Lucy
Two months later…
"Oh, look who looks normal again," John said as I came out of the locker room.
Jackson laughed.
"Only three showers and a whole bottle of shampoo, but I think I got it all," I replied looking down at my backup uniform to make sure I got it all.
The morning didn't exactly start out like I had hoped.
"7-Adam-19, show us as a 10-80 from our traffic stop," Bradford called into the radio, flipping on the sirens as we started to pursue the suspects. "The vehcile is a dark blue Honda Civic, plates Tango - Charlie - Foxtrot - 2-3-5-4 - Zulu."
I grabbed the handle of the car as the suspects turned off a regular road, and onto an unpaved dirt road. Bradford was keeping up, but the kickback from the dirt and rocks made visibility hard to see.
"Copy, 7-Adam-19," the dispatcher said.
Our shop hit a large pothole, my hand shooting out to the dashboard to steady myself.
"There is no way, their car can withstand these conditions much longer," I commented.
"Agreed," noted Bradford.
Bradford updated our location at the next turn, but only able to give a direction since we were no longer on any documented roads. We managed to find ourselves in the rural part of the county with cows and horses in the distance.
"There! They lost a tire," I called out, seeing the black rubber start to roll away.
"Hold on!" Bradford called, abruptly turning the wheel to move us to the side, pressing down on the gas pedal.
"What next, Boot?" he asked.
"Be ready to go on foot. They are going to bail," I said.
"Good. What will we need?"
"Airship and K9," I answered automatically.
He nodded. "Get ready to call it in."
As we both suspected, the Honda swerved, losing control and running right into a wooden fence on the outside of a farm. Both the driver and the passenger immediately jumped out as Bradford pulled our shop to a halt.
I already had my radio out, as I threw open my door.
"7-Adam-19, be advised, 10-43 on foot, two suspects, Hispanic males in their late twenties, one dressed in black shorts and white shirt, and other in blue jeans and black shirt," I advised into the radio. "Airship, K9, and additional officer assistance is needed."
I released the button on my radio as Bradford and I took off. The suspects had a little away head of us, but they were still in our sights. As the one in the black shorts looked back and saw us catching up, he whistled to his buddy.
"Don't do it," I grunted, pumping my arms to run faster.
I cursed inwardly as they split up, both running in opposite directions as they moved into a wooden terrain.
"I got the one in the jeans," I hollered.
"Boot, wait!"
I turned; leaping over a branch and then another as I continued to pump my arms and legs faster. I inhaled another large breath before exhaling, keep up with the suspect and making ground.
I updated dispatch again, as we ran so when airship and K9 got on scene they could pinpoint our location.
I closed considerable distance, but the suspect knew that too, making sure to take paths where he was jumping over larger fallen trees and soft terrain.
"Stop! Police!" I hollered. "K9 is on scene!" I shouted hoping he would stop.
He didn't.
Bradford's voice came over the radio that his suspect was in custody, only making me pump my arms and legs even more. I was only a shoulder length away from my suspect, when he leaped and then jumped over the next fallen branch. Even though my legs were protesting at this point, I pushed them even farther getting ready to make the leap. I landed the jump, stumbling, but regaining my footing as I continued the pursuit.
I could see light ahead, just as my suspect broke through the trees, and back out into the open space.
"Boot! Stop!"
I did the opposite. There was no way I was going to let my T.O. grab both suspects. I would never hear the end of it.
I pushed; giving every last ounce of energy I had, putting my foot down to take the next step, when my sneaker sunk into a soft, mushy, pile of mud, making me fall right on my face in a pile of wet, sticky, brown mud.
As I lifted my head, I noticed my suspect had made the same fate, just as Bradford walked over with the other suspect already in handcuffs, and securing mine as well.
I managed to push myself up from the mud, my face, hands, and entire uniform covered in wet, smelly, brown liquid. In front of me, Bradford stood, with his arms across his chest, and a smirk on his lips.
I wanted to take out my weapon and shoot him.
"In all fairness, I told you to stop," he gloated.
"You did, sir," I said, the words tasting like acid.
He crouched down on his haunches, as he pulled out his radio. "7-Adam-19, we're code 4, both suspects in custody. Clear channel. And maybe send an extra horse trailer for Officer Chen. She is going to need it."
I gave him a dirty look. "Really? A horse trailer?"
Bradford smiled. "You're not getting in my shop like that." He wrinkled his nose just as a cow wandered by from the damage the suspects did to the fence. "And you smell."
I managed to get back to my feet, trying not to slip again, as I moved away from the mud pile flinging off the dripping goop. As much as I wanted to smack Bradford right now, I did smell, and it was becoming increasingly more uncomfortable being wet.
"How did you know?"
Bradford turned to me. "Another lesson learned, Boot. What do you remember about last night's weather conditions?"
I groaned. "We had tons of unusual rain," I answered begrudgingly.
Before I could even stop him, Bradford already had his phone out, the flash of his camera as he took a picture of me in the most embarrassing fashion possible, smiled, and turned his phone screen towards me.
"Nice, right?"
I scowled. "T.O. or not, I will hurt you if that picture sees the light of day," I threatened.
That just made Bradford's grin go wider. "I'd like to see you try, Boot."
"Yeah, you might not want to look," John said, once I finished my story, both he and Jackson moving in front so I couldn't see the board behind them that housed all of our important announcements and updates.
"Move!" I demanded.
John and Jackson moved based on the look on my face, and there it was, the stupid and humiliating photo of me covered in the mud substance. I was going to kill, Tim Bradford.
I turned, shooting my two friends a death glare at their snickers from seeing the photo.
"Oh, come on," John laughed. "At least for once, it's not me," he said.
"Or me," Jackson added. "Our T.O.s are constantly going on and on about how badass and knowledgeable you are."
"Really?" I asked.
They both broke out into laughter again. "No!"
I punched John in the stomach.
"Yep, I deserved that," he groaned.
"Boot!"
I turned at the sound of Bradford calling my name. He already bore the look of impatience on his face.
"Was I not clear about making it quick," he chastised.
I ignored him and pointed to the photo. "Really?"
He didn't even bother looking at the photo as he kept his eyes on me.
"Incentive, Boot."
I shot him an incredulous look. "Incentive for what?"
"To never make that mistake again. And to remind you of the lesson we discussed earlier," he explained.
"Bradford, Chen, I need you," Grey said as he approached. He looked over at John and Jackson. "If you two don't have anything to do, I can find you plenty to do."
"Nope, we're good," John said, as they scurried away as quickly as they possibly could.
Grey turned back to the both of us. "Do you both remember the suspect you brought in yesterday on a traffic stop, Carl Palmer?"
"Yes, sir. Arrested on suspicion of a 10-29v. Which is what, Boot?" Bradford answered but turning to me for the last part.
If he thought he was going to intimidate me in front of the watch commander, he was mistaken.
"A vehicle wanted," I answered. "Suspicion he was driving a stolen vehicle."
