Chapter Text
He’s making a lunch run when he hears it.
A strange scratching sound from the store front next to the restaurant.
The abandoned store front.
He shoots Hailey a text, creeping around to the rear of the building to see a door cracked open, the lock jimmied.
Draws his weapon and slowly moves into the building.
It’s probably a squatter, some homeless person taking advantage of the closure to find somewhere out of the elements to lay their head but that doesn’t mean it’s safe to let his guard down.
Doesn’t mean they won’t hurt him to avoid losing the shelter that they’ve found.
To avoid going to jail.
Or because some kind of mental health crises tells them that he’s a threat to them.
Hell, there’s a bank down the block and it’s not impossible that some two-bit criminals are using this building to plan a robbery.
He peers around a corner, letting out a breath when he sees a worn Army backpack sitting against the wall.
Likely a homeless vet then.
Unfortunately, he knows as well as anyone what kind of mental health issues that could mean.
Nearly two-thirds of homeless veterans from the recent conflicts in the Middle East are suffering from under-treated PTSD.
He scans the room, looking for the owner of the backpack.
He moves nearly silently but homeless people are often more alert, more in tune with their surroundings than your average person so - especially if this one is military – they may still have heard him coming.
A man steps around the corner with a weapon in hand, pointed directly at him.
Normally, Jay would be pretty fixated on that weapon.
He’s not unaware of it but he’s also a little distracted.
“Red?”
Vincent Redding had been in Afghanistan with him for his first tour.
He’d transferred to another unit shortly after they’d returned home, selected to fill a vacant EOD position.
Last Jay had heard of him, he’d gotten out after his third tour.
Apparently, he should have kept better tabs on him.
“Red, man.” He says carefully, “It’s Jay Halstead.”
He takes a breath, swallows hard and adds.
“It’s Ricky.”
Red tips his head, an all too familiar look in his eyes.
“Ricky?” He asks.
“Yeah man.” Jay says, lowering his gun slightly. “You’re in Chicago right now. You’re safe. You can put the gun down.”
Red’s eyes narrow and Jay finds himself tightening his grip on his weapon.
“Buddy I promise you, we’re safe here.” He says carefully.
Red shakes his head.
“I know we’re in Chicago, Ricky.” He says. “But we’re not safe here. They’re here. They’re looking for me. Because of what I did.”
Jay frowns.
“Who’s looking for you, Red?” He asks.
“I can’t tell you that.” Red says. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I’m with the police now.” Jay says, lifting his shirt slightly with his left hand to show his badge. “We can help you. Get you somewhere safe.”
“Nowhere is safe.” Red growls. “I just have to stay moving, stay alert.”
Jay’s phone goes off.
“That’s my partner.” He says slowly. “I need to answer that. Need to get us some help. We can help you figure this out.”
Red’s eyes are locked on his pocket.
“They know you’re with me.” He says. “Know you found me.”
“Red.” Jay cautions.
“If they can’t find me, they’ll torture you to find out how you tracked me down.” Red says, taking a step forward. “We have to go.”
“Go where?” Jay asks, stepping back and forgetting about his phone. “Dude, let me take you down to the station.”
“Full of criminals and corrupt cops who would happily hand us over to them.” Red scoffs. “That’s not gonna happen, Ricky.”
“Dude, I -” He takes another step back and hears something click.
Shit.
The thought isn’t even fully formed before his feet are being ripped out from under him, a snare biting into his left ankle.
With little to no space between him and the wall, it’s no surprise that his head crashes forcefully against it as he’s pulled up.
Lights out.
He comes to in a car, the world speeding past him outside the window.
His hands have been lashed tightly together, the rope looped around the grab handle and then knotted again.
It doesn’t take long to determine that the knots have been placed where he can’t quite reach them, no matter how he twists his hands.
“You’re not getting those off.” Red says lightly and he twists his head, turning to look at him.
There’s blood running down into his left eye, the skin tight and sticky.
It clouds his vision but he still sizes up his old friend the best that he can.
