The Right to Love - Part 14

[lenageek]

Title: The Right to Love

Spoilers: Takes place after ep 101 (8x09) after Pepa and Silvia have become engaged. This is a sequel to my previous PepSi fanfic, In Love's Defense. My fic follows LHDP up to ep 101 but departs from the show at that point - ep 104 never has and never will exist in this version of Pepa and Silvia’s world.

Rating: I dunno. How about an R for English/Spanish profanity. ;p

Pairing: Pepa/Silvia

Summary: As Pepa and Silvia deal with the aftermath of their encounter with El Gordo, a new case comes forward that challenges their rights as well as their lives.

A/N/Disclaimer: The characters of LHDP aren’t mine. Hm…I wasn’t too happy with how this part came out. Too much exposition to get myself out of the plot holes I created! ;p And I cut it off sooner than I originally intended, which occasionally happens when the story starts writing itself. But, no worries - more ass kicking Pepa and eventually a healthy Silvia to come!

[ Part 1] [ Part 2] [ Part 3] [ Part 4] [ Part 5] [ Part 6] [ Part 7] [ Part 8] [ Part 9] [ Part 10] [ Part 11] [ Part 12] [ Part 13]


Tires screeched and almost hydroplaned on the wet pavement, before the rubber managed to regain its grip, bringing the patrol car to a halt. Pepa kicked the door open and unbuckled her seatbelt before the vehicle even came to a complete stop. Leaving the driver’s side door wide open and the engine running, she sprinted through the storm towards a small cluster of apartments. Entering the building, she easily identified the correct residence, which had its entrance lit up by the portable lamps of the CSI team.

“Gonzalo! Have you found it?”

Inspector Montoya looked up at Pepa’s desperate entreaty, his eyebrows rising at the sight of his colleague filling the doorway. She was drenched from head to foot, her normally impeccable raven hair and neat appearance a tousled mess. Goosebumps pimpled her exposed forearms and neck, but the agent seemed immune to the cold. But it was the story told in the depths of her eyes that made him feel a physically sharp pang of sympathy in his stomach - an intense, burning determination mixed with equal parts worry, fear and heartache.

“We think we found the safe.” He took her arm, leading her around various CSI techs into the bedroom where Rita waited. The room, like the rest of the apartment, was in a state of disarray from the search. Montoya pointed out an area in the hardwood floor which had been located under a bureau that had been moved.

“There.” He indicated a spot on the floor where a faint outline in the shape of a square was visible. Various scuff and tool marks marred the otherwise flawless wood. “Trujillo must have some kind of reinforcement around that safe. We can’t get through the floorboards with pry bars.”

“Son of a bitch!” Pepa spat. “I’m going to go back there and break his other arm, until he tells me where the release switch for that door is!”

Rita and Montoya exchanged astonished glances at the comment, but kept quiet.

“Don’t worry.” The inspector held up his hands to calm Pepa down. “Cavazos from CSI has a circular saw in his van and he’s coming up with it right now. He says he can cut through wood, metal, almost anything.”

“Gracias a dios!” Pepa blew out an exhausted breath as she restlessly ran a hand through her dripping bangs.

“Pepa, cariño…” Rita worriedly clicked her tongue. She went over to the cases of equipment the CSI had brought and rummaged around until she found a towel. She draped it over the taller woman’s shoulders, briskly rubbing the soaked uniform.

“You’re going to catch your death of cold. Silvia would want us to take care of you, no?”

Pepa glanced at her fellow agent, the sincere gesture eliciting a weary smile. Here she was, half beaten to a pulp, dealing with a deadly cyanide compound and going beyond all extremes to save Silvia’s life - and Rita was clucking over her like a mother hen, concerned about a mere cold. The sentiment made tears come to her eyes, as she remembered how grateful she was for her friends.

“How is Silvia doing?” Montoya’s quiet inquiry made Pepa’s smile waver. He winced internally as he saw the effect it had on her, as he put a hand on her shoulder for support.

“She’s stable for the moment.” The agent wiped her eyes, struggling to reign in her emotions. “Hanging in there, like the stubborn pelirroja she is.”

