Stepping out of the helicopter, I take a minute to breathe in the fresh Chicago air. After nothing but miles of endless sand and dust, it's nice to be back home, even if only for a day or two.
Honestly, I am still confused as to why the Army was so insistent that I am the one to help out Intelligence with this case.
They could have sent anyone, some newbie trying to prove himself. But me? I was one of their most highly skilled, highly ranked officers.
I'm not complaining though. Even if it's been about two years since I've been back in Chicago, it still feels like home.
I walk over to Mouse, who is waiting for me with a huge smile on his face and I pull him into a bear hug.
"How you doing, buddy?" I ask the minute we pull away.
"Alright. How about you? You're staying safe out there, right?" He asks.
"Sure," I say laughing.
He laughs and leads me to the car. The drive is mostly quiet. We don't really know what to talk about.
He knows how hard the tours can be, how much of a toll they can take on your body and your mind, but he doesn't ask how I am, because it's too personal.
I know how hard this job for the police must be with his PTSD still so heightened and I don't ask how he is either for the same reasons.
The weirdest part is that we're basically brothers. Will was never there much and Mouse didn't actually have a brother, so we made a sort of silent agreement to never let the other one fall too far if something went wrong in their line of work.
I still regret it. Not being there for him more. When the stress of the job got to be too much, he stopped. Said goodbye and didn't look back.
He turned to drugs to stop his hands from shaking and alcohol to keep the nightmares away. And I went back. I barely did a damn thing to help him.
Which is why it is currently so awkward in the car. I don't risk a glance over at him on the off chance that he is looking back.
Luckily the car ride is short, no more than 10 minutes. I'm about to ask if he has any clothes to change into, as I am still stuck in fatigues, but I notice how much weight he's lost and I don't bother, knowing they wouldn't fit anyways.
We step outside and I breathe in the fresh air once again before turning and following him inside.
We pass the front desk, where an older lady gives Mouse a death stare. He avoids it and goes to walk past her when I stop altogether.
Mouse quickly runs back and grabs my arm to pull me upstairs. I flinch at the touch and he curses.
"Shit, Jay. I'm sorry man, I didn't even think… I should've- I'm sorry," he rambles on.
"Mouse. It's okay," I say, cutting him off. He nods and lets it go.
The lady at the desk is watching us and I walk over. "Need something?"
She shakes her head. "Nope. Just wondering what you two kids are up to, that's all."
I narrow my eyes at her but don't comment that it's none of her business. "The army sent me. Rangers, actually. About this case Intelligence is working."
"Oh. So you know Mouse?" She says.
"Yeah. We used to lead a team together. Before-" I quickly stop talking, knowing Greg doesn't want anyone to know.
"Never mind. I'm gonna go now," I say, moving to rejoin Mouse.
"Before what?" She asks before I can leave.
"It's none of my business. If Mouse wanted you to know, he'd tell you," I say with a shrug of my shoulders.
She thinks for a moment and nods, seeming to accept my answer. Before she can say anything else, Mouse pulls me away and up the stairs.
"Who's that?" I ask.
"Trudy. Sergeant Platt. The desk sergeant."
I don't respond, just nod. I wince as I notice how many stairs there are. The bullet wound I recently acquired in the knee would be aching like hell by the time I reached the top.
Mouse, of course, notices my hesitation and wraps an arm around my shoulders, letting me lean some weight on him.
I reluctantly lean on him, letting him help me limp up the stairs. At the last stretch, I let go, limping up the rest myself.
"Hey, guys. Can I get your attention please," Mouse announces when we reach the top. I shoot him a weird look, just like everybody else in the room.
"Go ahead, Mouse," the man in the back says.
"Right. Sorry. Okay, um, this is Jay. Sorry, um, Master Sergeant Jay Halstead. The army sent him to help with our case. He has some information that might help," Mouse stutters through his sentence before sitting down.
"Yeah. Um, what he said," I say, laughing a little. Mouse looks away and bites back a laugh.