He’d wondered how a homeless man squatting in an abandoned store front and hiding from… someone.. had a car but from this angle he can clearly see the loose wires poking out from under the steering wheel.
The car is stolen.
He guesses he should just be glad that he hadn’t carjacked someone at gunpoint.
Though that’s probably a little hard to do while dragging the dead weight of an unconscious person around.
“What the hell are you doing?” He growls.
“I’m trying to keep you safe, you moron.” Red scoffs. “And you’re making it damn hard.”
“Giving me a concussion is keeping me safe now?” He snaps.
“Pupil response is good.” Red shrugs. “I checked before I put you in the car.”
“That you stole.”
“This idiot leaves it on the side of the road there all the time.” Red says. “He’s been ticketed like a dozen times but apparently he’s rich enough – or dumb enough – not to care.”
“That doesn’t mean you should steal it.” Jay accuses.
“Desperate times call for desperate measures.” Red dismisses. “You’re out there walking on the street in broad daylight, trusting anyone and everyone and taking zero precautions. They were probably right behind you. We needed to put some distance and fast.”
“Just let me call my team.” Jay demands. “They can help you.”
“If someone on your team didn’t sell me out in a heartbeat then they’ll be too careless and someone at the district will.” Red scoffs. “Besides, I smashed your phone. The last thing we needed is a gps chip for them to track.”
Jay grits his teeth.
Hailey had been trying to reach him when he’d tripped the snare, had theoretically headed his way the moment he texted that he was checking something out.
They´ll find his destroyed phone, probably some blood if how much is dried on the side of his face is any indication and, most importantly, no other sign of him and that will be enough to start the search off quickly.
It would have been nice if Red had brought his phone with them.
If the team had something to track and if Jay had the means to get ahold of them if he can talk Red down or get out of the ropes binding his wrists.
But hopefully the owner of the car will report it stolen and they´ll make the connection.
Hopefully that lead is enough for them to follow.
“Where are we going then?” he asks, deciding to just go along with this for a minute.
Maybe he can convince Red to untie him and escape.
“Getting out of the city.” Red mutters. “A friend of mine owns a cabin we can lay low for a bit.”
“What’s the plan?” Jay presses. “Just… stay on the run forever?”
“Counterintelligence has to find them at some point.” Red says. “Then I can go home. Until then, I’ve got to stay one step ahead.”
“And me?” Jay asks. “Just gonna drag me along with you?”
“If I have to.” Red says, rolling his eyes. “Kind of hoping at some point you’ll get with the program and start being a little less dead weight and a little more elite Army Ranger.”
Jay turns away, looking out the window.
They’ve left Chicago behind, moving into an open area without a lot of landmarks for him to use to get his bearings.
But Jay’s always been good at navigation, honed even more so by his time in the Army, and he thinks he has some idea where they are.
Enough to be pretty sure that they’re north of the city right now.
For all the good that does him right now.
In the middle of nowhere.
On the open road without another car in sight.
“Shit.” Red mutters, grip tightening on the steering wheel.
Jay sits up straight, scanning their surroundings and coming up empty.
“What?” He asks.
‘You can’t see them following us?” Red snaps. “Damn. You’ve gone soft as a civilian.”
Jay hasn’t gone soft.
And there’s nobody behind them.
Red swerves and Jay twists his hands, trying to get a decent grip on the grab bar.
“What the hell are you doing?” He shouts.
“You keep asking that like the answer is going to change.” Red snarls. “Hold on.”
In the man’s defense, it’s a perfectly executed maneuver.
If there was a car where he apparently sees one, it would have been the perfect choice.
But there isn’t a car so instead he loses control, their stolen ride careening off the road and tipping up onto the passenger side tires.
And then they hit a rock.
Nothing too big but enough to put an end to any chance Red has of regaining control of the vehicle.
They flip, rolling down the embankment.
Red is wearing a seat belt but he hadn’t bothered to do the same for Jay.
The ropes on his wrists help some – enough to keep him from being ejected from the vehicle – but he’s jostled around, thrown erratically from side to side.
Then his head is crashing against the window and he’s tumbling back into unconsciousness.