Detective Erin Lindsay was walking through the doors of the 21st when she was hailed by Platt to the reception desk.
"Any news on Captain America?"
It was too early to be worried about Jay, but the fact that he was late, when usually he was the first one in the bullpen, was enough to get couple of butterflies dancing around in her gut.
With a smirk at Platt's droll humor, Erin replied, "No. I checked his apartment on the way in and he still isn't answering his cell. Voight's gunna tear him a new one."
"Well, he's already warming up. We've been able to hear him from down here."
The look on Erin's face was priceless; an evolving look of surprise turned into 'what the hell' followed by all out fear. Voight liked to keep all things Intelligence in-house. The fact that he was allowing his anger about a tardy detective trickle down the stairs only meant one thing. Today was going to be a shit day.
She turned to the stairs, ready to face the inevitable when Platt called her back to the desk. She handed Erin an envelope. "This was here for you when I came in this morning."
"Thanks." Erin gave a wave with the envelope and climbed up the stairs to hell.
Erin walked into the bullpen, taking in the faces of her fellow detectives, she almost wanted to laugh at the grown men reduced to 6th grade boys being reprimanded by the principal.
Then the wrath was turned on her, anger making Voight's voice extra gravelly.
"Where the hell is your partner Erin?"
"I don't know. I'm not his mother." His girlfriend though, yes. "He wasn't home."
Ruzek walked in from the the locker room. "Maybe he went to see Will. He left Molly's early. I don't think he was feeling very good."
Antonio answered sarcastically, "Jay's not going to see his brother cuz he's feeling sick. He might go see his brother if he was dead, but not because of a little fever."
"Alright!" Voight growled. "Suit up, we leave in 5 minutes. I'm not waiting around for Halstead even if the intel is from his CI."
Antonio got the spare gun out of his desk and strapped it to his ankle. Ruzek and Atwater headed to the locker rooms for their vests.
"Where's Olinsky?" Voight yelled from the the back hall.
"Ya. Here." Olinsky replied, leaning around the corner from his chair.
"What are you waiting for, an engraved invitation?"
"Not necessary." Olinsky said to his old friend. And with a smile at Lindsey headed for the roll-up.
Erin opened the envelope before heading down. It was a Skype number. She pulled up Skype and waited for the number to connect. She heard background noise before the picture came up, telling her that there was a connection. When the picture came up she couldn't quite process what she was looking at. Then her mind seemed to snap back on.
Laying in the middle of what looked like a basement was an unconscious man in jeans, combat boots and a Blackhawks hoodie. He was laying half on his side with his head turned away from her, his right arm limp behind him.
"Shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit shit!" She rasped in disbelief. "Voight!"
XXXXXXX
They were all gathered around her desk staring at the screen, where absolutely nothing was happening except the stillness of Jay Halstead.
Erin was bombarded with questions from the team.
"What the hell?" "Where did you get this?" "Is it a picture or a video?" "He's not moving. Is he alive?" "Is there a timestamp?" "Has anything else happened?"
"Stop!" Voight raged. Calmer, quieter, "Erin?'
"Pratt gave me an envelope when I came in. This was in it."
She moved the card towards Voight with her fingernail incase there were prints.
Voight turned his head to read the card. In black block letters it said, "Skype me" and the number in slightly larger print.
"It connected less than a minute ago...SHIT! Skype! Jay! Jay can you hear me? Jay!"
Remembering that Skype was basically a phone call with picture, they all joined in, yelling at their (hopefully only) unconscious partner.
"Uh, uh, uhhh." came a voice from the speaker immediately followed by a face in a ski mask filling the entire screen.
"I'm going to have to put you on mute. I don't want you waking Jay up. He needs his rest. I don't think he was feeling too good before I put him down for his nap."
He turned around to look at Jay, giving the detectives a partial view of Jay's head.
Turning back to them with a sick smile, letting the gravity of the situation settle in, he gave a soft laugh, "He put up a good fight. He's sicker than a dog and he still got in some good blows before we had to drug him...and then he STILL fought us. He left the screen once again giving us a clear view of Jay's still form for almost a minute. Then, "Call me in an hour." and the screen went blank.