The subdued atmosphere was broken by the rapid clomping of boots down the hallway and into the apartment. A rotund man in a dark blue windbreaker appeared in the doorway, out of breath and lugging a heavy cart of equipment.

“Inspector Montoya, I got back here as fast as I could!” The man paused, bending over as he placed his hands on his knees, wheezing. “Give me a second…”

“It’s all right, Cavazos.” Montoya assured the CSI agent. “Let’s help you set up.”

Pepa was the first to step forward, unloading Cavazos’ tools and making sure the circular saw had power. She was forced to wait as the CSI agent slipped on a pair of safety glasses and kneeled down to begin cutting. The sound of the saw droned loudly in a mechanical scream as it slowly inched along the floor, grating on her eardrums. The brunette swore she could feel her heart beating in time with the machine as she furiously willed it to go faster.

“Vale, I’ve got it!” Cavazos proclaimed as he wiped the sweat mixed with sawdust off his brow. He accepted a crowbar that Montoya handed over, wedging the metal to pry open the square section he had cut away.

Unwilling to wait any longer on the sidelines, Pepa joined the CSI agent with a second pry bar. Struggling, they wrenched the reluctant wood slats open, to reveal a small safe that had been hidden under the floorboards, half a meter down. Pepa kneeled down and reached into the hole, quickly punching in the code that Trujillo had given her. She released a breath she didn’t even realize she’d been holding as the indicator light turned green, granting her access.

“Here, Pepa. You’ll need these.” Montoya handed her a pair of latex gloves, which she hastily snapped on.

Grasping the handle, she opened the small door as the group collectively let out a subdued gasp.

“Dios mío! There must be at least €100,000 in here!” Pepa pulled out tightly bound stacks of currency, handing them off to Cavazos to bag for evidence. She bit her lip as she tried to keep from crying out in anger. “Blood money for what he did to Silvia!”

“It’s not just that, Pepa.” Montoya gently interjected, causing her head to jerk up as she stared at him furiously. “Trujillo’s lifestyle suggests that someone’s been funding him for a long time, way beyond his means.”

“It’s true.” Rita piped in “His suits cost over €1,500 each - even his cufflinks are platinum quality. And his car costs triple what we all make in a year.”

“Joder!” Pepa growled as she finished retrieving the money. “Prison is too good for him! Wait - I’ve got something else. His laptop.”

Montoya handed it off to Cavazos. “Pack up and get this to tech services right away! We need to know what’s on there - break every single encryption and access every file!”

“Sí, Inspector!” Cavazos stood and scurried off into the next room as quickly as his large bulk would allow him.

Pepa’s breath caught as her gloved fingers finally touched a small case, reinforced with a plastic molded cover. Lifting it out, she saw the name Kaliba engraved in the center. That company again. The one I keep seeing all over the Duarte file.

“Por favor, let this be it.” Pepa implored in a pleading whisper, as she slowly undid the latch and lifted the lid on the case, careful not to damage its precious contents.

The interior of the case revealed two rows of items neatly nestled in grey packing foam - five tiny plastic patches that held the lethal cyanide and five small vials of a greenish liquid. Pepa shuddered as she observed that the first two spaces that held the cyanide patches were empty, knowing full well the suffering the small objects had caused.

“Gonzalo, keep going and let me know what you find!” The agent ordered as she snapped the case shut, tucking it safely under her left arm. “And keep digging into that Kaliba company. If they’re the ones that manufactured this crap, I’ll take them down brick by brick if I have to!”

“No problem.” The inspector promised her. “We’re almost done here. We’ll make Kaliba and Trujillo’s laptop a priority.”

“Vale.” Pepa was already starting towards the door. “I’ll update you from the hospital.”

A flash of lighting lit up the room, casting distorted, unnatural shadows that jumped and stuttered against the wall. The light receded as quickly as it came. But the outlines on the wall had noticeably changed, as one of them moved swiftly to block Pepa’s way.

“Not yet, Agent Miranda!” Blackman held up a gloved hand to halt her. “I told you I’d contact you again when I had proof.”

“You!” Pepa had already loosened her gun from its holster, pointing it at the enigmatic figure, who was shrouded in his usual dark garb from head to toe. “How the hell do I know you’re not involved in this!”