"Very good, Officer Chen," Grey praised. "Anyway, in transport yesterday, Palmer cut his hand. While being attended to by the prison nurse, his DNA was run as customary once we are lucky enough to get a free sample," Grey continued.
"Let me guess, came back with a hit." Bradford guessed.
"More than that," Grey replied, his entire demeanor changing. "I need you two to come with me now. Metro is waiting to review their debriefing with us."
"Metro?" Bradford's interest piqued.
We followed Grey as we moved to the briefing room, over twelve men and women from metro already there waiting.
"You already know, Officer Bradford, this is his rookie, Officer Chen," Grey introduced.
"Officer Chen, I am Lieutenant Pine," she said, extending her hand to me since Bradford already knew who she was.
"Sir," I greeted.
"How can we help?" Bradford asked, as usual, getting down to business.
"Palmer, the suspect you brought in, turns out is wanted on several other cases we had in the system. We just didn't know it until today, because we didn't have DNA to compare it too," she said.
"Carl Palmer is now confirmed as 'The Sleeper,'" Grey supplied.
I balked. "Wait, you're telling me our stolen car suspect is the serial killer known as the 'The Sleeper.'" I asked.
Bradford looked over at me.
"The guy has been linked to eleven murders. All of them usually under the age of eighteen, and they always find them in circumstances where they were kept somewhere and ran out of oxygen, ultimately falling asleep to their death," I said.
"I know," Bradford said.
"Eleven that we knew of, up until an hour ago," Grey informed.
"Wait, there is potentially another victim?" I asked.
"According to Palmer, yes," Lt. Pine said.
"Once we approached him and informed him, we knew of his true identity, he shared that he had just taken a new victim, dropped them at his next undisclosed location and was on his way back to whatever hole he lives in, when you two intercepted him," Grey advised.
"And, what, he wants is to barter his release or limited sentence for the location of the kidnapped victim?" guessed Bradford.
"Not exactly," Pine said. "He knows with eleven confirmed murders with his DNA recovered on each one, that he is going away for life, if not the death penalty. We already have patrols checking any known addresses for possible souvenirs."
It wasn't uncommon that almost every known serial killer liked to keep a souvenir from the victim they killed. It could range from jewelry, hair, and even body parts. In The Sleeper's case, since most of the victims were between the age of twelve and eighteen always with their electronic device missing, that is the suspected souvenir he keeps on each of his victims.
"What does he want then?" Bradford asked.
"You two," Grey answered.
Bradford and I looked at each other in confusion.
"Us, why?" I asked.
"This sick bastard has alluded authorities for the last decade. Careful, methodical, and always one step ahead. If it hadn't been for you two, he would still be on the streets and planning his next move," he answered.
"Appreciate the praise sir, but Officer Chen and I were just lucky we were at the right place at the right time," Bradford said.
"Regardless, Palmer claims he is willing to tell us the location of his latest victim, stating we have a chance to save her, if you meet with him first," explained Grey.
"And do what, exactly?" I asked.
"Palmer claims he wants to ask you questions. He hasn't said anymore and is refusing to meet with any detectives or other metro officers," Pine chimed in.
"We need to know if you're in," Grey added.
Bradford looked at me, but my mouth was already moving. "Of course. Whatever we can do to help," I said.
"Then, let's go," Grey declared.
Tim
"Boot, listen to me. When we walk in there, you let me take the lead and do all the talking," I said, as we passed through the prison security and signed in.
"Yes, sir," I answered.
My hand shot out just before we stopped at the private room the prison had set up for this. I waited until Chen met my gaze.
"I need to know, are you able to handle this?" I asked.
She leveled me with a look. "I don't need protecting," she answered.
I gave her a long look to make sure she was ok, and then accepted her answer with a firm nod. Chen was proving to be one of the strongest officers I had ever trained, but dealing with a serial killer as cunning and methodical as this, was a different story.
The two guards opened the door to another interrogation room, Carl Palmer seated, chained to the table. He leaned forward with excitement, his hands interlocked together resting on top of the table.
"Officer Bradford and Officer Chen, we meet again. Welcome," he said, in a calm and causal voice as if he was welcoming us in his home. He looked as if he was the only person in the room that wanted to be here.
"You asked to see us. What do you want, Palmer?" I asked, cutting right to the chase.
"Now, is that anyway to speak to a criminal mastermind," he said, tilting his head with a deranged look in his eye.
"Tough," I said firmly. "This isn't a social call. We're here and we want answers to the victim you claim to have kidnapped."
Carl's eyes flashed with a menacing gleam. "It isn't a claim," he said evenly.
"Why did you want to see Officer Bradford and me?" Chen asked.
I looked over at my shoulder at her, the silent reminder that I was supposed to handle all the talking, but like usual, she defied me when she could.
Carl's smile returned, unclasping his hand to point at Chen. "Now, you I like. I'll talk to you."
His tone and voice turned softer and warmer, and the only thing I could imagine was this was the exact way he spoke to his victims to get them to trust him and let their guard down so he could take them.
Chen stepped forward, pulling out the chair and sitting down. We were going to have a long talk the moment we got out of the prison about her being quiet and letting me handle things when I tell her I will.
"Alright, then let's talk. What's the name of the victim?"
"Eh, eh, eh, not yet Officer Chen." He leaned back casually in his chair. "You see, this is probably the last time I am going to get any real conversation before they throw me in solitary confinement. I want to make the most of it," he said.
"We aren't here to play your stupid games. Tell us where the victim is," I exclaimed.
Carl turned his head, in the same manner that I remembered the Chucky doll did in the movies, to scare the living hell out of you in a jump scare, shooting me an icy stare.
"She has time. But if you keep pushing me, you won't get anything at all," he said.
"This is a waste of time. You're just playing with us. I bet there isn't even a victim alive to save," I coaxed.
Carl wasn't falling for it. "Clever," he grinned. He scooted his chair back and crossed his legs casually at the ankles as if we were having afternoon tea together. "But, how about this, in good faith I will give you this. Florence and Central Avenue, apartment 310," he said.
"Is that where you are keeping her?" Chen asked.
Carl turned that predatory look on Chen, my hands clenching into fists. "No, Officer Chen. It's where I found her," he corrected. "Have your lap dogs check. They should find that that someone is missing."
I pulled my cell phone from my pocket, dialing Grey and giving him the information. Grey advised they would look into right away and call us back.
"Now, you owe me something," he said.
"No," I said simply.
Chen looked over at me, her eyes pleading with me to give her a chance. She seemed to believe that she was going to be able to talk sense to this guy and get answers, but the truth was, killers like him, it was never truths and only had you chasing tails just to further their sick game.
I sighed; and nodded at her to proceed. Carl thought he held all the cards in this, I had no problem playing mind games myself and let him continue to think that.
"What is it you want?" Chen asked.
Carl pressed his lips together, his stare turning more towards a leer at Chen. "You really are very pretty, Officer Chen," he commented. He sucked in his bottom lip, his eyes sparkling. "About ten years younger, and I would have been extremely interested in you."
