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!"

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.

You could cut the silence in the bullpen with a knife. All of them where to stunned by the last few minutes to move on to the next step. Even Voight. It was Olinsky who spoke first. "The kid's alive. Can't tell if he's injured. But he must be alive based on what the masked guy said. That is, if we can believe him."

Erin met Alvin's eyes. His eyes and the half smile on his face said hope. I'm sure her eyes said nothing but fear.

"Ruzek. Go get Mouse. Then bring Pratt up here." Voight rubbed a hand over his face and took a breath.

"He's still wearing the same clothes he was wearing last night." Atwater chimed in.

Antonio added, "There's at least two of them. He said, 'us.'"

Al turned to Atwater, "What time did he leave last night?"

Ruzek answered coming up the stairs with Mouse, "He left about 10:30/10:45."

Voight asked, "Did he say anything about meeting a CI or where he was going?"

"No, he just said he was going to head out."

Ruzek finished for Atwater, "We thought he was just going home. He really did look like crap even though he didn't say anything. He just got quiet like he does when he's not too good…in one way or another."

They all momentarily got lost in their thoughts. They all knew Jay was an Army Ranger and did a couple tours in Afghanistan. There was a time before he joined Intelligence, when his PTSD was so bad he drank himself into oblivion everyday and was possibly suicidal. How they knew this information was hard to tell. Gossip came in drips and drabs at the 21st. Jay wasn't forthcoming with any information about his days with the Rangers, except that he was one. They all knew bits and pieces but none of them knew the whole story. Except possibly Mouse and the only thing that snapped Jay out of his own personal hell was helping Mouse out of his. Mouse was a mess when he came back to Chicago, a drug addict and suicidal. Jay probably saved his life.

Platt interrupted their thoughts.

"You wanted to see me Sarge?"

"Tell me about the note left at the desk for Erin."

"Not much to tell. It was on top of the booking sheets from the night shift. I'll call Jerry and ask him how he got it…if he saw who brought it in."

"Thanks Trudy." Voight said as she headed back down the stairs. "Mouse. Did Ruzek explain the situation?"

"Yes sir." Mouse said with a steady voice. Usually when dealing with Voight, (or anyone else on the team) you could tell how Mouse possibly got the nickname 'Mouse'. He was skittish, unsure of himself and you could barely hear what he was saying. Except when talking to or about Jay. It seems like then you got a real glimpse of what Mouse used to be like before Afghanistan.

Voight continued to Mouse, "I need to know if you can record Skype calls and can you find out where the number is calling from."

"You can record Skype calls. You need third party software which is already installed into the system. I can ping the number and see where its coming from. You can also take screen shots as you're talking."

"Good. That'll help. I need to know how to record when we call next and I need you to ping that number. I also need you to ping Halstead's phone and get me a location of where it is and where it's been, starting at 10:30 last night."

"Got it."

Voight turned back to the team as Mouse went back downstairs. "Olinsky, I want you and Erin back at Halstead's apartment. See if he even made it home. The guy said he struggled so I'm sure you would have seen that when you were there Erin. But he could gone back out. See if his car is there, if he put his gun in his gun safe, if there is any sign that he was there at all last night after he left the bar. Talk to his neighbors see if they saw him. Then check with management and see if they have security cameras. Ruzek, Atwater - get that CI's ass down here. I want to know if he was a part of this. Talk to Platt on your way out and let her know we need Burgess and Roman to start checking his tagged cases for vendettas. I'll call Halstead's brother and see if he's heard from him."

"Antonio. Talk to your sister. I want to know if any of them saw anything at the bar that seemed out of place. See if they remember any other customers that were coming or going the same time Jay was leaving. Check their security footage. I'll be with Mouse to make the call."

He took a breath, dropped his head with a shake. When he lifted it you could see he could barely contain his rage. "We will get him back." He looked at each one of them daring them to disagree.

