Chapter 21:

On Monday evening, the squad members were all in the murder room with Fritz. The FBI confirmed that the division stepped upon an ongoing investigation. Taylor was standing on the side, watching in silence.

"We're talking about a big human trafficking cartel from Mexico, which started operating in the USA about five years ago. From what we know so far, they deal not only with women, but also with kids. Apparently, your first victim was low on the cartel's chain. We think this cartel uses gang members to kidnap kids and bring them to a hiding place. Right now, the most logical explanation for the murder is a power struggle between two low level gang members working for the cartel. As for your second victim, Adama… I'm afraid his only crime was being a witness," Fritz finished.

"So, this investigation goes to the FBI now?" Flynn asked, annoyed.

"Yes," Fritz said in an apologizing tone.

"Oh, come on," Provenza said, looking at Sharon.

She kept quiet for a moment before talking. "There's nothing we can do about it," she said, looking around at her detectives. They didn't say a word to argue. "Thank you, agent Howard," she gave him a little nod.

"Goodnight," he said hesitantly and walked out of the murder room.

"This is ridiculous. We spent two weekends on this case," Provenza said in anger.

"Then it's a good thing the FBI took the case," Taylor said suddenly. "We can't afford many more weekends like that," he nodded at Sharon and left too.

"Well, see you tomorrow," Provenza said, still angry, as he got on his feet and grabbed his jacket. The rest of the squad followed him, except for Flynn, who agreed to write the final report for the case and remained seated at his desk.

Sharon turned to her office and walked slowly towards it as her detectives left the murder room, muttering words of goodbye. She set down on her chair as rain started falling outside, suiting her mood.

Buzz entered the office in a hurry, panting. "Captain, I forgot to give this to you," he handed her a brown, thick, envelope with her name written on it in black ink. "It's the thing Bill left for you. I didn't open it," he said, adding the last part quickly.

"It's okay, Buzz, thank you," Sharon said as she took the envelope from him.

"Goodnight," he said hesitantly, not sure if she was okay.

"Goodnight," she did her best to smile. Buzz nodded and left her office. Sharon put the envelope on her desk and stared at it. All of her moments with Adama raced through her mind like a fast-forwarding movie. He will always remain a mystery to her. Not just who he was and where he came from, but also the short time it took her to like him so much. It was so unusual to her, she could never explain it.

"Sharon?" she heard a voice and looked up. Flynn was standing at the door.

"Yes?" she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

He walked in and stood on the other side of the desk, looking at her. "Are you okay?"

Sharon shook her head. "I don't know," she said with sadness, "I can't help but feel responsible for his death."

"Are you kidding me? How is it your responsibility?" Flynn asked.

"Maybe we should have put him in protective custody. I don't know," she said and shook her head again.

"Oh, come on, Sharon… It's a cartel. We weren't expecting that. There was no obvious reason to put him in protective custody and you know it," he said and felt ridiculous for justifying her actions to her.

"Yes…" Sharon said absent-mindedly and her head was about to explode from over-thinking it.

"What's that?" Flynn said a few seconds later, pointing at the envelope.

"He left it for me. I didn't open it yet."

"What are you waiting for?"

"Courage," she said and chuckled bitterly.

Flynn walked around the desk and stopped next to her chair. "Come on," he said as he put his hand on her shoulder, hoping it will give her the courage she needed.

"Okay…" she muttered and took the envelope in her hands. Her eyes fell on her written name in Adama's handwriting. She opened it and groped inside with her hand, pulling something out. "A book…" she said and smiled, "of course."

"Searider Falcon," Flynn read the title aloud. "Never heard of it."

"Me neither," Sharon said as she looked at the worn back cover. A sticky note was attached to it. She tore it gently from the book and read.

"Sharon,

If you're reading this, I'm probably dead.

I wanted you to have this book that I always carry in my pocket.

I used to spend hours with Laura, reading it.

It felt good to have it on me, felt closer to her.

Now I don't need it anymore, for I'm surely with her.

I Hope you like it just like we did.

William Adama.

PS – It's not a loan. It's a gift."

Sharon finished reading and felt herself tearing up. She didn't want to cry in front of Flynn, or anyone, for that matter. She took a deep breath, trying to make the lump in her throat disappear. Her head was tilted down so Flynn couldn't see her face.

He gave her shoulder a little squeeze and walked to the door, seeing that she needed to be alone.

"Wait," she said unexpectedly in a quiet, shaky voice and he turned around, looking at her teary eyes. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and comfort her, but he wasn't sure of her reaction to such a thing at that moment. Instead, he sat down on a chair at the other side of the desk and reached out for the book. Sharon handed it to him and leaned back on her chair, watching him curiously.

Flynn opened the first page and looked at it for a moment in concentration, before he started reading aloud: "The raft was not as seaworthy as I'd hoped. The waves repeatedly threatened to swamp it. I wasn't afraid to die. I was afraid of the emptiness that I felt inside. I couldn't feel anything. And that's what scared me. You came into my thoughts. I felt them. It felt good."

-THE END-

(***)

(This story continues in a new fic - Out of Time.)