A growl rumbled through my chest in warning. The quirk of Carl's lips told me he understood my warning. No one was going to threaten my Boots life unless it was me.
Chen's next words were spoken evenly. "I am not scared of you, Carl. I am also not interested in your mind games. You said you wanted something. Was it you wanted?"
He crossed his hands in his lap again. "What made you suspect me?"
"Truthfully, the fact that you were driving with your overhead light on even though you appeared to know exactly what and where you were going," she answered.
Well, that and he had no seatbelt on and driving a little slower than the speed limit for that area at that time of day, but I wasn't going to step in at this point.
"Half truths, Officer Chen, half truths." He uncrossed his legs and scooted closer into the table, resting his hands on top. "If you lie to me, Officer Chen, I shall do the same."
She didn't even bat an eye. "Lucky for you then, that I didn't lie."
Carl chuckled. "You're quite fascinating."
My phone in my pocket rang, stopping the conversation as I picked it up. "Bradford? Yes. Ok, thank you. I'll let you know," I said before hanging up.
"Well, Officer Bradford, do you believe me now?" Carl asked even though his eyes were still squarely on Chen.
Chen looked over at me. "The Botello's reported their seventeen old daughter, Carina Botello missing this morning. They said she didn't come home after going to see a movie with her best friend last night," I confirmed.
"Where is she?" Chen asked.
"Not yet, but I will tell you the location is quite exquisite at night when the moonlight strikes the ripples."
"Water," Chen and I said in unison.
I grabbed my phone back and dialed Grey to give him the information. We knew Carina's name and we knew the time she would have gone missing. All we had to do now was start to eliminate distance for how many places he could have taken Carina between when she was last spotted and when Chen and I pulled him over.
"Why did you want to be a cop?" Carl asked Chen.
I knew deep down that Chen wanted to help people, but I also knew the bigger reason she initially joined.
"To spite my parents," she said truthfully.
Carl grinned gleefully as if he just saw his favorite celebrity walk through the door. The man was sick with a capital 'S.'
"Delicious," he commented.
"Beach, ocean, or other body of water?" Chen asked.
Carl smiled. "Ocean." He angled his head to the side again. "Have you ever thought about what it would be like to kill someone? I do. Every day," he said excitedly.
Chen's expression turned to one of disgust. "I don't want to kill anyone," she said.
His brows shot up. "Even me?"
"How much time does she have left?" Chen asked, ignoring his question.
He licked his lips. "Twelve hours, give or take," he said nonchalantly.
"Even me, Officer Chen?" Carl repeated. "Tell me. Tell me…after everything I know you have read about me, about how my victims die, and knowing there is one out there right now that you might not save, you still don't want to kill me?"
The muscle in her jaw clenched. I wanted to kill the bastard. He should ask me that question.
"Even then," she answered. "I am no one's judge, jury, or executioner."
"Ah, so noble," he cooed, before looking at me. "Not this one. He reeks of death. A hint of darkness."
"I can only imagine how popular your little party tricks are at parties," I remarked deadpan.
His predatory smile returned. "Doesn't make it any less true."
I slammed my palms down on the table. "Enough. We came, and we played your little game. Now, tell us the rest of the information, or I will show you just how dark I can get and will make sure you see the death penalty in the worst possible manner," I threatened.
That only made the sick bastard smile more. "You think death terrifies me? I relish in it. I am its gatekeeper. This was always the end game, Officer Bradford." He opened his wrists with the cuffs. "Please, go ahead and give me what I want."
"I don't believe that," Chen interrupted, pulling Carl's attention back to her. "A part of you, it wants Carina to be found."
"Or maybe I just can't wait for you to come back and tell me she is number twelve," he countered.
That was more believable.
Chen smiled. "No, this is a game to you. As you said, you're the gatekeeper. You love orchestrating everything and watching your plan go into motion. You love the chase, but more than anything, you love the idea that no one is smart enough to beat you and your game," she guessed.
It was the first time his careful mask slipped, his eyes shinning. "They haven't yet," he boasted.
Chen smiled. "Officer Bradford and I can, and that's what scares you. We captured you, and we took it all away. The planning, the chase, the kill. It's why your first question was how we got you." His body went rigid. "You want confirmation that our arresting you was a fluke and not because Officer Bradford and I are smarter than you." She leaned in, her voice hypnotizing and alluring. "So, let's play your game, Carl. I want to prove to you that you are just as average as everyone else."
Carl slammed his fist on the table. "I am not average!" he shouted.
"Then prove me wrong," she repeated. "Let us play your game."
His eyes narrowed. "You don't think I know you are trying to play me?"
"I don't think you care," she responded. "You want us to play. Officer Bradford and I are willing, so let's play the game," she pushed.
Just like that, Carl relaxed, his predatory smile returning. "Ok, Officer Chen. Here are the rules to the game," he said, looking between the both of us. "It is only a two player game. You and Officer Bradford," he continued, pointing from Chen to me. "You bring back up and she dies. And if you think I don't have the failsafe to do it, even in here, you would be wrong."
Which means the bastard somehow has a partner that helps him. As soon as we were out of here, I would tell Grey to pull every correspondence since he was booked to see if he got a message out.
Chen looked over at me and I nodded.
"Deal," said Chen.
"Answer me this, Officer Chen. Where is such a place that is industrial and also has access to water. A place with so much activity that no one would even glance or bat an eye and loading large and heavy goods?"
I thought through his clues, and what we knew thus far. Chen and I looked at each other at the exact same moment, our expressions indicated we figured it out.
"The barge," we said in unison.
Chen scooted back her chair, standing immediately.
"Happy hunting, Officers," he said teasingly as he waved slowly. "I sure do hope we meet again," he added.
I pounded on the door with my fist, the buzzer sounding as Chen, and I left the room.
Outside, Grey was already there with a dozen of Metro officers and SWAT.
"We're suited up and ready to go," Grey announced.
"You can't," I said once we came to a stop. "The only way, according to Palmer, that we can attempt to save Carina is if Officer Chen and I go, without backup."
"That's crazy. You can't go without backup. Who knows what kind of deranged traps he might have waiting," said Grey.
"I am inclined to agree," added Pine.
"It doesn't matter," Chen spoke up. "Even from behind bars, he is still running the show. It's his game, something he has planned and secured for at least a year if his history and his past murders rings true. He is going to have ways, surveillance, traps, you name it."
Grey's expression turned disgruntled. "Look, I can't ask you to do that, and I am not ok with you two going without backup, but if you are telling me that is the only way we have a shot at saving this girl, then the decision is yours," he said, looking directly at me.
Chen and I looked at each other, both of our gazes in agreement. "We're in," I said.
"Then let's get you geared up and ready to go," Pine said.
After we were fitted with communications, camera's, tactical gear, and several weapons, Chen and I made our way to the SUV where Grey and Pine were waiting.
"We will follow behind, and await your instructions to move in. There are over hundreds of storage containers on site. Did he give you anything that will help you narrow it down?" Grey asked.