"Voight" Erin walked over to him as he was going down the steps. "I want to be here when you make the call." Their eyes locked in a battle of wills.

"No. Go with Olinsky. That's your job right now." Erin continued to look at Voight. She looked away first. She knew when she didn't have a chance of winning an argument with him.

Voight sat down by Mouse, an old school cop in an office filled with present day tech. Computer screens and keyboards the only things in his realm of understanding and that just barely. He might have looked out of place to anyone who knew him but it only took seconds for Voight's essence to overwhelm a space.

Mouse nodded towards the screen in front of Voight. "I have that computer set up for the call. It will record automatically and I have it set up to automatically take screen shots every 5 seconds."

"I pinged Jay's phone and it's last know coordinates were on the same block as Molly's and then there is nothing."

Voight exhaled in frustration. "Alright lets make this call."

Again, there was audio before visual. No particular sounds came through the speakers, just the quiet background hiss of an empty space.

When the video came on, it was the same room. Halstead was against the wall, his knees pulled up towards his chest, his arms resting on his knees. He looked awake but out of it. With his head resting against the wall, you could see his eyes were open but not focused, either from the drugs, being sick or both. A scrape on his chin and the beginnings of a bruise on his right cheek the only signs he had been in a fight. He was wearing a long sleeved tee. They had taken his hoodie as well as his shoes and socks. He had a metal cuff around his ankle with a six foot chain anchored to the floor at the base of the wall. Voight and Mouse took it all in. Mouse's quiet words echoed his thoughts. "Aw, shit…Jay."

Nothing happened as they watched Jay struggle to clear his head. He rubbed his eyes, blinking them a few times when something drew his attention forward and to his left. "Fuuu…." was all they heard as the line went dead.

Erin opened the door to Jay's apartment with her key. It looked the same as when she was here a couple hours ago but they took a more detailed look around.

"I don't see anything out of place. It looks like he never made it home last night." She reached behind the nightstand and grabbed the key hidden there. With a shrug at Al to answer the obvious question on his face, of how did you know that was there? she unlocked the top drawer in the stand by his bed. "His gun and badge aren't here. He never made it home."

Later they were all back in the bullpen. Roman and Burgess the last to arrive, Roman carrying a stack of case files.

"Well?" Erin asked.

Voight met the question without emotion.

"He looks ok. He's in the same room." Voight went on to describe the scene to them.

"But he looks good?." It was more of a statement than a question.

"He looks okay Ruzek."

They knew Voight's cold, detached answer was a defense mechanism. He wouldn't show them his fears. But they were there and they all knew it. But they also knew they had to have clear heads if they were going to get Halstead back alive. They would follow Voight's lead.

Voight's phone chimed. "Ya Mouse?"

"Sending up the video. Lindsay's computer."

An exhaled "Jay…" from Erin was the only remark when they were done watching it.

The one thing they all noticed and what probably scared them the most, was there were no instructions when to call again. No one else had been in the video except Jay.

Voight took his place at the front of the bullpen, hand in pockets, feet apart. His typical, 'doesn't take bullshit' stance.

"What did ya get?"

Al spoke up. "It looks like he didn't make home last night. Gun and badge aren't there. Nothing looks disturbed in his apartment and his car isn't in it's spot."

Erin took over. "The neighbors that were home didn't see or hear anything unusual. None of them had seen Jay that night. His mail was still in the box. The manager showed us the video from the garage and lobby, from last night when he left the bar until this morning. Nothing's there."

"Antonio?"

"I talked to Gaby. There was nothing out of the ordinary. She saw Jay leave but no one followed him out. Severide came in right after Jay left. When we called him he said Jay wasn't headed for the the parking lot so he probably parked on the street. They only have 3 cameras outside the bar. Front door, back door, and parking lot. There was nothing on them. But the front and back door only cover about 10 yards in either direction so they could have grabbed him when he was out of camera range."

