Hello, another double chapter. Thank you as always for reading this story and for your kindness and support. I'm so so grateful x
I just wanted to say that I'm based in the UK and observe what's happened in the US with horror but also with a realisation that our situation is no better, systemic racism is rife through our history it's all proof that I could never sit here in arrogance pretending it's not an issue that's been going on for too long. For all those of you protesting, please stay safe as you can. I will do all I can to continue to educate myself better including how to listen and support, taking action wherever and whenever I need to now and for always. Black Lives Matter.
"Must admit I hadn't expected the tour Price mentioned would involve driving around the city delivering alcohol to Vets groups," Jay comments, looking across at Barnet who's driving the van, "Is alcohol even a good idea for those who are struggling?"
Barnet doesn't look at Jay, he stares straight ahead. His hands tighten around the steering wheel as he shakes his head.
"Alcohol? That's what you reckon is in those crates, Foster?" Barnet laughs. Low. Humorless.
"I figured. We work at a bar. And alcohol, it's the lesser of a multitude of other possibilities."
"You've been watching too many cop shows, Foster," he looks at Jay as they pull up outside a building, "We only supply what's needed. What we get asked for and to our brothers, we supply it cheaper than they'd get any place else so no one complains. Everyone's happy."
Jay doesn't reply. Doesn't get the chance because Barnet's already out the van and walking to the back of it, opening the double doors and Jay feels the rush of icy air reaching him within a second or two.
Also hears, "Well, you ever gonna get out and help?"
Jay does. Jay helps. As they go into an old building in Canaryville. One he's never realized was for veterans. It's a sizeable room with a bar in the corner and a bunch of men of varying ages sitting around tables.
It may as well be a clone for Brian's place. The entire atmosphere's like it. Almost as if it's transplanted here.
"Pete!"
Jay's thoughts are interrupted by a voice and a man approaching Jay and Barnet holding his hand out, which Barnet shakes vigorously before he gestures to Jay.
"Carter, this is Ryan Foster. Specialist Ryan Foster. Served in the Rangers. Ryan, this is Gerard Carter, an old buddy of mine and Price's from way back."
Carter looks Jay up and down before he looks back at Barnet, eyebrows raised, "Another one, Pete. What happened to Tony?"
"Oh, you know. No one stays around too long, Carter. Anyways, I'm showing Foster what's expected of him. How easy what we do for you and everyone else we help is."
Carter's eyebrow raise upwards again for a fraction of a second before he turns to Jay.
"Piece o'cake just like Peter said. Ryan, right?"
At Jay's nod, he continues, "We appreciate what Mr Price and Peter and their guys do for us. Next time, Pete won't be around so you can stay for a beer as a token of our appreciation?"
Jay grins, "Yeah, that'd be cool though I'll be driving so a soda instead."
"A soda?"
Barnet and Carter both laugh as the latter gestures toward Jay, "Hear that Pete, figure you got a regular boy scout here."
"Not for long Carter, not for long. Don't worry," Barnet assures him, "Ryan here'll be singing from our hymn sheets within a coupla weeks." Barnet emphasizes his words by throwing an arm around Jay's shoulder and patting his chest for a second before he lets go.
"I have no doubt," Carter replies before someone calls his name, and he turns, gesturing towards the crate.
"Okay, well, we gotta get back," Barnet nods at Jay.
"Sure thing. Good to meet ya, Ryan, and send my best to Tony when you see him, Pete. Don't forget to stop by anytime, Foster and we can talk about days gone by."
Jay nods toward Carter and watches the other 2 men as they bid their goodbyes. No hint of tension in Barnet's demeanor at the mention of Hunt.
Perhaps he is still alive?
A couple of minutes later back in the van and Jay's got a million thoughts bubbling in his head, most of them centered on Anthony Hunt and also whatever's in the crates. They're all sealed so Jay couldn't attempt to open them at any point even if he wanted to.
He figures that at some point he'll be let out alone, particularly bearing in mind what Carter had said. As for Hunt, there'd been no telltale sign of tension in Barnet when Carter had said his name, but then again would there be? If Barnet's responsible even partly for the deaths of Townsend, Flynn and Farmer and who knows who else? Would he even flinch at this stage?
"So, Ryan, tell me we all got one particularly heavy experience we went through. Torture or killing some kid or witnessing a ton of bodies after a massacre or suicide bomb. What's yours?"
Jay flicks his gaze from where he'd been vaguely staring out the window considering everything to Barnet who for his body language and the bright way he'd asked, it's like he asked Jay what his next vacation of choice would be, not the stuff of nightmares.
Babur and Tabssum cross his mind, but he flicks them away. Half a dozen other possibilities come to mind. Horrific memories. The evil man can strike against others. Some of them his fellow soldiers, even.