Chen and I looked at the map. "We would start with the ones that are closest to the water since he mentioned you could see moonlight on the ripples," said Chen.
"He would also want as much privacy as possible, so I suggest we start at the northeast end that practically doesn't have any vantage point across the way and give him plenty of obscurity. "
Pine plugged in the information on the map on the screen, giving us about one hundred storage containers still left to work with."
"He would need easy access , right?" Chen asked.
"Good," I praised. "Let's remove all containers that you would need a ladder or lift in order to open or bring down."
The mapped beeped. "That takes us down to fifty. Still a decent amount," remarked Grey.
"Palmer said we had twelve to eighteen hours. Officer Chen and I will have to make the search quick," I said.
"Let's round up and get going," Grey declared.
The ride in the SUV on the way over was quiet and tense. Chen kept looking from the window back to me and then back to the window as we pulled away from the residential and metro area towards the outskirts of the industrial area.
"Your still good. About doing this?" I asked.
"Of course. You don't need to hold my hand," she said.
"That's not what I meant." I paused, as I made the next turn, the industrial park only a few blocks now. "What we mentioned earlier, we know there will be traps and other things, but you need to prepare yourself that it is very likely that Carina might already be dead."
Chen licked her lips, looking down at her lap. "Yeah. I know."
I drove the SUV to the northeast corner of the lot, to the exact spot of the park we had outlined on the map.
"Here we go," I announced.
I secured the strap of my riffle over my head, Chen doing the same as we started on the outer edge and worked our way in. We fell into a rhythm, Chen using the bolt cutter to cut the lock and open the container as I went in first, Chen covering my six.
We were panting from the running, sweating from the unbearable heat and weight of our gear, but we kept pushing as we reached about the twenty-fifth of the fifty containers.
Grey and Pine were seeing all of our movements from our body camera's, ready to storm in once we gave the notification.
Chen cut the lock, opening the shipping container, as I switched to my pistol, my other hand crossing over my weapon to shine the light into the dark space.
"Chen," I announced, as she moved in step with me.
This was the first container that wasn't packed floor to ceiling with pallets. Only two were towards the front, blocking our view from the back.
I held up my hand, my pointer finger pointing towards the back and signaling for her to take the position to watch my six as I advanced further.
Once I rounded the pallet to move towards the back, Chen followed, but outside of a couple of discarded moving blankets, the rest of the shipping container was empty.
I exhaled; frustrated, when we both heard the large bang, my hand instinctively reaching out to grab Chen and pull us to a squat as close to the floor as possible.
"What was that?" Chen whispered.
"Off—Br—do—y—co?"
Grey's voice came across static on the radio. I pushed to my feet, my pistol drawn as I moved back towards the front of the container, when the last bit of light started to dwindle.
"No!" I exclaimed, as the two container doors shut loudly, the sound of the bolt being locked into place with another click immediately after.
Chen was at my side, as I pushed my gun aside, grunting, as I tried to jimmy the handle and open the doors to no avail.
"It's Bradford, do you copy?" I said into my radio, but got nothing but static.
Chen's eyes were wide. "Look," she said, her eyes angling upwards as her head pointed in the direction of the corner of the shipping container.
There in the right side of the container was a small black camera with a blinking red light. My jaw clenched as I looked at the thing, and what I had feared most. A trap Palmer had sent to lure us here. It was why he wanted Chen and I to come alone. This was all part of his game.
I pulled out my pistol and aimed it at the camera.
"No, don't!" Chen cried, putting her hand on my arm to stop me.
"I am not going to let that sick bastard watch us for his entertainment," I said.
"If you mess with it, he could kill Carina, and if you miss, the bullet could ricochet and hurt one of us," she reasoned.
"You really think I am going to miss?" I asked a little offended.
"Just leave it for now," she said. "This is Officer Chen, do you copy?"
Chen's radio was also met with static silence.
"I think it's safe to say whatever that first bang was, it knocked out our only communications," I said.
Chen let out a loud breath. "So, we are trapped in a mental container, no communications, no food, and no water. That can't be good," she commented.
I met her gaze. "No, it's not." I had to get her focused on something else. "Come on, let's see if we can find anything to use as leverage to open the door."
"These are airtight steal doors," she said. "The only way we are getting out is if that bolt is unlocked."
"Not helping, Officer Chen. Let's just look."
Chen went towards the back to the pile of moving blankets, pulling each one aside to see if there was anything hidden underneath. I moved to the two crates, pulling out my tactical knife from my vest, cutting away the plastic wrap until I opened the first box in the crate. As I tore open the box, it was nothing but car air filters. I abandoned the first crate moving to the second, repeating my steps only to find the crate carried windshield wiper fluid.
"Anything?" Chen asked.
I threw the box back down. "Nothing," I answered. "What about you?"
She shook her head. "Just blankets. I couldn't find anything useful for the doors."
I schooled my expression, even though we were both smart enough to know that our situation was not currently a good one. Trapped in a shipping container with no backup or communications to pinpoint our exact location. We just had to hope that they were already in movement. Our last transition should be enough to show where we had left off.
I stormed back to the door, examining the entire contents of its structure, Chen coming to my side to do the same. I lifted my hands, tracing the entire track and lock, cursing inwardly that Chen was right. This door wasn't opening without a blast or the bolt giving away.
Chen reached for the baton on her hip, extending it as she looked at me. "Think we could use this?" she asked.
I grabbed mine, both of us going to our side of the door to see if we could Jimmy the lock, but no such luck. My arm came up to wipe at the sweat starting to drip from my forehead into my eyes.
"It's not working," Chen's exasperated response came, rubbing at her arms as she lowered her baton back to her side.
I grunted one more time, but Chen was right. It wasn't budging. All we managed to do was dent our baton's and add scratches to the door.
"What do we do?" Chen asked, trying to hide the fact that she was starting to panic.
"We have—"
My response was cut off but the sudden jolt of the container, Chen immediately getting thrown to the ground while I stumbled into the side of the container, my shoulder jamming into the metal.
"What the hell was that?" Chen asked, still on her hands and knees, attempting to stop herself from sliding as the container moved.
I looked up, noticing a metal pipe that ran all across the sides of the rectangular container, mostly used to help secure pallets during a long journey at sea, and grabbed hold with one hand and reaching out my other to Chen.
"Take my hand," I yelled.
Chen crawled on her hands and knees, but the moving made her slide. She was headed right towards the pallet, the motion going to cause her to smack into it hard and possibly cause the now unsecured content fall right on top of her.
"Lucy!"
She reached out her hand, as I grimaced, reaching as far as I could until the tips of our fingers met, enough for me to curl my fingers around her wrist and grunt as the muscles in my arm started to pull her towards me.
Chen grabbed hold of my leg, finally getting some traction as she pushed to her feet. My free hand grabbed hold of her vest, pulling her all the way up. I wrapped my free arm around her waist, pulling her to me, since she was too small to be able to reach the bar.
"What is happening?" she yelled over the noise.
"We're moving," I shouted back.