The vigilante smiled charmingly, unfazed by the pistol a mere yard from his face. “Trust me, if I’d wanted to harm you or Inspectora Castro, I wouldn’t have resorted to the means that these people have. But I have no reason to want anyone from the San Antonio precinct to suffer.”

“I’m a little short on trust.” The agent said curtly. “Now, my wife is dying and I am going to save her. Move -” She lifted the barrel, centering it on Blackman’s forehead. “…or I will make you!”

“But what’s the one thing you want more than that?” Blackman ignored Rita and Montoya’s guns that were also trained on him, his eyes challengingly meeting at Pepa’s suspicious look. “You want to know who did this sí? And you want to make sure that they don’t get away with it.”

The tall man’s smiled lifted slightly as he saw Pepa’s conflicting emotions cross her face as she hesitated for a second. A gloved hand reached towards the inner pocket of his trench coat.

“Hey!” Montoya barked, stepping in line with Pepa. “Keep your fucking hands where I can see them!”

Blackman moved his hands away, assuming a submissive posture as he raised them up in full view. “Be my guest, Inspector Montoya.”

Stepping forward, Montoya reached into Blackman’s coat and retrieved a manila file folder. Still holding his gun at the ready, he flipped it open one-handed, scanning the contents. His thick brows contracted in shock as he read a list of names.

“What is this?” He saw Senator Lozano’s name prominently displayed at the top of the list. “A list of donors for Lozano’s campaign?”

“Much, much more than that.” Blackman’s ringed eyes focused on Pepa, directing his words towards her. “In that file, you’ll find data on a very dangerous organization, a white supremacist group called ‘Soldados de la Fortuna’.”

“Soldiers of Fortune.” Pepa muttered.

“This group has ties in Europe and throughout the world. Their ultimate goal is to ‘purify’ the Anglo-race by eradicating all that oppose them.”

Pepa felt a sick feeling building in her gut at the words. “And they saw Duarte’s rise to prominence and campaign against Lozano’s bill as a particular threat.”

“Exactly.” Blackman’s expression grew somber as he confirmed Pepa’s words. “But this group’s specific goal has always been to concentrate on eradicating homosexuals, whom they deem an unnatural affront to God.”

The agent felt a cold sweat break out, the queasy feeling in her stomach rising as she fought the urge to throw up. “They would have killed Silvia, regardless of where she was on the case.”

“Sí.” The vigilante said quietly. “It was only a matter of time before they killed you too, Agent Miranda. And I enjoy having you and Inspectora Castro around too much to let that happen.”

“Jesus.” Montoya holstered his gun, motioning for Rita to do the same as he continued to peruse the file. “There’s over thirty names on this list. Memos to members on the need to ‘eliminate the cancer of modern society - the homosexual filth that seeks to pollute and deprave our eternal souls’.” The handsome agent was pale as he took in the hateful tirade. “I can’t keep reading this. I’ll be sick.”

You’re not the only one. Pepa sympathized. “So this…organization. They have people in them that act like normal, everyday citizens. But when someone like Duarte comes along, they suddenly take action? Commit murder?”

“Mm.” Blackman nodded. “Like sleeper cells. In all walks of life - politics, government, police and civil servants, law, medicine, you name it.”

“It was only tonight that I could finally break through the encryption and put together that list. And trace those IP addresses of those memos to Lozano’s personal computer. He’s the head of the Madrid cell for Soldiers of Fortune. And as you can see, he funds himself and his constituents very well.”

“Lo siento, Agent Miranda.” The mysterious figured seemed genuinely apologetic as he met Pepa’s eyes, his voice tinged with regret. “I’ve been working on this nonstop for almost four days since I last saw you. By the time I had the intel, and went to the precinct, it was too late. Inspectora Castro was already in route to the hospital. So I tracked you down here.”

Pepa eventually lowered her weapon, before putting it away. “I believe that you said if you wanted to hurt us, you already would have. And I believe that you’re trying to help Silvia.” Her voice was soft with assurance.

The brunette slowly extended her hand, which she felt Blackman take in a firm grasp. An initiation of trust.

“Por qué?” Blackman inquisitively raised a brow. “A minute ago, you were ready to blow my head off.”

“Because I see it in your eyes. Silvia means a lot to you, doesn’t she?”