The rain's persistent in Chicago today. It's fast approaching the time of year where snowfall's a possibility each day. It reminds Jay of another time.
"We were waiting out one night. Ready to attack, but we got attacked first. It rained so hard that when they hit us, you couldn't distinguish between the blood and the rain. Guy next to me had his brains blown out. 3 of us survived. 2 of the 3 died back at the base."
Barnet whistles, "You made it outta there though, Foster, someone must've been shining down on you, looking out for ya."
Jay doesn't respond.
"I sense you're holding something back though. I hope you'll learn to trust me, us."
"What can you do?"
"We can reframe those memories into something you'll grow from."
Even if Jay weren't undercover. If he was just Ryan Foster, he'd like to believe he'd have enough street smarts to see through it. Except there's a trail of bodies of apparently bright men with torture as part of the trust they had in Barnet and Price to be a warning to Jay not to be complacent.
"Sounds interesting," he replies, sending what he hopes is a convincing enough look to the other man.
"It is but only if you meet us halfway. I encourage you to consider it carefully, to be honest and bring some memories to the table that aren't so vague. Aren't so much what every other soldier could write home about. Next week, yeah next week we'll explore it. Right before Thanksgiving, how'd'you like that?"
Not at all, Jay thinks. Not at all. He manages a smile in acknowledgement somehow, though.
In the week after Jay'd suggested to Voight about Hailey going under, she'd almost said no. Voight too. For various reasons. The timing for one. Flynn having met Hailey already another reason. Losing Hailey as Jay's main contact while he's undercover and the fact that they haven't yet found their rhythm as partners and that when Jay would go to the bar, would it be obvious because they haven't quite worked out each other's tics or habits yet? The still learning how the other works undercover and a concern that Jay's motivation for it was, at least in part, in relation to Marcie Townsend.
For all the doubt though, there were enough reasons for Hailey to go under too. Losing the eye with Jay no longer working in the bar regularly for one and the doubt Jay'd expressed about Marcie which Hailey senses is as big an issue as his concern for her. The chance she'd have to get to know Ryan. To come at it all from a completely different angle where Barnet's concerned and be around when Jay was downstairs at the bar.
And Flynn? Well, he'd not given Jay's identity away unless Price and Barnet and Hunt were all better actors than every single Oscar winner in its history. It was a calculated risk, which if it all went to crap they could easily pull Hailey out.
It's Hailey's 4th day on the job. The 4th day of watching with concern as Marcie struggled with orders of over 1 drink. The 4th day of attempting to break through the barriers Marcie's put up suddenly having been by comparison so low during their first meeting.
4th day of attempting to talk Marcie into talking about Ryan. About Stapleton. About Hunt.
Hunt. She'd spoken with Atwater earlier and there's still no sign of him. Alive or dead. There's a meeting tonight, so maybe he'll show. She doesn't think he will though.
Hailey stops wiping down the bar after the 3rd time of doing it already today and turns back toward the sink in the corner next to where Marcie's tilting her head toward Hailey.
"You got family in Canada, Paula?"
"Yeah. My brothers."
"No parents?"
Hailey shrugs, "Not to talk to, no."
"Uh-huh, I know that tone."
"What tone?" Hailey plays dumb.
"I used to be like you, Paula. Hiding my heartbreak at the poor relationship I had with my folks. It's how I ended up spiralling into terrible relationship after terrible relationship trying to find a love like I never had with mom and dad."
"You ever find it?"
The older woman looks away, across the bar. Her expression is distant again as she quietly replies, "A little while."
Before Hailey can ask anything, Marcie straightens and looks down at the phone she has permanently in her hand.
"Anyway, I hope you'll do better. I figure everyone deserves better than that. Now, I got to go see if Peter's back yet."
Subject closed.
Someone clears their throat and Hailey flicks her head toward the noise. Terry. She smiles at him and reaches into the fridge for another drink, undoes the screw cap and hands it to him.
He nods his thanks, looks in the direction of the door in the corner for a second before returning his attention to Hailey, pointing his finger at her.
"I'm surprised Marcie agreed to you being here behind that but more than that I'm double surprised Barnet did too. Woulda thought having a younger lady behind here would bring back pretty awful memories for him, especially with the links to Eddie and whatever the hell happened to him."
Hailey tries not to be too obvious in the way she responds. Instead, she subtly leans over the bar, grabbing the cloth again and wiping at a spill of alcohol that's not there and mutters a curious, "Oh?"
"Yeah," Terry takes another sip and then leans closer to Hailey, smelling of cigarettes and cheap beer. "Kacey. Eddie's younger sister. About your size, red hair and the sharpest wit you ever heard."