A moment later, the container stopped, a scream tearing through Chen's lips as we felt a free fall drop in our stomachs before a loud bang as the container landed on something solid.
For a few minutes, nothing else could be heard but the panting of our own breathing. We waited another couple of seconds to make sure we didn't start moving again, before I released Chen, and let go of the bar.
Chen looked around the container and then back at me, registering exactly what I had just come to the realization too.
"Does it feel like we are still moving?" she asked.
I swallowed and nodded. "Yes."
Her expression turned pensive. "I don't think backup is coming," she said dejectedly.
"Hey." She looked away from me. "Chen, look at me." I could tell she was trying to keep it together, but the fact of the matter was, our situation was not good. "We are going to get out of this," I promised, once her eyes met mine.
She nodded, but a part of me could see for the first time since we had been paired together, she didn't really believe it.
She tried to slow her breathing as she looked around the container, boxes of air filter's slew throughout the floor.
"Um, ok, what do we do now?" she asked.
I needed to keep her focused so she didn't get into a headspace that would do nothing to help us. It's exactly what Palmer would be aiming for having set this entire thing up. It shouldn't surprise me that he would a contingency plan should he have gotten caught.
"Ok, we need to slow our movements to conserve energy and oxygen," I said calmly.
I could sense the alarm in Chen's eyes at the severity of my words. We were trapped in a metal box with no air circulation and the heat of a California day ready to descend upon us. It was about to get extremely uncomfortable in here.
"We need to take off all our weapons and gear," I instructed.
Chen nodded. "Right. Ok."
"Nice and slow," I reminded her.
We each moved slowly and methodically, as we removed all of our weapons first and then our addition bulletproof vest, setting everything to the side.
"It's hot in here," Chen commented, wiping another palm of sweat from her forehead.
Her hair, even pulled back in a bun, looked as if she had just gotten out of the shower and put it up. I had sweat dripping down my temples and back practically soaking my shirt.
"We need to lose our uniform and vest underneath too," I said.
Chen looked at me for a moment, before she slowly nodded. We both unbuttoned our uniform top, and then removed our vest underneath, our slick white shirts remaining. She hesitated when she got to her pants belt buckle, as she glanced over at me, but I already had mine unbuckled and shoved down my legs until only my boxers and undershirt remained. Even then the container still felt as if we were sitting in a broiler room.
I averted my eyes, once Chen shoved her pants down her legs, but not before I caught a glance at the slim black board shorts she wore that showed off her toned legs. The clunk of her belt, told me she had tossed her pants on top of the rest of the pile on her clothes.
"What do we do now?" she asked.
When I turned back, I made considerable effort to keep my eyes above her waist and keep eye contact.
"You're not going to like it," I said.
"What?"
"We wait," I answered.
She grimaced. "You're right. I don't like it."
"We have to conserve our energy," I said. "By my guess, it won't be long before we start reaching the level of concern of dehydration."
I moved towards the front of the container, enough that should there be additional movement, we would be out of range from the pallets falling on us, and in view of the camera. I flattened my back against the metal of the container and slid down to my butt, extending both my legs out.
Chen echoed my movements, using the side of the container for balance as she reached my side and slid to the ground our legs mere inches from touching.
"How bad is it?" she asked.
I had made a promise to her on our first shift that as partners we would never lie to each other, and I didn't plan on starting now. I was going to turn it into teaching opportunity.
"Run it down for me," I said.
Chen looked around the room. "Couple of variables," she started. "Obvious by the heat we are facing two obstacles there. Heat exhaustion and dehydration," she continued. "On top of that, we have no air circulation, so as time goes by, without new air…we…we slowly suffocate to death." She glanced back at me. "If by some miracle we make it through all of that, starvation," she added.
"But we're not going to worry about that, because Grey and Pine are working right now to find a way to get to us," I reminded.
She gave me a sad smile. "I appreciate your optimistic attitude, but I am a bit of realist too. How long do we have?" she asked.
I met her gaze. "Twenty-four hours, if that," I answered truthfully.
She nodded. "Not how I pictured my day going," she rebutted, attempting to make light of the situation.
I smiled. "Yeah, I didn't have trapped in a shipping container with you, Boot, on my bingo card either," I said.
That got a first real smile out of her, which felt like an actual accomplishment from the current hell we were going through.
She glanced around the room, her eyes stopping on the camera. "Do you think it is even recording anything? Can they hear us?"
I followed the direction of her line of sight to the camera. "I doubt they can hear anything. Palmer wouldn't want us to give any clues away," I answered.
"You're probably right," she agreed looking around the small closure. "Ok, then we need to do something else to take my mind off of the heat and the fact that there is nothing we can do but possibly await our death," she said.
I leveled her with a look. "We're not going to die," I reminded her.
"Well, I can't sit here for the next twenty-four hours in silence either," she said.
"So, your idea is to drag me into mindless conversation before we die?" I asked.
She grinned. "I thought we weren't going to die?"
We stared at each other for a moment, before I let out an exhale. "Fine," I grumbled.
"I have an idea."
"Of course you do," I replied sarcastically.
She shoved me on the shoulder. "Let's play five questions. Five questions that is no holds bar, can ask each other anything, and we have to promise to answer truthfully."
She could tell the look on my face was already against the idea. "I don't allow personal talk in my shop, what makes you think I will want to do it here?"
"It's either that or listen to me sing straight until we either are rescued or die," she countered.
"That's not doing our best to conserve oxygen," I protested.
"Come on," she whined.
I sighed. As much as I was against it and the idea of getting stuck answering any personal question, we needed something to do to pass the time.
"Besides, if we die, you don't have to worry about whatever it is you shared with me," she added.
"Chen…"
"Okay, okay. How about this, if you agree, you won't hear another word of doom or gloom from my mouth," she promised, holding out her hand.
I rolled my eyes, but didn't shake her hand. "Fine. Ladies first."
She clapped her hands together, rubbing them back and forth as she spent her time thinking long and hard on what five questions she wanted to ask me.
"Let's see…" she drawled out.
"Chen…" I warned.
"Fine. I am not going to lie that I was surprised by your comments in my first thirty day evaluation," she began. "You said that I was tenacious, with strong critical thinking skills and an acute awareness."
"I know what I wrote, Chen. I am not hearing a question," I said.
She grunted. "Alright, Officer Bradford, my first question to you that I want an answer to, is who is the best Boot you have ever trained?"
I looked straight ahead, thinking about all of the Boots over the years, including some of the ones that have moved on to other divisions such as detective or robbery.
"I have only been training you for three months, Chen, if you are looking for a specific answer, it might not be fair," I warned.
"It's not like I am expecting you to say my name anyway," she rebutted. "Come on, we agreed to answering any question and truthfully, so stop trying to avoid the question."
"And when we get out of here, we never bring up this conversation or anything we talk about here again," I added to the deal.
"Agreed. If we make it out of here," she said.
"When," I said more forcefully.
She smiled. "Deal. Now spill."
