Tolerance Book II

Chapter One: Questions

Authors' Note

In case anyone missed the note in the "Story Description' section this is a continuation of Tolerance Book I. Unfortunately it was only after I completed Chapter 198 in Tolerance Book I that Wattpad advised me there is a limit to the amount of Chapters allowed in a story.  This meant I could not finish up the Wells' storyline in Book 1.  Needless to point out it's necessary to read Tolerance Book I before starting Book II accordingly 😃.

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New York was playing host to the CPD Intelligence Unit as they investigated a serial Bomber who had a keen interest in one Detective Jay Halstead for some unknown reason.  After several bombings and murders matters took an even more ominous turn for the worse when their suspect, John Wells, took the unwell Detective captive.  A breakthrough had finally come with the discovery of the person aiding Wells from inside the investigation team, which comprised of Agents from several different agencies working under the umbrella of Homeland Security.  Voight and the HS Assistant Director James Murphy were keen to ascertain information from James Beckett, the FBI Agent responsible for placing a listening device in Murphys' office.

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Despite the surveillance evidence against him Beckett had remained markedly unconcerned by the present turn of events as he sat in the Interview Room.  If he was worried he hid it well. Voight shared a look with Murphy.  They had been questioning the young man for over an hour and to date he had not imparted any helpful information.  Their queries however had only related to the planting of the listening device and trespass.  The Sergeant decided it was time to get some proper answers.

"Beckett you're here because you are aiding and abetting a known Bomber and Murderer.  Why doesn't that bother you?"
"I'm ......," the FBI Agent looked stricken for a moment then fell into silence.
"You have placed this whole investigation under jeopardy not to mention endangered Detective Halsteads' life," Murphy put in sternly, taking his lead from the Chicago man.
"Was the money that good?" Voight asked mildly.
"Money?"
"Why else would you hinder the investigation and help Wells?"
"It's not .....," Beckett began defensively but then stopped himself relapsing into silence as a knock sounded on the door.
"You think about what you've done," Voight directed coldly as he rose to his feet abruptly.
"You need to think long and hard about co-operating with us," Murphy advised firmly before he followed the Sergeant out.

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Much to Jays' consternation he had lost consciousness at some stage. The wounds inflicted stoking the embers of the fever ravishing his body were no doubt responsible for his weariness. He knew he had been held against his will for days, his strength depleted by the injuries his Captor had clinically carved into him.  A chance to escape was a distant hope in his present condition and he had come to the slow realization, after pondering the situation, that escaping would leave the deranged man free to continue his murderous spree.  The decision to physically tackle Wells to save further victims was an easy one for the former ex-Ranger to make.  Raising his eyes he was greeted by a frowning Wells sitting in a newly installed chair opposite him drinking a beer.

"Thought you were trying to avoid me."
"That's kinda difficult to do," Jay gestured to his handcuffed hand, "of course I understand your reasoning."
"What do you mean?"
"You know you're no match for me," Jay commented as he eyed the handcuff restraining him linked to the thick steel ring affixed to the wall, "don't blame you though. I'd be scared of me too."
"I'm not scared of you!" Wells threw the beer bottle at the far wall in frustration, sending glass fragments and beer cascading down.
"Guess if you say it often enough it might become true," Jays' words dripped with derision, hiding his relief at the first sign that his Captor could in fact be goaded into a rage thereby increasing his chances of success.
"I don't need to prove myself to you," Wells stated with a forced grin.
"Course not," Jay agreed but they both knew the truth, "you can't take me on like a man, much like your attacks. Pretty damn easy to kill people when they're unguarded and vulnerable. You must be really proud of your work."
"I really don't see what Petrocelli saw in you," Wells noted softly as he rose to his feet and headed for the door.
"That's a hell of a reason to go on a killing spree," Jay muttered in disgust "your feelings got hurt!"
"You don't know anything about me," the older man placed a hand on the door handle.
"I know you're afraid of me. That tells me two things, first you're not entirely stupid and second you have a right to be."
"Words are worthless," Wells opened the door to depart.
"Much like you."