For once, Blackman looked stunned as he gauged the wide, knowing grin that slowly spread across Pepa’s features. “Sí. How did -”

“I’d recognize that look anywhere.” Pepa answered. “I see it in the mirror every day. Silvia makes it easy to fall in love with her.” Her grin turned voracious as she tightened her grip, pulling Blackman to her.

“You do realize that Silvia and I are now married, don’t you? And if you even think about making any kind of advances -”

“I know, I know.” Blackman quickly sputtered, casting his eyes downward in surrender. He let out an ironic laugh. “Trust me, Agent Miranda, I have no wish to be castrated or worse!”

“That’s a good man.” Releasing him, Pepa’s grip tightened on the precious case she held. “I have to go. Montoya, keep me posted. And you -” She pointed to Blackman. “Don’t keep disappearing on us. The precinct still has a lot of questions for you.”

The vigilante smiled, the gesture almost friendly towards the agent. “I can’t make any promises, Agent.” He paused and gestured at the case. “But have faith. A body does not willingly separate from its shadow.”

Pepa nodded in acknowledgement, her throat tightening, recalling the story Blackman had told her about a pair of lovers who were actually two halves of the same whole. She quickly stepped around him and ran out of the apartment, her boots squeaking on the polished hardwood floor.

Montoya looked up from the file, his eyes alight with excitement. “This evidence is what we need! We could get a warrant for Lozano based on this!”

Blackman nodded again. “Sí, Inspector. It will hold up in court, don’t worry. Doubtless, you will find more in Agent Trujillo’s personal files.”

“Once we get past what’s certain to be a lot of encryption.” Montoya frowned. “Which will only take more time. Time we don’t have.”

Blackman turned and walked into the living room, startling the CSI agents, a few of whom reached for their guns at the sight of the notorious intruder.

“Weapons down, men!” Montoya ordered. “Just give him a second.”

The vigilante gestured towards Trujillo’s laptop. “May I?”

In spite of himself, Montoya approved. “Go ahead.”

The inspector, Rita and the rest of the agents watched, intrigued as Blackman flexed his fingers, cracking his knuckles before opening the laptop and entering a series of rapid-fire keystrokes. Even with gloves on, his fingers flew dexterously across the keyboard, almost too quickly to see with the naked eye. Within 30 seconds, a series of screens and programs ran across the small screen, lighting up the pale face, as Blackman smiled, satisfied with his work.

“There you are, Inspector.” Blackman turned the laptop towards Montoya, showing him the screen. “Trujillo didn’t have much in the way of protection - merely a few firewalls. He made the mistake of depending on that safe for security. But I believe these files will help you get all the warrants you need.”

“Mierda!” Montoya swore as his eyes quickly scanned the screen. “Trujillo’s got lists of multiple payoffs to bank accounts in his name, other names on that list -”

“All linked to Swiss bank accounts, backtracked to known online aliases and shell corporations, all owned by Senator Vicente Lozano.” Blackman finished.

“Dios mío.” Montoya felt dizzy when he tried to mentally unravel all with the absurd twists this case had taken. Mostly, he felt like he needed a stiff drink. “So it was Lozano behind everything.”

“It appears that way.” Blackman turned towards the window.

“Hey!” Montoya put his hand on his holstered weapon, ready to pull it again. “Where do you think you’re going? We still have questions for you! Do you really think Central’s going to believe where we got all this intel?”

“Just tell them what they always say in the movies, Inspector.” Blackman smiled mysteriously. “That you got the tip from a friend. An anonymous source. It seems to work all the time.”

The storm lit up the room for a second time as the lighting made everyone blink in reflex. When the light died down, Blackman had disappeared, the rain drops pelting a wooden table through the now open window.

“Humph!” Rita snorted, both amused and impressed. “He’s a tricky one, that Blackman!”

Montoya groaned in frustration as he massaged his aching temples with both hands. He made his way towards a chair and sat down while retrieving his cell phone.

“Commander! We need you to talk to that judge again! We’ve got evidence for a lot of warrants, including Senator Lozano.”

He listened quickly to Salgado’s commands before making a few terse replies.

“Vale.” The inspector stood, gathering the laptop and Blackman’s file folder. “Let’s move, everyone! By the time we finish tonight, I want to have filled all the holding cells in the city!”