I exhaled, as I closed my eyes and looked up to the ceiling. "Boot, this better not go to your head, and I better never hear this cross your lips, but you're probably the best I have ever trained," I admitted.
I opened my eyes to look over at her, her mouth visibly dropped open as she glanced back at me. "Really?"
"I don't lie, Boot. And I am a little offended that you would think I would."
"But…but you just said it's only been three months," she stammered.
"Yeah. Like I said in your review, you have this awareness and even an ability to think on your feet and adapt in some of the most hostile circumstances. You can spend years with a Boot and sometimes they would never learn that skill and just be ticket cops."
"Wow…"
The surprise and the fact that she was speechless—which she almost never is—was starting to make me regret playing this game.
"Um, thanks," she finally said after the shock wore off.
"Don't thank me for being you," he said. "Just don't let it go to your head."
She chuckled. "True Bradford fashion, I promise I won't. Your turn," she promoted.
Truthfully, I wasn't at all excited about playing this game, but after hearing her first question, I was starting to see that I might also be able to use my five questions to my advantage.
"Why did you want to spite your parents by becoming a cop?" I asked, actually intrigued when I had learned this fact in the first month we rode together.
She sighed. "Because they always were against anything that was dangerous or exciting. They felt the only career that was rewarding was being a psychologist, and they expected me to follow."
"I can't really ever see you being happy as a psychologist," I commented.
She laughed. "No, I would die a little each day," she agreed. "I know they say talking about your feelings is healthy, but by the time I became a teenager, I would rather poke my eye out with a knife than talk about my feelings." She paused, letting out a long breath as she wiped a bead of sweet from the thigh of her leg. "So, I picked the one career that I knew was dangerous and in some cases used more force than words. What started as a rebellious choice, turned into the best decision I ever made. I love my job, which I think makes them even more mad that I really owe it to them for pushing me towards law enforcement," she said.
"Remind me to thank them one of these days," I said.
She smiled. "If you can put up with my parents for even a couple of hours, you might not be human," she joked.
"Please, I'm Tim Bradford," all parents loved me.
She rolled her eyes. "Ok, my turn," she declared. "All of these Tim tests. Where did they come from? How did they start?"
I had figured there was the risk that this game could lead us down the path of getting into some really personal questions, and Chen wasn't holding back. The worst part was, we both promised to be completely honest, so there was no deflecting or sharing limited truths here. Lopez, being my best friend, and my ex-wife Isabel were the only two that knew the extent of my past.
"My childhood wasn't the greatest," I admitted.
Chen's gaze turned towards me as she listened intently.
"My father was a drunk, but even when he wasn't drunk, he was just an angry person. A part of me thinks he never really wanted to have kids had it not been for my mother." I licked my lips, starring straight ahead at some of the air filters that were sprawled on the container floor.
"Was he ever violent?" Chen asked hesitantly.
"Yeah," I answered, hearing my own detached tone.
I tried to block out a lot of my childhood, making a promise to myself that I would never be anything like him.
"Thankfully, he never laid a hand on my sister, Gennifer, which means I got double the beatings. Said it was for my own good. A true and only way to make me a man," I answered. I turned to look at her. "Anyway, my childhood and then even my time in the military teached me to be tough and strict. Having boundaries and rules make it so you learn how to survive and stay alive in spite of the circumstances you are dealt with.
"That's a little sad," Chen remarked. "It doesn't sound like you had an opportunity to just be a kid."
I shrugged. "It wasn't all bad. Gennifer, my mom, and I had good times together."
"Your Tim tests, it sounds like you use them as reminders to not be like your dad," she guessed.
"Don't psyscho analyze me, Chen," I warned.
She smiled. "Sorry, hard not too sometimes when you have psychologists as parents."
"You're right," I admitted a moment later. "Part of the tests are to remind myself not to be like him, but the other part is to show you the shortcomings we have has an officer as well open your eyes to reality, our own personal natures at an extreme level, can impact us and can cause traits that as cops we cannot afford to have in some situations," I said.
"I know I haven't met your father, and if I did, I know I would have some choice words for him, but there is one thing I do know, you're nothing like him," she said adamantly.
"You've only been my Boot for three months, Chen, you haven't even faced the toughest lessons I have to teach you," I warned.
"Even then," she replied not backing down. "Besides, I already have you figured out."
I raised a brow. "Oh?"
"Despite all your toughness, and walls you built around you and project, you're a big softie underneath," she said.
"Is that so?" I asked with a hint of teasing but also a warning. "Then apparently I have been too easy on you."
I could see the moment Chen regretted divulging her assessment on me.
"Forget I said anything," she said quickly.
"Too late," I replied.
She groaned.
"My turn," I declared, getting us back to her little game. "Were you disappointed that I was assigned as your T.O. and if you could pick another, who would it be?" I asked.
"Oh, that's easy," she said, my eyes traveling to her bare legs as she crossed her left leg over her ankle. I averted my gaze to straight ahead. "No, I was not disappointed when you were assigned as my T.O. Confession time, I may have did a bit of research on each of you when I learned we could be assigned to you."
"Yeah, and what did you learned?" I asked intrigued.
She smiled. "We'll, it was unanimous that if your Boots didn't have to ever ride with you again, they would be happy, but at the same time respect the hell out of you. Said they learned a lot from you. Even if your methods were less than desired," she said.
"You wanted to quit after our first shift, didn't you?" I asked.
"That's another question, but I'll give you this freebie since you answered mine." She picked at a piece of fuzz underneath the moving blanket we were sitting on top of. "No. I won't lie there were a few times I really wanted to smack you, but…I don't know. I think your hardness balances out with my obvious and sometimes to lenient with people because I want to see the good in them."
"It's not a weakness, Chen. It's admirable, you just have to make sure it doesn't cloud your judgment or let people take advantage of you," I said.
She chuckled. "That might be the first nice thing you've ever said to me."
I shook my head. "I have said plenty of nice things when you've earned it."
She just sat there was a knowing smile.
"Ok, my turn. Do you still love Isabel?" she asked hesitantly.
I don't know why that question seem to surprise me. After the incident at the motel, we never spoke about the incident with Isabel. I had just suspected that the entire situation had been put to rest. I should have anticipated this game of hers would open pandora's box.
"Loving someone and being in love with them is two different things," I answered evasively.
Leave it to Chen for that answer not to be enough. "Which one are you?"
I exhaled. "I will always love my wife, but no, I am not in love with her anymore. I don't even know who she is anymore. She isn't the Isabel that was my partner at work and in life," I confessed sadly.
"I'm sorry," she replied sympathetically. "I just didn't know, since it seems you still refer to her as if she is still your wife."
I thought about her words and replayed my words in my mind. I had said 'my wife' instead of using past tense. For the first six months, I did everything I could to try and make her see reason and bring her home. By the ninth month, I had seen how the drugs and that lifestyle had sunk their claws in deep, and realized she would most likely never come home. It was then, after her first O.D. I had the papers drafted up.