Voight gave his update. "Halstead's CI is in the wind. Whether he ran because of the information he provided for the bust or this, is unknown. Platt put out a Person Of Interest on him so hopefully we can pick him up."

Just then Voight's phone chimed again. "Go Mouse."

"I've got Jay's phone. It's located between 2231 and 2239 N. Shore Dr."

Everyone moved to suit up but Voight stopped them. He and Olinsky exchanging a look.

"Al, Antonio check it. Get crime scene down there."

"But Boss, shouldn't we all go? Jay could be there." A confused Atwater asked. Erin obviously in agreement, "pissed beyond belief" clearly registering on her face.

"He's not there." Al quietly said looking down. Before anyone could speak up, Olinsky raised his head and finished his thought.

"That's were Jay shot Bembenek's brother."

Jay's POV

All I wanted to do is go home, take a hot shower and go to bed. I never should have gone to Molly's. I should've just gone home and gone to bed. I blame it on Will for breathing his germs on me when he came over the other day.

I'm basically trudging to my car, which feels a million miles away, even though it's just on the next street, when a big, tall guy in a mask and dark clothes steps in front of me on the sidewalk. I'm about to react when two carbon copies of said big guy step up behind me and grab my arms. I'm not going anywhere.

"Hi Jay, let's go for a ride." The first guy said with a friendly attitude that was anything BUT friendly.

"Hey, thanks for the offer but my car's parked just down the street."

"Jay, Jay, isn't negotiable."

Jay looked around, "Did you guys call each other or is it an accident that you're all wearing the same outfit?"

"Let's go." He said with a nod to Big Guy's 2 and 3.

"Fuck," was my only thought as the adrenaline kicked one fluid motion, using the big guys that are holding me as leverage, I swing my right leg up and around, kicking the guy in front of me on the left side of his face knocking him to the momentum of the kick allowed me to break the grip of the guys holding me as I swung around, now facing them.I punch the guy on the right, then immediately aimed a kick to the gut of the guy on the left, eliciting a grunt as the kick found its target. While neither fell, they both stumbled backwards giving me more room to maneuver and hopefully get to my was when the original big guy rabbit punched me twice in the kidney, making me arch my back, crying out in allowed one of them, he was losing track of who was who, to punch him in the jaw, while the other one drove his fist into my stomach.

He was still bent over from the gut punch when he felt something sharp, shit, jam into the side of his neck. He cried out through clenched teeth as he reached back and ripped it out of his neck. An empty syringe. Whatever was in the syringe was now in him. Panic sent another burst of adrenaline through him as he continued to struggle against the two, who again, had a hold of him. One of them threw another punch, connecting with his cheek, snapping his head back. That's when things got fuzzy and whatever was in that syringe started taking hold. He could feel himself slipping into oblivion. He sunk to his knees as the big guys continued to hold him.

The original guy, their leader, walked around Jay, He put his hands on his hips and shook his head in mock disappointment as he looked at the young man on his knees in front of him; struggling to keep his head up, still trying to fight the drug; sweatshirt riding up, showing a bare midriff, his gun tucked into his waist band, his badge clipped onto his belt. He grabbed Jay by the hair and jerked his head back, looked into his eyes, smiling at him. Jay tried to look back with what he hoped was defiance as the world spun around him; one eye closed, hoping it would help him focus and a smile on his face as the leader took the gun and badge and handed it to one of his men. He continued to look at Jay with that same sadistic smile and then quickly landed a jab on Jay's bare torso, forcing Jay to cry out.

"That's for not playing nice."

Jay's eyes closed, the fight gone as his body slumped even more, head falling to his chest. Jay's last thought as he slipped into the darkness was of Erin.

The man stared a few more seconds then reached into Jay's pockets for his keys, wallet and phone, handing them to the man holding Jay's other possessions. "Park his car in the alley facing south. Leave everything in it. Bruce is there waiting for you."

The other big man was lifting Jay's limp body over his shoulder.

"Bring him."