Hello! so much later than I planned with this update. Last week in work was crazy, and I tried to write, but it wasn't happening. And I need to concentrate to write this story. Anyway, here I am with 2 more chapters (facepalms) and maybe a little more in the next day or so (more of that at the end of the 2nd chapter updated today). (NB. lots of research where the chips etc., are concerned though finding specific info is hard to so yeah please squint and go with it a bit).
I just have to say that hand on heart when I started writing this story. I never imagined it would take over my entire brain space and I never dreamed I would experience your overwhelmingly kind words and your interest which motivates me so much. I'm so grateful and I hope i don't let you all down. Thank you x a million. xx PS. nons, i'm so proud of you and the work you're putting in for your exams, you're gonna do amazing.
This chapter continues where the last one left off for Jay. It's not a simple ride for him for the first little bit, so please be aware of that.
Where minutes ago in the memories he's reliving it was Tuesday, now it's Wednesday.
All Jay can think about is that the color was peach. The color of the Halstead bathroom fittings when Jay was a kid, that is. Peach with green paint on the walls.
When Jay got in fights as a child, he'd yell a cheery 'hello' to his mom and disappear upstairs to clean himself, to wipe the blood away.
The first few times he got away with it and no one came upstairs. If his mom noticed a graze, she'd mouth, 'You ok?' to him and he'd nod because it was easier.
Even if it meant that tomorrow would be a repeat; more of the same.
One day, he got too casual. Thought he was safe, and he'd left the door unlocked. Hadn't even stopped wiping his face with the sponge when he'd heard her come up the stairs.
He still remembers the way she'd raised his chin. The way she'd been smiling, soothing and warm before the smile had disappeared and she'd breathed out 'Oh honey' and how for a moment she'd looked towards the door and she'd said, 'It wasn't him?'.
They'd both known what she meant. Who she meant, and no was the answer because for all his faults. Pat Halstead isn't violent, at least not with words.
She'd made him promise that if he wouldn't let her go to the school and talk to his teachers. At least he'd let her fix him up after.
Green drapes separate the area where Jay's kept from civilization. Family. The smell of food. That makes Jay's stomach make noises to show how hungry he is.
A hand cups his chin, tilting it upwards. He sees teeth and a smile right before there's an explosion of pain as the hand that tilted his chin upwards, squeezes to a fist and he'd fall to the floor on the chair if not for the guys either side of him gripping the chair tight.
Jay would give anything to be home with his mother right now. Regrets that he hadn't taken the opportunity to go home the moment he'd heard the news. Had emailed her because she was avoiding calls and said he'd be by her side in an instant if she needed him.
'It can wait' she'd written.
What if waiting means he never gets the chance? She won't lift his chin and sigh with worry. Jay won't get the chance to take care of her for a change. He'll be yet another KIA statistic. Nothing more than a series of letters on a gravestone.
"Tell us what you know, we won't have to do anything else. We'll take all the pain away."
After ten seconds of an unblinking stare, the pretense of a lack of fear, the explosion of pain happened again except this time, the men either side of him let him fall, let his head crack against the floor.
"Get the water," he'd heard, though his eyes remained shut.
followed by
"That's right. Keep going. We'll take all the pain away."
Jay's eyes fly open as a hand tilts his chin upwards and Price smirks before looking behind him.
"Damn, almost Pete, almost."
Jay knows they think he's out of it. That he doesn't notice the way they seem happy, gleeful at Jay's apparent distress, but ultimately frustrated that he'd stopped short of the worst of what happened to him.
At least outwardly.
Jay's mind travels beyond the moment the head guy, DelNawaz, had requested the water. Takes him far beyond that moment so he could shut his eyes and let it overcome him if he wanted. Playing the memory like clockwork. Like a film, and he's the narrator.
It's an advantage Jay realizes that he can choose at what moment to become more aware so they don't quite take everything from him. They don't get the benefit of what would be too much for them to know.
It's a distinct disadvantage to his everyday life, to the sleep he knows he'll lose for weeks to come that it feels like it's yesterday now. Along with the pain of the memories of clinging on so he'd get to go home to his mother. In time to witness her decline.
"It's early. We can go again. Give him some more?" Barnet suggests as he crouches down next to Price to Jay's right.
