Page 58 of So Smitten

Faith had a feeling that Garvey wasn’t being serious about the comparison, but Garvey didn’t challenge Michael. Faith looked at her partner and saw a very familiar anger in his face. She couldn’t imagine his experience would affect him as long as her suffering at Trammell’s and West’s hands would affect her, but she had a pretty good idea what he was feeling right now.

“So what’s next for you?” Michael asked Garvey after a moment of silence. “The city going to give you a medal for taking out the Syndicate?”

Garvey chuckled. “I wish. Not the medal part. They actually might give me a medal, the knuckleheads. They’ll almost certainly promote me to Detective Sergeant. Hell, they might even leapfrog me to lieutenant. But no, the Syndicate isn’t dead. This hurt them, but not badly enough to stop them. They’ll be back, and things will be worse when they return.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Faith said. “You’ve shown that the police department here won’t take their actions lightly. You’ll be able to argue for more of a budget so you can step up patrols in the worst neighborhoods. You can even make some traction on social programs that will help people in lower income situations find alternative ways to support themselves. You’ll make a difference.”

"Everything you've said is true," Garvey agreed, "but there will always be people who have less, and those people will always envy those who have more. There will always be those among the ones who have more who exploit those people to gain even more than they have, and there will be people all across the social strata who will be willing to do whatever it takes to get it. That's the human condition right there, and until and unless we evolve into something different, we'll always have groups like the Syndicate to fight.

“But there will always be people to fight them,” she added, “and as long as that’s the case, I’ll keep smiling.” She lifted her glass and said, “To our victory.”

“To victory,” Michael agreed.

“To victory,” Faith said softly.

***

Hello, you have reached—“Dr. David Friedman”—We’re sorry, but—“Dr. David Friedman”—is not available. At the tone, please record your message. When you have finished, press pound.

The tone beeped and Faith said, “Hey, David, it’s me. I just wanted to let you know that we’re on our way home. We should be there tonight. We’re landing at—” she checked her itinerary “—nine-thirty. You don’t have to meet me at the airport or anything. I’ll be too tired to do anything anyway. Not that I’m asking you to do anything.” She reddened slightly and said, “Anyway, I’m just calling to let you know. If you’re available tomorrow night, though, I’d love to grab dinner. I… um… I have a thought on the… situation.”

She reddened even further and wondered how she was going to broach the subject with David. She had given up on David leaving the state until things were settled with West. Considering how easily West managed to move around the country and track even Faith’s most obscure acquaintances, she thought David might be right after all, even if indirectly. It probably didn’t matter where he went. West could find him if he wanted to.

But she could still make things safer for him if she were with him as much as possible. She wasn’t planning to move in with him permanently. Not yet, anyway. Just until West was caught. True, she hadn’t really had the best showings against West in their fights, and neither had Turk, but David stood a much better chance with her and Turk there than not.

But it would probably come across as paranoia or clinginess when she brought the idea up to David. She wasn’t sure which was worse.

“Anyway,” she finished, “you’re probably busy at work, so I’ll let you go. I’ll see you soon.” She hesitated briefly, then said, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Michael said.

Faith turned around in surprise, then saw that Michael was also on the phone. “I’ll see you soon, beautiful,” he said. He paused, then blushed a little and said, “Well, that sounds just fantastic. I can’t wait to see you in it.”

Faith turned around so Michael wouldn’t see her smile. Unless Michael’s tastes had changed greatly over the past few years, she had a decent idea what Ellie was planning to wear for him.

She reddened and pushed that thought from her mind. She had no business going there and no real desire to go there anyway. They were partners and friends, and she was having enough trouble maintaining that relationship without allowing their past dalliance to complicate things.

Besides, she had another man to wear lingerie for. It occurred to her that she hadn’t done that for David yet. Maybe she would buy something lacy and red for him and ask him about staying together once he’d had a chance to enjoy that outfit.

Michael hung up and sat next to her with a groan. “I’m getting too old for this shit,” he said seriously. “I don’t know how many more of these I have left in me.”

“You’re thinking about moving up?” Faith asked.

He hesitated a split second before saying, “Yeah, maybe.”

Faith’s eyes widened. “You’re thinking about moving out?”

He shrugged. “Not soon. I don’t even get my pension for another five years. But… well, I can’t do this forever. It’s starting to get to me, and not just physically. That dog fighting ring… I don’t know, Faith. I’ve never felt so… helpless before. And what Garvey said about their always being people like the Syndicate… it makes me wonder if I’m just playing a fool’s game thinking I can make an actual difference in the world.”

“Everyone has to play this game, Michael,” Faith said. “The only thing you get to choose is what side you’re on.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” Michael said gently. “You can decide to be an NPC.”

“An NP-what?”

"NPC," he repeated. "It's a video game term. It means Non-Playable Character. You know in role-playing games how you have characters you interact with like teammates or shop owners or guides?"

Faith hadn’t played video games since Super Nintendo was the state of the art. “Not really,” she said, “but I think I get what you’re saying.”

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