Tolerance Book I (Chicago PD/Med FF) by Frances51163

Chapter Thirty-Nine: A Friends' Aid

Sitting on a picnic bench overlooking the morning choppy waters in Burnham Shores Park Jay checked his watch.  It was only fifteen after ten so he was early.  Evanston had been a good choice for him as a place to stay.  Close to Glencoe but outside of Chicago it was still only 19 km from his downtown home.  It had a larger population than Glencoe which had been another appealing factor as this time he was not condemned to quarters. He had spent the last of his money on some clothes and the cheapest hotel he could find. He was itching to access his bank accounts but that was why he had only taken cash from his wallet, leaving the credit cards behind.  If he didn't have cards he wouldn't be tempted to use them. He knew just how well Mouse tracked targets.  That thought made him shake his head ruefully.  He had to stay out of his brothers' and friends' reach so he was now their target!  He didn't appreciate the irony as he rubbed his aching forehead.  He was feeling uncomfortable about what he was about to do.  This, a rare feeling for him.  He was always confident in dealing with situations but since the attack at Med he found his confidence shaken and doubted his decisions. Like the decision to make a public phone call to a man he hadn't seen in a long time.  A man he really didn't want to see, especially in his present condition.  He straightened on the bench as he saw a familiar figure approaching, from his right, at a stroll.  Watching as the man drew closer Jay pulled the collar of the new brown leather jacket up around his neck as he shivered in the December chill.

"So you decided you wanted to meet," the newcomer approached the bench assessing the young man before him. "about damn time."
"I ...,"
"You rang me remember," the older man sat down, "anything you got to say to me?"
"Well .... I ....,"
"Damn it! Kid I told you before if you were ever in trouble to look me up," forty-five year old ex-Army Medic James Ortega scolded, "you should have phoned me the minute you needed help."
"Things have been a bit crazy Jimmy," Jay confided around a cough.
"Well for now you're coming with me."
"No, no ...,"
"You need somewhere to rest and I need to take a proper look at you."
"I didn't ask you to ...,"
"I know," Jimmy rolled his eyes, "you asked if you could borrow some money and wouldn't give me any details."
"Look forget it.  This was a bad idea," Jay went to get up but his friend stopped him with a firm grip on his shoulder.
"I know you're independent Kid but you're also smart and right now you just need to take some time to get well and then we can sort out whatever is going on."
"Don't want to put you out."
"You know me long enough to know that I'll tell you if you do.  Now come on let's get moving."
"Where?" Jay asked as he was pulled to his feet.
"I'm taking you to a hotel."
"I have a hotel."
"Well this is a nice hotel," Jimmy spoke with a gentleness which belied his strength as he placed a protective arm around the smaller mans' shoulders, "of course you're more than welcome to stay with us but knowing you I figured you'd prefer a hotel."
"We can go to mine."
"Well we will," Jimmy informed his ill friend as they approached a black pickup truck with its' engine running.
"Whoa! Who's that?" Jay planted his feet and looked up at his old friend.
"That is my son Diego," Jimmy stated proudly as he tugged the other man to get him moving again, "he has wanted to meet you a long time."
"Why?" Jay frowned as they reached the vehicle and he climbed into the back seat with some aid.
"I have told him how you saved my life," Jimmy grinned mischievously as he got in beside the coughing man.
"It is good to meet you," twenty-four year old Diego Ortega turned around in the drivers' seat with a beaming smile to look at the man his father had so often spoken about, "it is an honour.  My father has told me much about you."
"Good to meet you too Diego," Jay returned the smile, "but don't go believing everything this guy says.  He likes to exaggerate."
"Diego we need to make a stop at Jays' hotel and then we'll go to the Homestead."
"That sounds expensive," Jay objected as he rubbed his red rimmed eyes.
"Well it would be but I know someone working there," Jimmy explained gesturing for his son to get moving.
"I can stay where I am."
"Not arguing."
"Damn you're just as stubborn as ever!"

Jimmy caught his sons' eyes in the rear view mirror and winked.  He was determined to help the young man who had helped him through Boot Camp all those years ago in Fort Benning when the long days in Georgia threatened to overwhelm him.  The first step was to get his friend well.  From the wheezing he could hear beside him the Doctor suspected his friend may be developing a chest infection or pneumonia.  Either way he needed to rest despite whatever was going on.

-----------------------------

Back at the 21st the Unit was busy trying to source leads.  Antonio leaned back in his chair and looked at the others.

"Whatever hope we have of tracking the old man we'll never find the Kid.  Not unless he wants us to."
"Yeah," Kevin agreed unhappily as he closed the file on his desk.
"Should have put more bugs on him," Mouse uttered the words he had spoken repeatedly, as he sat at Jays' desk as per his Sergeants' request.
"He'd have found them," Adam offered in consolation, not for the first time.
"So has anyone anything at all?" Hank demanded as Sergeant Platt came up the stairs.
"I have," Platt walked up to stand beside the Unit leader, at the entrance to his office.
"Well by all means share," Hank gestured to the gathered men.
"You asked me to do some checking into who knew about the apartment that was attacked."
"What did you find."
"Well since you explained that not even your team knew who owned the place and it isn't a registered safehouse or safe apartment or ... whatever," Platt shrugged, "I realized it had to be someone who found out perhaps by chance."
"And?" Adam leaned forward impatiently.
"This is the person ye need to speak to," Platt handed over a piece of paper to Hank then headed for the stairs.
"Boss who is it?" Adam was already standing as were the others.
"Peter Jones."
"But how would Jones have found out?" Antonio frowned thinking of the seemingly affable IT Specialist who had filled in while Mouse was on vacation.
"There was no security breach," Mouse defended automatically, he had triple checked everything on his return.
"Nothing was on computer," Hank sighed.
"I checked the log for the date you gave me and nothing showed up," Platt turned around at the stairs to face the room and met the other Sergeants' eyes, "I spoke to a few people. Jones was downstairs the night your friend dropped in."
"But I spoke to him in my office?"
"Door open?" Platt asked rhetorically as she headed off.
"So he came up the back way from the garage?" Al queried for none of the team had been present at the meeting.
"Doors were locked," Hank pointed out deceptively calm, "come on let's move.  We're heading out in ten.  Full gear.  I'm not taking any chances," Hank handed the paper to Mouse to distribute the address.
"Hell this just gets better and better," Adam shook his head as he grabbed his jacket after checking his handgun.

tbc