Price looks thoughtful but shakes his head, "Not after that one time with you know who. Almost didn't get him back."
"Given he was dead 3 days later, can't understand why we even bothered getting him back."
"You know why, Peter. We don't have to be reckless. We got time with his one, ain't we Ryan? We're close, I can smell it."
The trouble with Jay is he's stubborn. The trouble with Jay is that he pushes himself a little too far each time.
He breathes in, breathes out, breathes in, breathes out, breathes in till a cloth covers his head and suddenly he's overwhelmed by water, a barrage of it. If he could remember his training, he could survive this. If he remembered not to panic, he'd be fine.
If he could only remember what he'd learned. What the training guys in his unit had been so impressed with. His mettle, his ability to cut everything out and simply hold his nerve through the pain and panic.
If he wasn't so focused on trying not to drown and the panic he feels. If he can just find that place in his head where he can pretend it's not happening he could be okay. He's proven that he can be okay before. Except that was training, that wasn't real like this.
When he's blacking out, when his lungs are burning and darkness claws at his vision and he's almost ready to accept his fate. Suddenly he can breathe again and more than that he can see, but it hurts. Hurts so much and he splutters, water flying everywhere, vomit that's only water spills onto his body and onto the floor around him and he moans. A quiet, broken sound. Or at least he thinks he's quiet.
Slowly he regains his composure, and he convinces himself he can handle all this. Till a hand grips the back of his neck, the cloth covers his face again and he thinks he screams out 'No!' and his mouth is still open as more water falls on him like a million tsunamis at once and the burning is instant.
He thinks he hears a voice. Probably DelNawaz saying:
No, we got to keep going. You're okay, you're doing great.
Then he doesn't hear a thing, and the darkness comes faster.
And all he can hear in his head is no more, no fucking more, no more I can't fucking do this anymore. He's surprised that he can think and hear this coherently given he's drowning.
Somehow he hears those same words once more, encroaching, intruding, invading his senses.
No, we got to keep going. You're okay, you're doing great.
Given the way his breath gets stolen from him each time the water tumbles onto his face and the grip on his body either side of him stays in place like he's in a vice so he can't move and the way it seems to happen quicker each time, he doubts they're right.
One more time he hears the same words.
No, we got to keep going. You're okay, you're doing great.
He's done though, and he kicks out, makes contact, hears a satisfying yell and screams out, "NO MORE. I SWEAR NO MORE."
Hands leave his body and he sinks to the floor, panting, sobbing, pulling at the cloth on his face. Crying for his mom like he's 10 years old again. When he opens his eyes, he expects to see the green drapes, to see DelNawaz's face.
He doesn't expect chair legs and a table that looks modern. Doesn't expect to see a face that doesn't fit in Afghanistan. Nothing he sees fits with the Afghanistan he'd known. And that's when he remembers. Somehow its worse.
He moans and cries as he whispers, "No," and he tries to keep his eyes open but he's tired. No, he's exhausted, and he lays his head down. Just for a small sleep. Honestly.
Jay tries to keep his eyes open as he's dragged up the stairs and taken outside. He's more with it now. More in this moment. He tries to search for the person Hailey had seen at the exit point, but either there is no one or he loses consciousness for a while.
The movement of the van he's put in pulls him into a state of half consciousness until the door opens and there's a blast of air and coldness that settles into his bones as he's propped against something followed by a sharp pain on his neck for a second that's gone as fast as it happened. A familiar feeling of discomfort.
They leave him in that place. Left for dead or hoping he gets out of it like they all did, maybe till the last time they didn't.
It's easier and somehow less upsetting to focus on that than allow his eyes to shut, allow sleep and the inevitable nightmares to follow.
"We should've followed them, Al." Adam thumps the steering wheel.
"And risk them catching the tail? These guys aren't stupid. Neither's Halstead."
"Tonight was a bust, nothing on the wire. No one waiting at the side exit tonight. All we got is Upton's theory on a damn chip. Also, doesn't matter if he's stupid or not. These guys are also murderers."
Al gives him a look, "Who aren't ready to kill again. Not yet."
"And what if you're wrong?"
"I'm not," Olinsky answers, certain.
"I damn sure hope you're right, O. I really do." Adam turns the car round and heads back toward the 21st. The bar 's been closed for almost an hour and Upton had left sometime ago to head back to her place.
