Safehouse
Upon return to their current upmarket residence in Huntington the men had consumed a Chinese takeout picked up on the way. Once empy cartons had been put in recycling and the small amount of cutlery deposited in the dishwasher the men, sans Jay, had retired to the spacious, high ceilinged front room. With light peach walls complimenting the thick floor to ceiling golden velvet curtains and plush golden sofas accompanied by a roaring log fire blazing brightly in the large white marble fireplace the room practically screamed class, the tall cream coloured lamps with golden pedestals aiding the opulent surroundings. Their fancy residence however was of little concern. Conversation had lulled after a brief discussion on the previous nights' Seahawks' game. Everyone had the same subject on their mind, Jay.
In his bedroom, with dark green carpet and matching curtains, the cause of everyones' concern had left the main lights off when he had retreated for some much needed solitude. With only one brass lamp with green shade casting a dim light around the large cream painted room he stood looking out through the net curtains. The house was well hidden from the roadway so he was reasonably certain his presence at the window would go unchecked. 'Reasonably certain' because with their quarry they had learnt the hard way nothing was ever 100% certain. As the investigation had worn on Jay felt that Wells, or King as they had identified him, had proved he was quite adept at gaining access to places and information and said abilities still had the Detective stumped. From the information they had gathered the twins did not have access to substantial financial resources yet the man was easily staying out of reach while continuing his agenda. A thought struck him as a knock on the door had him turning to see Voight enter.
"You okay Kid?" the Sergeant had held his silence earlier when the younger man had declined to eat in favour of getting some rest but the light under the doorway had confirmed his suspicion that sleep was proving elusive.
"Yeah Sarge," Jay turned away from the window fully and gave the newcomer his full attention, "just thinking."
"So share," Voight suggested as he walked over and sat down on the end of the queen bed folding his arms.
"Money."
"Money?"
"King has to have access to money ...,"
"Because he's evaded us and continued his attacks."
"Right but ....,"
"What is it?"
"We haven't found any source of financial funds."
"We will," the Sergeant assured.
"There is one place he could have made money," Jay leant back against the wall tiredly, "his job as a Hitman."
"We knew it was more than likely he really was Wells the Assassin," Voight concurred, "as we discussed if he was an Imposter the real one would have dealt with him."
"Exactly."
"So you reckon he's been active a long time as Wells?"
"To make good money? Yeah," Jay stated with a shrug, "given what we know of his childhood he probably became more emboldened as time went on. Being paid to kill people probably amused him."
"He's a piece of work alright," Voight sighed, as ever he was impressed with his Subordinates' insightful reasoning
"but for now why don't you take some painkillers and get some proper sleep."
"Sarge?"
"I know you hate taking the strong meds Kid," it was Voights' turn to be insightful as he eyed the full pill bottle on the bedside table, "but you need to give your body a break and they'll help do that. You need to be able to function if you want to see this to the end."
"Sarge you can't ....,"
"Hey! I'm not sidelining you Kid. I just want you to be able to do your job without collapsing."
The older man knew his companion was running on empty which was a recipe for disaster. He was determined to ensure he got some respite this night.
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Homeland Security Headquarters
As the Sergeant was endeavouring to persuade his Detective to get some proper rest at HS Headquarters Parker had called into Murphys' office before he headed home for the night.
"I've been thinking about Jay," the Psychologist decided to get right down to the reason for his presence.
"Think we all have," Murphy pointed out, hell he had a pain in his gut over the younger man being targeted so maliciously but he couldn't imagine how hard it was for the Sergeant from Chicago and his Unit.
"I meant after this investigation is over," Parker elaborated as he sat down in front of the cluttered desk.
"Oh?"
"You've been saying you need a full-time Profiler and ....,"
"You've changed your mind?"
"No, no. My hospital work wouldn't allow me to do be full-time. You know that," Parker reminded of their many previous discussions on the matter.
"So what are you suggesting?" the Assistant Director checked, although he had an inkling.
"Jay would make a great Profiler."
"I'll admit he has good instincts but he's a Detective."
"So? There's no law stopping him becoming a Profiler."
"But he doesn't have the requirements needed, such as a Bachelors' Degree in Psychology, Criminology, Forensics and Behavioral Science."
"True but he has an impressive military background and ....,"
"How do you know that?"
"I've spoken to Voight and Al. They couldn't disclose much but he left with an exemplary record."
"What else?" Murphy eyed his friend across the desk, it was obvious he had put some tbought into this.
"He's record as an LEO is impressive."
"Voight and Al told you this?"
"Nope," Parker grinned sheepishly, "Ruzek likes to talk."
"Even if I could cut through the red tape with his experience it still wouldn't work."
"Why not?"
"You've seen how close those men are. He isn't going to walk away from them."
"I agree."
"So why bring it up at all?"
"Because Jay has an inate ability to understand his targets. It can't be taught. It's a natural gift .....," the Psychologist paused before admitting in self deprecation, "I've been doing this over ten years and I've never met anyone with his instincts. I wish I was as good as he is."
"That still doesn't solve the main problem."
"I know," Parker conceded, "he's clearly at home with the Unit ...,"
"So why mention it?" Murphy repeated with a raised brow, Voight wouldn't give up the young man easily.