"She died?"
Terry shuts his eyes, shrugs, dragging his free hand across his beard, "No one knows. 'Cept they found blood in the place she was renting. Rumor has it she and Marcie's boy had a thing together."
Hailey plays dumb, "Marcie's got a son?"
Terry chuckles, "Oh Paula, you got a hell of a lot to learn. Or not if you're smart and get out quick," He reaches for Paula's hand, serious and suddenly appearing sober rather than the drunken state she's only ever seen him in these past days "Look at me properly, honey."
Hailey does.
"There ain't ever be anything good that came of working on the side of that bar or even on this side of the bar if you get too close. Don't stay here too long. Don't get sucked in."
He pulls his hand away quickly and looks quickly to his right. Hailey follows his gaze to see Marcie and Barnet watching them. Barnet whispering something in Marcie's ear who nods, her lips set in a tight line. Her eyes avoid making contact with anything except the floor now.
"Yeah. I said enough," Terry concludes and walks back toward his seat as Hailey busies herself, feeling Barnet's eyes on her the entire time.
And when he's gone, Marcie's eyes stay glued on Hailey instead.
Marcie greets Jay with a hug that almost smothers him and as she releases him, she lightly slaps his arm.
"Ow," Jay yelps, exaggerating the force of the slap and right on cue, she laughs though as Jay's attention turns toward the bar and Hailey/Paula and his own smile fades, Marcie's does too.
"You replaced me already, Marce? I'm hurt."
"Oh yeah, well if you hadn't left me in the lurch and joined Mr Price and all, I wouldn't have had to," Marcie gestures toward Hailey, "Ryan, meet Paula. Paula, meet Ryan."
Hailey leans across the bar, her hand stretched out toward Jay.
"Hey Ryan," she greets him brightly, "I'm Paula. I'm from Canada."
Jay eyes her for a second before he exchanges a glance with Marcie, who smirks as Hailey pulls her hand back.
"Paula, get Ryan a beer," Marcie instructs.
"No thanks. I wanna be sharp for," Jay flicks his head toward the door letting the gesture finish the sentence for him.
"First time out go okay?"
Jay frowns, "I guess. Suppose I'll find out soon enough."
"What do you do, Ryan?" Hailey asks Jay, and he has to admit she's good at the wide-eyed friendly, naturally inquisitive sort of innocence.
Ryan has a million and one shutters up though.
"Keep my nose out of people's business, Paula. Exactly what you should do as a matter of fact."
Hailey purses her lips ever so slightly then quick as a flash and with a sweet smile that belies her words, she replies "I'm kinda done with assholes who think they're entitled to be rude only because they've been around some place longer than me. Or they see the color of my hair and assume I'm this cute little person they can push around. Thanks for the advice Ryan, you can stick it up your ass. What do you Americans say, have a nice day?"
She's good at that too. The put-down expertly delivered and probably a long time coming in reality, he figures.
To Jay's right, even as he raises his eyebrows quickly and shakes his head, he hears Marcie's voice.
"Well, we can all see how this is gonna work out right?"
He looks at her in time to see the way she winks at Hailey who's stood next to Marcie now, and rolling her eyes, and then at him. He has to stop himself from doing the same.
Anthony Hunt isn't there. Jay stares at the empty chair pointedly and next at Flynn, who finds something fascinating to gaze at on the ceiling.
"He did good," Barnet reports from across the other side of the table and Jay reluctantly looks away from Flynn and towards the other 2 men.
He half-smiles, "It was easy to sit in the passenger side and help carry a few crates."
Price shakes his head, "No, it's important work. Very important." To Barnet he asks, "Think he's ready to go on his own?"
"After 1 delivery? No. Day after tomorrow, could be," Barnet pauses, chewing his bottom lip, nervous suddenly, "I said we'd start the process next week."
"So soon?"
Barnet looks almost panicked, "Well, we could wait a little while of course, whatever you think Mr Price."
Something about Price tells Jay he enjoys the way people squirm even under the slightest question from him. The older man curls his lip contemptuously before he laughs.
"You worry too much, Peter. Crumble too easy. I agree it's right to start it next week," turning to Jay and standing up as he does, he leans close to him. Close enough Jay can smell the stale sweat and he has to inhale deeply to not gag at the smell.
"You got a topic in mind, Foster? The deepest, darkest memories. None of your chicken shit oh my brother got shot in Afghanistan and all I got was a few lousy nasty dreams after. If that's what you come with, we ain't interested. You want us to change your life? Give us what we need that means we can use and enable you with the tools you need to stop those memories forever."
Forever. He's got that right, Jay thinks.
Jay manages a nod, even a slight smile, "I got dreadful memories and awful experiences to keep this place going for years."