Me too, kid. Me too, Al thinks.
Snowflakes are beautiful to see when you're indoors. Wrapped up and shielded from the reality of the cold that comes with them.
Winter in Afghanistan brought snowflakes as large as he's seen in Chicago. Not as cold perhaps but you got used to warmer weather. Associated warmer weather with the country so it had been a shock to a young Jay Halstead who had not left the US before travelling to this other country to kill men his age and barely out of childhood boys just a few years younger than him.
Belatedly Jay realizes he's in that spiral now where everything reminds him of that country. Even snow in his hometown.
A downward spiral.
He should move because that would take his mind away from the thoughts. Except he's dead tired. He knows hypothermia, and he's not at that point yet, but if he carries on sitting like that, he will be.
Still, lying here and thinking about Afghanistan and not wanting to cry is a novel experience so he stays put.
Jay thinks he hears an engine, thinks he sees headlights, and he definitely hears footsteps and he blinks stupidly up toward where the direction he figures he should.
He sees the silhouette of someone. Someone tall. Someone who crouches. For a second thinks he recognizes the figure but that thought disappears as quickly as the figure who nods before they hurry away and Jay definitely hears the engine this time and the way the vehicle speeds away.
He should absolutely get up now. Especially if no one knows he's here, so he does. He stands up, and it takes an alarming amount of effort to make it upright and stay there.
Too much effort. He feels winded and foggy and it occurs to him that perhaps somehow they drugged him after all.
Not that it's worth worrying about now, he decides as he shuts his eyes where he stands and sinks back down to the ground nearer to the sidewalk.
Not so worried about nightmares, for now at least.
No one had noticed when Hailey had come back after the call to Burgess. She'd handed Terry an extra drink on her return to say thank you and he'd smirked and said 'You didn't need to. Not as though this place ever gets busy'.
That was earlier. Now she's leaning against the kitchen counter in the apartment, sipping at water, an eye on her UC phone at all times.
Olinsky just called on her own cell. If things go the way the previous times did, she should hear from someone soon. Sooner rather than later she hopes because the snow's relentless tonight.
In the time she's been home, she's looked up microchips. Learned more than she could ever want to about them and yet she still understands little of the specifics. Hopefully, they'll learn more tomorrow. She almost wants to be proved wrong because placing chips in a person's body even if it's temporary?
Like every single sci-fi movie about the future coming to life and in their world. It's all kinds of frightening and invasive.
Her UC phone vibrates, and she swipes at the screen to read the full message:
Alley next to the Spirit of Truth church. 3438 W Harrison St. It's cold. Be quick.
Hailey doesn't need to look twice, and she pulls on her jacket before picking up her keys, jabbing at the phone, pressing the dial button and holding the cell to her ear as she shuts the door behind her.
Already disconnected. A different burner than the last. Same person as the last time that she feels she knows for certain.
It's almost 4 miles, and she gets there in quick time, the snow's slowed a little but it feels colder.
Hailey sees Jay almost immediately. Huddled in between two dumpsters. His hair is damp to the touch and his lips a white with a touch of blue. He's breathing though, and he opens his eyes albeit sluggishly when she calls his name.
"What time do you call this?" he gets out even while his teeth chatter and he shivers.
"I'm pleased to see you too," she replies, smiling as she helps him up and to the car, turning on the heat a little but not too much. She watches him for a minute, for any sign that he needs further medical treatment.
"I'm okay, Hailey. Take me somewhere I can sleep."
"Got it," she pulls away and drives.
"Ok. Thanks Hailey, tell him we're glad he's okay," Kim hears Hailey's response, "Yeah, we're here at Tech now. I'll let you know as soon as I have anything."
Kim pockets her phone as she sees the tech guy walk into the room, greeting Kevin and nodding towards her.
His name's Dwayne Mitchell. He's in his twenties. Seems almost too young to be working full stop. Almost too cool too. Looks like he should be somewhere glamorous. Appearances can be deceptive, though.
He likely joined tech straight out of college. Thought he'd be working for some blue chip organization. Instead, he's here talking about chips first thing in the morning.
Dwayne sits down at his desk as Kim and Kevin move closer and whirls around in his chair, thumbing back toward the computer.