"Because our ultimate goal is to save lives," the Psychologist explained, "I think he could make a huge difference."
"But you're not fully on board with the idea," Murphy knew his old friend well.
"No I'm not," Parker wasn't surprised the older man had picked up on his reticence despite airing the suggestion.
"For now let's concentrate on the Kings. If you still think it's worthwhile after we close this case we can consider it again. You should know one thing though?"
"What?" Parker rose as his companion stood and retrieved his jacket.
"Voight and his men aren't going to give Halstead up without a fight."
"Never thought they would."
As the pair headed out of the office the Psychologist hoped he had made the right decision in mentioning it. He genuinely cared for the young man in question but his natural talent should supercede the concern he had for him as countless lives might be saved with Jay on the case. For now he'd put the idea on the back burner.
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Safehouse
Jay had eventually decided to take a couple of the heavy painkillers he had been avoiding and after consuming a Mars bar and a can of Fanta Orange he had welcomed the beckoning darkness within half an hour. He awoke in the darkened room as rain pelted the curtained windows. A glance at the glowing orange digital clock beside his bed informed him it was twenty after four. He had actually slept for six hours straight, a miracle. He took a moment to do an inventory of his various complaints and was relieved to note the pain from the broken ribs had eased and the headache he had fallen asleep with had receded to a minor discomfort. He was debating getting up in search of a drink or trying to get some more sleep when a shadow moved in the corner. He was about to move when a familiar voice spoke calmly.
"Only me Kid," Al rose from the armchair he had been occupying for the past couple of hours and approached the side of the bed, "how are you doing?"
"What are you doing here?" Jay demanded as he carefully sat up and swung his legs off the bed.
"Just wanted to make sure you didn't have any nightmares," Al replied honestly, he hadn't forgotten the younger man had other issues besides King to deal with and he took his self appointed role of Caretaker seriously.
"Al I appreciate the concern," Jay admitted around a yawn as he got to his feet and retrieved his jeans from the bedside chair and tried to curb his irritation, "but you don't need to ...,"
"I agreed to keep your nightmares and flashback between us," the older man cut in with a reminder, "but I'm going to do what I gotta do to make sure you're okay."
"Hell Al I'm a grown man," Jay argued as he zipped up the jeans before walking over to the wardrobe to get a jumper, "I know ye seem to think I need a Babysitter but I genuinely don't."
"Just as well because I don't do babysitting."
"What would you call what you were doing?" Jay selected a chunky dark green jumper and pulled it on, relishing the warmth as it embraced his lean frame.
"Being a friend," Al answered unrepentantly.
"You should get some rest," Jay abandoned his protests, knowing from past experience that once his older friend decided on a course of action he was impossible to dissuade, "I'm going to make something to eat."
"Well since you ask I am feeling hungry," Al decided with a smirk as he opened the door and ushered the other man out onto the wide landing.
"Grant me patience!"
To the mens' surprise the lights were already on in the kitchen and as he pushed the door open Jay shook his head at the mess. Adam looked up sheepishly as he attempted to wipe some flour from his hands but only succeeded in transferring some of the powdery substance onto his shirt.
"What are ye doing up?"
"Wanted something to eat," Al muttered as he eyed the cluttered counter tops, "was there an explosion I didn't hear about?"
"Funny guy," Adam rolled his eyes as he finally opted for rinsing his hands under the tap, "wanted some pancakes."
"Didn't ye buy some the other day?" Jay asked distractedly as he glanced at the empty frying pan.
"Yeah but they're gone already."
"Al looks like your luck is in," Jay commented as he retrieved a small bowl from an overhead cupboard while endeavouring not to dislodge any of the dirty utensils on the counter, "Adam can make you something. I'm having cereal."
"Think I'll skip the pancakes," Al grimaced as he saw half beaten eggs in a jug, "might just do with a coffee."
"Coward," Jay smirked before Adam handed him a box of Corn Flakes.
"Nothing wrong with self preservation," Al mused out loud, ignoring the glare sent his way from the would be Cook.
"So what's going on?" Adam finally dropped the mirth.
"Nothing. Slept enough," Jay explained as he retrieved some milk from the fridge.
"What's your excuse," Adam looked at his old partner.
"Same."
"Yeah me too. Thought cooking would take my mind off King."
"That's not cooking," Al argued gesturing to the chaos before him, "that's just a mess."
"Everyone's a critic," Adam noted in exasperation before continuing darkly, "I've been thinking about the Kings."
"And?" Jay paused in sprinkling sugar over the golden flakes, that wasn't exactly surprising.
"And if we're going to antagonise him into going after you we need it to be foolproof."
"Hell we know that," Al observed as he readied two mugs of coffee, "Voight wouldn't have suggested it without knowing the danger."
"Yeah but has anyone thought of how to actually go about it?" Adam looked at the newcomers speculatively.
"I had an idea," Jay eventually mumbled as he put away the sugar and poured milk into his bowl, keeping his gaze downwards.
"I'm afraid to ask," Al deadpanned when nothing else was forthcoming .....
tbc
LEO - Law Enforcement Officer