Price and Barnet's laughter seems real. Hell, even Flynn's does until Jay catches his eye and his eyes lower again and he looks like the laugh will choke him.
Nothing much happens. It's a strange dynamic and Jay wonders if it was ever not even when the other men were here. When there were more of them. Maybe there was some kind of veteran's camaraderie that Jay's witnessed the times he's spent around a lot of them before.
Or perhaps the shadow of death and suspicion settled too uneasily to allow it to happen.
Price calls a close to the meeting and they're almost at the door when Jay asks the question.
"Where's Hunt? He's more my kind of my age. More than you guys cause no offence, I figure I got more in common with him than with a bunch o'dinosaurs."
The temperature drops to a level even Antarctica's never experienced Jay muses. That is aside from the hot breath on his neck and the hand that grips his shoulder which as Jay turns his head as far as he can to look, he sees it isn't Barnet or Price but Flynn.
"Hunt's busy. You worry about your own shit and stop asking questions, Foster."
The hand releases the hold on his shoulder and Jay rolls his neck, takes a breath and half-turns, smirking as he does, "You could've said so," then at the death-stares each of the men gives him he shrugs, "Or not."
He pushes the door and doesn't glance behind him as he walks up the stairs and into the bar, sliding onto the stool, not making eye contact with anyone and only then releasing a breath.
"Give him this," Marcie instructs quietly as Hailey studies Jay, placing the bottle in Hailey's hand and pushing her toward Jay.
Hailey sends a confused look back toward Marcie before she approaches Jay and undoes the cap, sets down a mat and places the bottle on top of it.
"From Marcie," she explains as Jay looks up and arches an eyebrow, shifts to his left slightly and holds up the bottle, mouthing a 'thank you' to Marcie.
"Canada right?" Jay queries, trying again as Ryan to be a good guy.
"Well remembered," Hailey leans against the bar side-on.
"And you're officially done with arrogant rude assholes who act like they know it all and don't even give you a chance to prove yourself, am I right?"
There's a flicker of surprise in Hailey's eyes before she regains her cool and shrugs, "Canadian men. American men. I should move to Costa Rica, but I'm sure I'd find they're all the same there too."
Jay leans back on the stool and in a low voice replies, "Don't give up on the Americans yet, Paula," then he takes a sip, watching Hailey as she does and the slight blush to her cheeks.
"Oh yeah? Well, if you know of any American non screw ups, present company excepted, tell them to file an orderly queue outside the bar."
"Present company excepted?"
Hailey shrugs, "Eh, it doesn't do well to mix business with pleasure."
"I'll be sure to remember that," Jay grins.
He thinks he's imagining it at first. The humming sound from behind Hailey, but it gets slightly louder as she nears them both.
"The wedding march, Marce, really?"
Marcie huffs, "You're no fun, Ryan Foster, seriously Paula, he's no fun, no fun at- Well I'll be."
"You okay, Marce?" Jay looks at the older woman as she stops talking. He looks quickly to Hailey next who tenses for all of a second before she catches Jay's eye and with studied calm, regains her composure.
Jay turns, enough to see that Steven Flynn's appearance in the bar hasn't only taken Marcie seemingly by surprise but Terry and the 3 older guys too.
Flynn looks like he's about to breeze by but he stops, looking at Jay first, a quick nod in his direction and then at Hailey, a lingering stare, impassive before he winks at Marcie.
"Pete didn't tell me he'd recruited somebody new, Marcie, who's this young lady?"
Marcie places an arm around Hailey and pulls her in closer, "It's been too long, Steven, this is Paula."
Flynn extends a hand toward Hailey, a smile on his face, warmth personified to an uninformed onlooker, "Paula, huh?"
"Yes, Paula," Barnet says from the end of the bar, "Not my choice, but Marcie tells me the regulars already love her so who am I to argue?"
Jay tenses. Flynn has the knowledge, the potential to blow everything right now. Jay sips at the bottle, studied indifference in the way he acts that he hopes is convincing.
Hailey shakes Flynn's hand, "Hey Steven? Get you a drink? I make a mean cocktail to silence any doubts you may have about my bar tending credentials." Hailey looks from Flynn to Barnet.
Confident. Friendly.
Jay watches the look that Flynn and Barnet exchange. Watches for danger. Instead, the frowns turn to smiles and Flynn lays his other hand on top of Hailey's and shakes his head kindly.
"Nah, I got a wife to go home to and a car I don't wanna crash. I'm sure this guy won't say no though," Flynn lifts the hand covering Hailey's and points at Barnet before he steps away, exchanges a meaningful glance with Jay and walks away.
Another hurdle seemingly cleared. Who knows how many more to encounter.