"So chips, right? That's what the boss told me you wanted to know more about. Not the potato kind either," he grins at his own joke.
Kim and Kevin share an unimpressed glance and look pointedly back at Dwayne, who rolls his eyes but holds his hands up.
"All business, huh? So okay, I heard a little about what happened. Some kind of interference with wire technology and a discovery about some kind of cut or incision on people's bodies, am I right?"
"Yep," Kevin confirms.
"Ok. And I take it you want to find out if something implanted/inserted into a person's body could be enough to disrupt a signal to a wire or if the movies have been lying to us all this whole time?"
"Pretty much," Kim replies.
"Short answer, yeah it's possible. Though I wouldn't think anything like that could work on its own. An RFID chip can interfere with antennas, but I'd expect there to be some kind of backup. Some kind of mechanism that means that if the chip fails, there's something else to cause interference. A barrier to technology working, particularly if the cells are working elsewhere within the building."
"I thought the device our guy has been using was advanced?" Kevin questions.
"One of the new devices that goes in cells, right?" At Kevin and Kim's nods, he continues, "They're brilliant devices. They're better than the old style wires people used to have to use on their bodies too. Harder for people to figure out if there's an issue or for cops or anyone to be made like they used to be, but."
"But?" Kim holds out her hands, shakes her head, "But what?"
"Every technology has its frailty. Some of the finest technology has a fatal flaw waiting to be exposed or hacked."
Kev rubs his face, "So are the chips on their own enough to disrupt everything, our wires and whatever else they've been concerned about enough to place them in people?"
"And are chips versatile enough to be inserted and removed from people in a second and work?" Kim adds.
Dwayne steeples his hands together and rests his elbows on the chair, remains silent for a second as he mulls the questions over.
"Okay, answering these in order. Yes, technically on their own they would be enough but for this to happen repeatedly and for you guys to not get anything. I would imagine there's some kind of backup, some kind of technology blocker in the downstairs area and it being downstairs, that's right, right?"
"Yeah, that's right." Kevin confirms.
"Okay well, the location being downstairs can be an advantage too. Have you ever been underground in some cities in the world, their transportation networks for example, and tried to use your cells? It's hard to get a signal. Everything's getting better, but some places they still don't work at all. That's a factor and they only need to place a few things down there. In the walls or even some kind of device you'd think is for WiFi connections or a router, something like that. Perhaps the chips or whatever it is, they're a smokescreen, something to throw you guys off the scent."
"Ok, and about my question, are they versatile enough or robust enough to be put in people's bodies and work instantly?" Kim presses.
"Yeah, though, can I ask the people with the marks in their skin? Half an inch? Kind of sim card sized?"
Kim nods.
"Ok. So one incision and no signs of disruption to the surrounding skin?"
Kim thinks back to the autopsy reports. Thinks of Jay.
"A reopened cut to the back of the neck but nothing about that much damage to the rest of the surrounding skin, no, why?"
Dwayne's eyebrows shoot skywards, "The back of the neck? Usually it's the hand or the arm, but okay they'd have to do it quickly and without these people knowing and then try to make sure there's no obvious sign of a chip and they put one in each time? Some can do that but I'm guessing they'd need to do it all quickly. Crudely. There's no way there wouldn't be some kind of sign of them messing up, but I'm no expert on that."
"No, it's an excellent point," Kev agrees, "Thanks for all your help Dwayne."
Dwayne shrugs, "This kind of stuff is different from all the usual that's for sure. And I gotta say you could talk to a different tech tomorrow and they may have another opinion. You wanna know my gut instinct?"
"Sure," Kim replies.
"Perhaps the first time, they use a chip. I think it's something else though that's doing the major work. Particularly if the device works upstairs."
Kevin nods at Dwayne and Kim smiles.
"You've been very helpful, Dwayne."
"My job right?" Dwayne grins before he turns his chair back round and faces his computer again signalling for him at least the conversation's closed.
Kevin and Kim walk along the corridor back to the elevator in silence before Kim jabs the down button and sighs.
"So, how the hell do we get in there and downstairs to check for whatever's blocking the signal if it's not just a chip?"
Kevin shakes his head and shrugs, "I got no idea."
"Ok sarge, copy that."