Everyone looks at me in confusion when I start laughing, probably because they don't know how close Mouse and I are.
"Greg, dude. I'm sorry. It's not funny," I say, laughing anyway. "But you used to brief an entire base of guys you didn't know and now you're just talking to the people you work with every day and you choke up?"
Mouse thinks for a second and starts laughing a tiny bit. He lays his head down on the desk and his back starts shaking with laughter. I calm myself down and try to address the team in the room. Mouse joins me.
They are all staring at us in shock and confusion, and one look from Mouse is all it takes for him to start laughing again.
"Now I know why we always got in trouble. We could never get anything done because we spent all our time making fun of each other," Mouse gets out.
I laugh a little and take a deep breath before talking. "Yep. Like he said. I'm Master Sergeant Jay Halstead. And yes, I do have some intel on your case. I think. I'm not really up to speed on everything."
I look at the sergeant and point to the big board in the middle of the room. "May I?"
"Of course," the sergeant says. "Anything you have could help us. We keep hitting dead ends."
I nod as I examine the board. "Well, these victims here are not exactly right."
"What do you mean?" One of the guys asks.
"There's way more. This group kills everyone. Not just soldiers. They'll kill anyone who tries to help the soldiers or stands up to them. Which also means civilians."
"But I thought civilians over there don't like soldiers? Why would they help them?"
I sigh. "A lot of people think that, but it's actually not entirely true. There are some civilians who like having us there or respect us enough to defend us."
"Oh. Didn't know that," the guys says. He reaches out a hand. "Adam Ruzek."
"Nice to meet you," I say, shaking his hand. He nods. "Same here."
"Honestly, all we really know for sure is that they always leave a signature. A mark on the bodies," I say, pulling out a picture and putting it on the board. "Everything else we're just speculating about."
"Does the army run its own investigation on these sorts of things?" A girl asks from across the room.
I look over and notice how pretty she is. Her wavy blonde hair that extends past her shoulders and her deep blue eyes that I could get lost in.
"Yeah. But they don't have a ton of resources in the investigative department, so it isn't given much attention," I finally respond.
She doesn't say anything right away, seemingly staring straight through me at all the hurt and the pain I've endured in my life. I look away and she snaps out of it.
"Oh. That's unfortunate," she says.
"So, you two know each other?" Another guy asks.
"Yeah. We met in training. Then we ended up running a team together," I answer, leaving out several main details.
They all look around, knowing I wasn't telling the whole truth. "Jay and I served together for two tours. That's it. He's not telling you everything because he doesn't want me to relapse from the memories," Mouse explains.
They all look shocked at his bluntness and I can't help but laugh. "You should've seen him out in the field. He was a hard ass."
Mouse slaps me. "Sorry," I joke.
"Well, you can set up on this desk if you'd like," the sergeant says, motioning to the desk next to the girl.
"I'm Sergeant Hank Voight, these are Detectives Upton, Dawson and Olinsky, and Officers Ruzek, Atwater, and Burgess."
I nod and head to the desk. I sit down and watch silently as the rest of the team presents what they have. Near the end though, I step in.
"Hold up. Who's that? What's that victim's name?" I ask, pointing to a picture that looks too much like my friend from the Marines.
Voight walks over and looks at it. "Terry Egan. Victim number four."
"Damn it," I curse under my breath.
"Did you know him?" Adam speaks up.
"Yeah. We did a tour together. He was in the Marines. He joined my Ranger team for a few missions," I explain. "His wife was pregnant, last I heard."
Everyone looks away at that.
"Sorry Jay," Mouse says.
"Nah, it's alright. Just a good guy is all," I say.
They all look shocked at that comment.
"I'm sorry. With the army you have to learn to disconnect. I am kind of a little bitter after seven tours," I laugh humorlessly.
"You don't need to apologize. Do you know if there are any specific regions they target?" Voight asks me.
"No. They'll hit anywhere they pass through. I think they've started expanding to big cities though, which explains all the bodies here in Chicago," I say, examining the board.
