||fed up - no pun intended
Smecker sits in his hotel room, watching Dinotron eat the last of the small dog-food cans left mysteriously by his hotel room door, and looks over the planner on his laptop, trying to find a good time to meet with Clare in the park and talk mutts. As he waits for the planner to load, he checks his e-mail for any results on the cleaners from Shaw's apartment.
Apparently the background checks were elusive, sketchy at best. Krycek's covering his trail again. Smecker sets his jaw - he knows that they could have that bastard but good, if they could only find some REAL evidence, nothing as insubstantial as bloody bedsheets (something out of some sordid soap mystery) or drugs in coat pockets, both linked to a witness who will likely deny everything for the sake of saving his own ass.
In fact, he realizes, anything that they had ever thought could be hard evidence is shit.
And he has a sinking feeling that no matter what they'll find, Krycek or Shaw will find a way to make THAT insubstantial, as well.
The leads they had are fast growing cold, something Smecker never could deal with well, and he feels a temper tantrum rising up in his chest, burning and tight. He refrains from loosing it, however, since his temper usually ends with things being thrown and knocked about, and he doesn't want to hurt Dinotron.
Instead, he opens up a new email and fires off a message:
To: agentspooky, det_benson
Just dropping a note to tell you all that I'm going to put in to Damuro for a different assignment ... it's nothing personal, it's been a pleasure working with
both of you - and I do mean that. I hope we'll at least cross paths again in the future. However ... I can't work this assignment any longer. It's too cold for me, too stagnant. Bauer can have it if he wants it, and may he chase that recalcitrant little fuck for the rest of his days ... but I've had enough.
He surveys the email, then nods to himself and hits send. It's never an easy decision to drop a case, especially one he's put so much energy and effort into - but in the end, it's always a clear decision, too.
Grabbing his jacket, he puts down some newspaper in the bathtub for Dinotron, then decides to head out for a quick dinner, some time at the shooting range, and maybe afterwards, a bar.
Stress relief is a very involved business, after all.