___

Pepa shouldered her way through the automatic doors of the emergency room, in too much of a hurry to wait for the glass panels to open automatically. Her boots skidded but retained their grip on the polished floor as she sprinted down the hallway. She was immensely relieved to find Dr. Gonzalez and Don Lorenzo running at her from the other direction as they met in mid-stride.

“I think I got it!” The brunette panted as she handed the case over to the physician. “How is she?”

“Silvia’s still stable for the moment.” Dr. Gonzalez informed her as he moved swiftly down a connecting hallway.

“Hey!” Pepa had to resist the urge to grab the doctor’s arm by reflex. “Where the hell are you going? UCI’s the other way!”

“Pepa, we have to analyze this antidote the lab before we even think about giving it to her.” Dr. Gonzalez explained. “This could be water and food coloring for all we know. It’s standard procedure. I’ll make sure this is top priority.”

“How long?” Pepa asked, her shoulders slumping in fatigue with the constant, volatile shifting of her emotions.

“A half an hour, tops.” The trio reached the entrance to the lab as the ER physician put a comforting hand on Pepa’s shoulder. “Go and be with her.”

“Vamos, hija.” Don Lorenzo steered Pepa towards the UCI hallway. “Silvia will want to see you.”

Slowly, the pair walked down to Silvia’s room. Don Lorenzo went in, nodding cordially to Eva, the nurse who was checking the redhead’s vitals. Pepa hesitated in the doorway, feeling uncharacteristically unsure and fearful.

“Hola Don Lorenzo. Pepa.” Eva greeted warmly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She reached into a cart full of supplies, carefully checking a laptop for an accurate dosage before retrieving an IV bag.

“I’m just changing her IV.” She informed Pepa as she reached for the IV pole to replace the almost empty bag. “Your wife’s sucking down fluids at a good rate. I think that’s encouraging.”

Ignoring the aching in her ribs, Pepa inhaled deeply as she stepped to Silvia’s side. Her trembling fingers stretched forward, coming millimeters from touching her wife’s pale hand. Sucking in another breath, Pepa clenched her fist painfully as she squeezed her eyes shut, feeling a single tear roll down her cheek.

“Dios!” Pepa exhaled explosively, loathing herself and her perceived weakness. “I keep thinking about what I could have done to avoid this! Been more observant, put all the pieces together faster…”

“Pepa…” Don Lorenzo’s voice trailed off sadly. Watching his adopted daughter suffer like this was as bad as seeing Silvia in that damn bed.

“And now my wife’s lying here and I don’t know what to do!” The agent sniffed, running a weary hand across her face. “I don’t know what to say or if I can touch her without making things worse.”

“Of course you can, cariño.” Eva kindly assured Pepa. “All of this -” She gestured to the machinery. “Is just to keep her safe. It’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“Just talk to her, hija. Like you always do.” Don Lorenzo motioned to Eva, who took his cue as they left the couple alone.

Pepa found a chair and sat down, her fingers slowly grazing and taking Silvia’s right hand. She gradually laid her head down on the mattress next to her wife’s motionless form, her breath warming their entwined fingers.

“Hola, princesa. I’m sorry that I haven’t been here.” Her lips pursed in a semblance of a smile. “I’ve been out being a bad ass. I know you like that side of me. You always say it’s sexy.”

She squeezed the pale fingers gently, making sure Silvia could feel the cool metal engagement ring around her finger. “You remember giving me this? Everyone says I’m the brave one that rushes into a crossfire. You have so much more courage than I ever will. I don’t think I could have found the guts to propose in a million years!”

Pepa’s smile turned bittersweet as tears continued to streak dirty paths down her cheeks. “And now it’s real. We’re finally married. So you think about what you’d like to do during our ceremony, vale? We’re still going to do the whole thing, the dresses and everything!”

A shaky laugh. “I just hope I don’t faint when I see you walking down the aisle. You’re going to be so beautiful…I don’t know if I’ll be able to take it!”

There was no reply as the machines and ventilator continued to beep and whoosh monotonously in response. Pepa tightened her grip on Silvia’s hand, willing the life that coursed through her wife’s veins to keep going.