Jay looks up from his position on the couch in his apartment as Hailey ends the call and splays his hands out, "What'd he say?"
Hailey crosses back over to Jay and sits down next to him, picking up the mug that's still half-full of coffee.
"Wants to see us both tomorrow morning."
Jay narrows his eyes, apprehensive, "Oh?"
"He didn't give specifics."
"Okay," Jay responds, no less apprehensive, still there are other things to ask, "Burgess and Kev get anything back from Tech?"
Hailey frowns, "Tech guy said the chip's a possible but likely not the only thing. Some kind of other device doing the bulk of the interference."
"And no way of getting down there with no one knowing so we can't check," Jay shakes his head, dragging a hand through his hair and sinks further into the couch, exhausted.
It isn't sudden. The exhaustion's been coming. He'd slept after a fashion, albeit with constant interruptions and he's still not fully warm. Add to that the fact every other waking thought is Afghanistan.
He's not yet been able to have a shower because every time he'd gone to sleep during the night, the memory of choking on water or the sensation of it. Earlier, when he stood at the sink, he'd stared at the water running. Mesmerized. Terrified.
Hailey had stayed here the whole night, he realizes, though they've not discussed that or the events of last night or the early hours yet. She'd filled him in about the discovery regarding Helen Flynn's car though and it makes sense to him now that he recognized the figure in the alley hours ago if that person was Flynn. It's another 'If' though to add to the rest.
"You ok?" Hailey asks and Jay glances at her, offering a slight nod, "You any warmer at least? How's the cut on your neck?" she adds, standing up for a moment and pushing the material of Jay's hoodie down for a closer look, "Looks like it reopened, is it sore?".
"Not really and yeah I'm warmer," Jay answers, avoiding the general question about his wellbeing he continues, "We could go back to the old-style wire? As long as I play like I'm drugged but I'm not, I can react quickly enough if they reach for my body at all?"
"Even those wires would probably get blocked, Jay," Hailey points out. She's right, that doesn't mean it's any easier to hear, "How was it? Without the drugs, I mean."
Jay looks straight ahead, avoiding her scrutiny or at least making sure he doesn't see her scrutiny,"It was okay although I think Ryan had a freakout, made a colossal noise about never doing it again."
After a beat, Hailey asks, "Ryan or Jay?"
She doesn't miss a trick. Doesn't miss or forget that this was Jay without the drugs, albeit still Jay undercover.
"Definitely Ryan," he meets her eyes for a moment. Long enough to see she's not convinced, and she's right not to be. At that moment, he'd been terrified. Scared of losing control to the point there'd be no coming back, no going any place other than some veterans' psychiatric center for those who damaged forever.
"Gotta hope that they don't take Ryan seriously."
"Yeah. They need someone to make deliveries at least, so that's something."
"True," Hailey agrees when a message alert sounds on her UC phone and she picks it up and shows it to Jay.
"Huh, so Marcie's back?"
"Yeah, I should go soon, you okay? Are you gonna stay away from deliveries today? Seems like that's the pattern. What they want, I mean."
Jay half-heartedly nods. Today it's the last thing he wants. He needs to occupy his brain. Needs to permanently occupy it so he doesn't spend the entire day finding additional things to remind him of Korengal Valley. Of that entire country.
Her hand on his knee pulls him from those thoughts and he smiles at the warmth in her stare. The concern.
"I could come by when the bar closes or I can ask Marce if I can take off early? Bring take out? Or you could stay at my place? We could talk about everything except the things we should?"
Jay's so sure he'll say yes, right until he opens his mouth, and he replies no, which matches with the slight shake of his head.
He imagines the slight frown, the flicker of disappointment in her eyes because it's not there when he looks deeper at her and she stands up, draining the contents of her mug, setting it back down and putting both the cells in her jean pockets.
"See you tomorrow then. Early. 7.30am he wants to see us."
Without another word, she picks up her jacket and walks out the door. 2 minutes later, Jay's own cell buzzes.
Don't hesitate if you change your mind, ok?
The staring contest with his cellphone and a battle of wills Jay endures for the rest of the day and into the evening to not respond at least distracts him from the lack of communication with Barnet and particularly thoughts of Afghanistan.
Till sleep. The most broken night's sleep of all.