I didn't want them, and I sure as hell didn't want our marriage to end, but it was clear it already had. It was clear, Isabel wanted that life over the one we had built together. That realization used to feel like a knife to the chest, but recently the pain wasn't as gut wrenching as it had once been.
By month eleventh and Isabel's third O.D., I knew I couldn't keep living that way. I couldn't keep finding her that way. I always suspected that I would find her body in a dumpster someday, but I couldn't keep trying to fight for something—someone—that didn't even want to fight for me.
Before she left the hospital after third overdose, I presented the papers to Isabel. I hadn't expected her to be that shocked by my action, but then she had quickly recovered and uttered it has been about time, scribbled her signature and walked out of my life.
I hadn't seen her again for almost whole year, until recently with Chen at the motel. I wasn't prepared for all of the emotions that struck me that day after not seeing her for so long. Now, when I saw her, I just felt sadness. Sadness for the life Isabel chose, and sadness, for the once happy life we led together.
"I will always care about her," I said.
"Of course," Chen agreed immediately.
"I have come to terms with the fact that there are things in life that just can't go back to the way they used to be," I said.
Chen looked down at her lap. "Would you go back if you could?"
I really wish I had beer right now. "I believe that we are all where we should be," I said with a finality.
It was quiet for a moment outside of the couple of creaks and groans from the metal container we were sitting in. We had to be in heat of the day, the container growing far stuffier and hotter outside of the blanket we were sitting on.
"What would you have done if you were in my position with Isabel?" I asked as my next question.
She thought about my question for a moment. "Promise not to laugh at me?"
My brows furrowed together. I wasn't sure how my question could elicit some response from her that would be laughable but now I was more intrigued.
"No," I said in teasing fashion.
"One thing I am certain of having seen you with Isabel and the way you talk about her, I have never loved someone as much as you loved her," she admitted.
"You will someday," I assured.
She smiled. "I hope." Her hands rested on her thighs. "As what I would have done in your situation…I think walking away was the only thing you could do. She needs help, but only she can be the one to decide it."
"Yeah," I sighed.
"Were you hoping for a different rookie?" she asked.
I had hoped the 'ask me a serious' question look I gave her was enough, but the fact that she sat there patiently waiting, told me she actually thought I wished to have been paired with someone else.
"What…you, Depends, or Gun Shy," I remarked.
She shoved my shoulder. "Be nice. They're good cops."
"Yeah, you are good cops," I relented. "Even Depends." She shoved me again. "I am glad your my partner, Boot. And if you tell anyone what I have said…"
"I would never," she said seriously. She turned to face me. "I hope you know that. I would never betray your trust and share anything we have talked about."
I met her gaze, studying her for a moment, before I nodded in agreement. "I know, Boot. Thanks."
"Guess that means you're up," she said.
"Where do you want to be after your time with me as a rookie ends?" I asked.
She thought about that for a moment and then exhaled. "I want to be the best patrol cop, one can be, but…" she hesitated as she looked at me, my brow raising at her to continue. I understood why she hesitated at her next words. "I really find U.C. work fascinating. I think—no I know—I would be good at it."
I could see she was worried about my response, especially after I had just shared with her everything I had about my past with Isabel. Not all undercover work meant she had to be in narcotics, but undercover work meant you had to change your persona and everything you are to become what you needed to be.
Chen was strong and smart, but I was worried that her soft and empathetic ways might be a huge detriment to U.C. work.
"It's not an easy job," I said carefully.
"I know," she agreed. "I also know that with your history with Isabel, how you might feel with someone wanting to do that kind of work."
"You're not Isabel, Lucy," I said seriously.
"Doesn't change the fact that you might think it's a mistake to consider for a career choice," she replied.
"Don't presume to know what I think," I said, the topic of conversation starting to put me on edge.
I was serious that Chen isn't anything like Isabel. Sure, they are both strong, but Chen has this sense of belonging that Isabel didn't ever have, even when she was on patrol. Isabel liked her work, but still looked at it like a job. Chen, she lived and breathed for the work, which meant I know she would give it her all and take it seriously. I was sure she would excel no matter what she did.
"You don't need my approval, Chen," I said.
"No, you're right," she agreed. "But I value your opinion."
I pressed my lips together. "I think you still have a lot to learn. But, I think if U.C. work is really what you want to do, you would be successful at it no matter what. Something tells me you don't know how to fail."
The corners of her mouth quirked upwards, and I feared I was setting her up too much for down the road instead of focusing on the here and now.
"Thanks," she said. "Means a lot coming from the great Tim Bradford, T.O. extraordinaire."
"Flattery knocks points off for me," I warned.
She laughed. "Fair enough. Ok, my final question, why are you still on patrol?"
I glanced at her puzzled and even a little affronted. "Is there something wrong with patrol?"
"No, no," she said quickly. "I know and can see how much you love patrol…it's just, with your military background and your success record as T.O. you are clearly destined for more. I'm just curious, that's all."
Her question wasn't accusatory or even a slight at patrol, but I couldn't help but be transported back to the time that Isabel and I had a fight over this very topic.
Isabel had been accepted into U.C. work and had finished her month at the academy and was excited to come back and go on her first assignment. At first, she thought it would be great if we left patrol together and did U.C., but when she saw I didn't really have a passion for that kind of work, she instantly wanted to change me and push me into something I wasn't interested in.
"I genuinely love patrol work. It's where the most action is. It's where I think we can make the most impact," I explained. "What I do being your T.O. it's one of the most important and rewarding things I have ever done in my life. Seeing what you can become and knowing I had hand in shaping you for that role, it's what drives me."
She looked at me with this new look of respect. "I never really thought of it that way," she said sincerely.
"Not a lot of people do," I commented.
"I still think you would be awesome in metro, if you ever did consider making a change."
"Metro? Why metro?"
She shrugged. "Between your military experience, leadership, and time in patrol, your just built to lead the gap between the two. You're one of the only one that understands the importance of the two and how they work together."
"Hmph. I never thought of it that way," I mused.
"Maybe you should," she encouraged.
I nodded. "Maybe I should," I echoed. "Alright, my last question. What are you really feeling right now?"
She pressed her lips together and swallowed slowly, refusing to meet my gaze. She attempted to hide her sniffle and I instantly regretted my question.
"I'm scared," she admitted softly.
I wasn't good at comforting anyone for that matter, but the truth was, we had been in this metal can for hours, the heat was getting worse to where I already knew I was in the beginning stages of dehydration. At this point, I wasn't sure if there would be enough clues to find us, before we had lost video and communications.
I don't know what caused me to reach out, but my left hand searched for her right one next to my thigh, grabbing hold of her hand. She jumped for a moment, before she interlocked her fingers with mine and squeezed back, our hands falling to our sides.
"We are going to make it through this," I said.
She squeezed my hand in response.
Hours must've passed, my internal alarm jolting my eyes open, my head still leaning against the back of the shipping container. The room felt even more degrees hotter than the last time, the air thick and stale.