Suddenly a hand claps down on my shoulder and I flinch. "Sorry man," a voice says.
I turn around and see Adam with his hands up. "No, it's okay. Just a little jumpy."
I excuse myself and head to what looks like their break room. Mouse follows me in and closes the door.
"Tell me what's going on," he says.
"No, I don't want to-" I start.
"Jay. What happened?" Mouse asks.
"Our convoy got hit last week. I lost three good men," I say, rubbing a hand over my face.
He sighs. "I'm so sorry man. If there's anything I can do, I'm here."
"Yeah, thanks Mouse," I say.
I can feel the curious stares of everybody in the room, but I don't acknowledge them. I shoot Mouse a smile and head back out.
"Is everything okay?" Voight asks me.
"Yeah, it's fine, just-" I start, but Mouse cuts me off again.
"Jay, come on. Go to my apartment. You can help us tomorrow," Mouse says.
I'm about to protest when Mouse gives me his look that says not to argue and hands me a key. I nod.
As I head out, I can hear Mouse explaining that I lost some men but I don't care enough to go back.
I haven't slept in over three days and I was going to go to Mouse's apartment and crash.
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By the time I woke up I saw that it was already 2 in the afternoon the next day. I jumped out of bed in Mouse's guest bedroom and rushed to get changed.
I made sure to grab my credentials and gun before leaving. Ever since I joined the army, I hadn't been able to leave without my gun.
It didn't take me long to get back to the district. When I walked inside, the desk sergeant waved me over.
"Yes?" I ask.
"I just wanted to thank you for your service. And to apologize for yesterday," she whispers to me.
"Um, thanks," I say.
She nods. I can tell she wants more information but I don't give it to her. She notices me shutting her down and backs off respectfully.
She buzzes me up and I head upstairs, nodding to everyone before joining Mouse in the break room.
"Hey man. Nice nap?" He jokes. I smile but don't laugh as I see a familiar look on his face.
"I have to go back when I'm done here, Mouse," I tell him. His face falls.
"Do you? Cause you can stop accepting tours. You can say no and they will honorably discharge you, no questions asked. Especially after everything you've done for this country," Mouse says.
"What else am I gonna do, Mouse? There's nothing for me in Chicago. I can't live out the rest of my life in your guest bedroom," I say.
"Join the academy. Become a cop. Get into Intelligence and work with me everyday. That's what you can do," Mouse says simply.
"Seriously? No way. I flinch at the slightest touch and a car alarm sends me into full on panic mode and I get stuck in a flashback. What do you think a gunshot would do?" I say.
"You've found a way to deal with it overseas," he says.
"Yes, but over there I can turn the PTSD off and get the job done. It's different here. Chicago is the one place that I can let myself go. I don't have to worry about anything. Becoming a cop would destroy that, as silly as it sounds," I explain.
"Maybe. But you were meant for this line of work, Jay. Just consider it. Please, for me. You owe me at least that," he says.
I glance at him and nod. He's right. But I'm not considering it. Not now at least.
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Jay walks back out of the break room before I can say anything else. I'm worried about him.
His limp wasn't getting any better and he was extremely jumpy. I knew I had to help him, but I didn't know how.
I figured convincing him to leave the army and join the police force would be easy. I could watch his back again and he could maybe, just maybe, begin to recover from all the horrible things he's seen.
But he didn't even want to hear it. I know he thinks it's impossible, but I think it could save his life. If he keeps going the way he is out in Afghanistan, he won't make it to next year.
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"Hey, Halstead, you okay?" Someone says as they wave a hand in front of my face.
I snap back to reality. I realize I'm on the ground and Mouse has a hand on my chest, trying to get me to breathe normally.
"Give him some space," Mouse says as I feel a panic attack coming on. I want to laugh at how well he knows me, but I can't bring in enough air to.
I calm down eventually, but not without the help of Mouse, Voight, and Hailey. For some reason, her voice calmed my breathing and cleared my mind.
With her I felt at complete peace, something I hadn't felt in years. It felt good.