I looked over to my left, Chen's chin dipped to her shoulder, her eyes closed. I squeezed her hand since our hands were still interlocked, but her eyes did not open.
I angled my body, bringing my right arm over to shake her shoulder. "Chen. Chen!" She didn't stir. I shook her shoulder more forcefully. "Lucy!"
She stirred and moaned. "Hmm, turn down the heat, will you? It's stuffy in here," she said, nuzzling closer into my shoulder.
This wasn't good. She was showing signs of delirium brought upon from the dehydration.
"Wake up!" I demanded.
Chen's eyes fluttered, before they opened, blinking a few times as she tried to clear the confusion away. She raised her head, letting go of my hands as she wiped at her eyes, another swipe of sweat from her forehead.
"How long was I out?" she asked.
"I don't know. I nodded off too," I admitted. "We can't sleep," I reminded her.
She pushed herself back to sitting up again. "You're right," she agreed, her voice sounding groggily. "How long has it been?"
"At least ten hours," I answered.
"So, roughly fourteen hours left," she said, thinking about her earlier question. Her head thumped back against the metal. "Bradford, it doesn't feel like we may have fourteen hours left."
"It doesn't matter," I said, equally feeling the effects of the heat. "We just have to focus on staying alive."
"Staying alive," she said sleepily.
I nudge her shoulder again.
"I'm awake. I promise," she said, but I wasn't believing her. She turned her head to the side to look over at me, her brown eyes searching mine. "Are we going to die?"
I held her gaze. "No," I replied earnestly. "As your T.O., I am commanding you to focus on staying alive."
She shot me a mock salute. "Yes, sir," she said before letting out a sigh. "Thanks, Tim."
It wasn't the first time she had used my name, but somehow after what we were facing together, it seemed right.
I smiled. "I think after this, when we're not on shift, you earned the right to just call me Tim."
She matched my smile. "I think that's the favorite thing you have said to me today," she sighed. "If you tell anyone what I am about to tell you, I'll deny it."
"Yeah, what's that?"
"If I had to be trapped in a hot, metal tin can with anyone, I am at least glad it was with you. I always feel safe knowing you have my six," she acknowledged. She let out another sigh. "Feels like we can beat the impossible."
Now, I knew she was in dangerous levels of delirium. "I agree, Boot."
"Lucy," she said through a yawn. "When you aren't busting my chops."
A few more hours passed, as I made sure to keep trying to move and start conversation with Lucy every twenty minutes or so. It had been about another twenty minutes when I turned my head to check on her, her eyes completely closed, her entire body sagged.
I tried to shake her like I had in the past, but this time she didn't move. My own arms felt heavy, every movement agonizing and felt like I was fighting through double of bodyweight to make the movement.
"Lucy, wake up." She still didn't stir. "Lucy!"
Her head rolled to my shoulder, my hand slowly going to her neck. Her pulse was there, but weak.
"Luce…"
My hand slipped; my eyes started to flutter open and close, before the darkness took me over.
It felt like I had been hit in the head, voices disoriented, as my eyes opened and closed.
I squinted as I opened them, looking around. I was lying on a stretcher in the back of an open ambulance.
"Welcome back," Grey said, appearing at my side.
"How…how long was I out?" I asked, my voice rough and raspy.
My mind was starting to clear, my guess the I.V. in my arm pumping me full of fluids after being severely dehydrated.
"A few hours. It was touch and go for a while."
"Lucy?"
He stepped aside, so I could see across the way where Lucy was sitting up on her own stretcher with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. There was a male first responder standing next to her, smiling and laughing with her as he rested his hand on her forearm.
Her eyes looked up in that moment, meeting mine from across the way. She said something to the first responder, hopping down from the stretcher, her movements wobbly as he helped steady her. He handed her the bag to her I.V. as she moved slowly in my direction with the help of Nolan at her side.
"Hey," she greeted, her voice just as raspy. "We were worried you weren't going to wake up."
"Sorry, Chen. No escaping this T.O."
"We're glad you're both ok," Grey interjected.
I turned back to him. "How did you find us?"
"After we started searching, we knew something was wrong when the number of containers present didn't match. That's when Harper mentioned the possibility of shipments that had left in conjunction with us losing all communication with you," Grey explained.
"We figured based on Palmer's M.O. that he would have contingency plans to keep us guessing. I recommended we go back to Palmer who confirmed my suspicions," Harper said taking over. "We knew he liked to watch his work in action, so we figured he had his accomplice recording everything. We managed to cut into the feed and track the signal so we could find you. It was our only shot in making it in time since the logs showed four different shipments having gone out yesterday."
"And Carina?" I asked.
Grey smiled. "We found her at the shipping yard only two containers down from yours. It appears Palmer traded her life for yours. You were the end game."
I nodded, my brain still trying to process everything.
"But we happily made sure Palmer knew you both survived," Harper grinned.
"And the accomplice?" Lucy asked.
"Unaccounted for," Grey answered dejectedly. "We have our best detectives along with the help from the F.B.I looking into his life and history. We're sure he or she will turn up soon. Now, everything else can wait until you and Officer Chen are checked out and cleared by the hospital."
Grey turned at the sound of his name and walked over to speak to Pine. Harper smiled at me, squeezing my arm and expressing how glad she was that Lucy and I were ok, before she placed her hand on Lucy's shoulder and walked away.
"You, ok?" I asked, turning back to Lucy.
"Yeah. I'm better now that I know my T.O. didn't die on me," she teased.
I pushed the blanket down being careful not to disrupt the I.V. "It will take a lot more than that, Boot." She turned back to look at the first responder guy. "Have a friend, I see."
She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "That's Connor. He said he was the first to reach me and pulled me out while the others came and got you."
I looked back at Connor and then Lucy. "I think he likes you."
"Maybe. We'll see."
I didn't need to be a detective to know the slight grin on her face signaled she hoped so.
Another first responder returned to my ambulance. "We really need to get you both to the hospital to be checked out. You were both unconscious for a good bit of time."
"Yeah, of course," Lucy agreed, even though she looked as if she didn't want to move. "I'll see you later."
"Yeah."
Lucy started to walk away, but stopped, and half turned back. "Hey, Tim?" I looked at her, for the first time since she started using my name since I gave her permission. "Thanks."
My brows furrowed up. "For what? Doing my job?"
She smiled and shook her head, before turning and walking back to her ambulance, the first responder—Connor—she was laughing with earlier extending his hand as she took it to climb back onto the stretcher in the cab.
"So, it's been a while since I got a VIP ride," Lopez said, climbing in the back of my ambulance out of nowhere.
"I'm fine. I don't need you to babysit me," I said, my eyes on Lucy as she got settled onto her stretcher. She was still my Boot. I just wanted to make sure she was well taken care of and looked after.
Lopez followed my glance and then back at me. "I know. And I am still coming anyway. Seems like you have news to share," she probed, raising her brow.
"Yeah, it's to give you shit about what a cushy day you all had," I remarked.
"And he's back," she grinned as the doors to the ambulance shut and we headed to the hospital.