Tolerance Book II

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Revelations

"We're not here to play games," Voight put in before the military men could respond, "Detective Halstead will not be interrogated by you. I agreed to this meeting but unless you have something to tell us it ends now."
"I did some checking," James spoke without acknowledging the Sergeants' terse warning as he eyed the ex-Sniper across the table, "you had an exemplary record. Some of what you did was pretty hard core ...,"
"How would you know what he did?" Voight demanded, he knew his subordinates' records for the most part were sealed and did not expect a Master Sergeant would have access to same.
"Like I said I did some checking. You could have stayed in the Rangers ....,"
"Wasn't for me," Jay shrugged nonchalantly, he wondered just what details the man had discovered but was not about to ask.
"So how about you tell us what exactly King took? Voight suggested, determined to get the conversation back on track.
"At the moment we can't account for three crates of AK-47s and ......,"
"Damn!" Voight allowed his surprise to show.
"How many rifles?" Jay sought specifics.
"Sixty," Greyson supplied after receiving a nod from his companion.
"What else?"
"Four crates of M67s," James added unhappily after a brief pause.
"M67s?" Voight queried, he had never heard of such a gun.
"Fragmentation hand grenades," Jay explained keeping his gaze on the two military men, "anything else?"
"Isn't that enough?!" Greysons' voice dripped with ire.
"Just want to know what we're dealing with," Jay noted calmly, he took no offence at the Supply Sergeants' anger, misdirected as it was.
"That's all we are missing ...... at this time," James stated.
"So ye might be missing more?" Voight understood the mans' wording.
"We're still doing stock checks," Greyson advised, "it's going to take a while."
"Were the crates taken from one base or several? Jay checked, he had known supply weapons would not be stored at the Training Center even though the visitors had not divulged this.
"Several."
"I want a breakdown," Voight instructed without preamble, he was done with pussyfooting around, "we need to know everything you know."
"This is a matter for the U.S. Navy ...," James began only to be interrupted.
"Like hell it is! King is ours. We've been on this case for months."
"Which begs the question ...,"
"You angling for a fight or are you just plain dumb?" Voight wondered.
"Look we all have the same goal," Jay quickly interceded before things really kicked off, "we want the weapons back and King behind bars."
"True," Greyson conceded ruefully when his companion remained silent glaring at Voight, "sorry if things got a bit heated. I don't like the thought of my weapons ending up on the streets."
"I can understand that but I'm not sure they'll wind up on the streets."
"How come?" James ended his staring contest with the Police Sergeant and turned his full attention to the young Detective.
"There might be a market for the AK-47s but the M67s are a different story."
"King had used IEDs up to now," Voight noted thoughtfully, "maybe he's changing firepower."
"Well sixty AK-47s would definitely be a lot of firepower but you said King essentially works alone since his brother died."
"Could he use the M67s as an explosive device?"
"Sure," Greyson nodded, "he could create quite a blast if he wanted to. He'd need to rig things carefully but it would be doable."
"Guess we know what he's doing now," Jay lamented as he looked at Voight, the knowledge provided no comfort.
"Gentlemen," James looked at the pair across the table and obviously came to a decision, "let's work out how to ensure those weapons do not get used."
"Now that's a plan I can work with," Voight accepted the truce that had been called.

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Voights' Office

Two hours later James and Greyson departed after forging an alliance with the Sergeant and Detective. Jay had explained to Voight after the pair left that he held no ill will as a result of the initial acrimony. Reminding the older man how serious losing weapons could be with possible catastrophic consequences for innocent people the older man had to agree he too would be on edge if he was responsible for the stolen items and he lost the remaining ire he felt. After stirring his coffee and leaning back against the counter the Sergeant decided to get some answers to questions arising out of the meeting.

"Sergeant Greyson shouldn't have been at the interview should he?"
"It wouldn't be normal protocol," Jay explained as he sat nursing a cool can of soda, "but I don't blame him for wanting to be involved."
"Yet the rifles and hand grenades went missing from a number of bases," Voight mused, "so presumably he wasn't responsible for all of the stolen items."
"Actually it's highly likely he is," Jay rebuffed the notion, "a Supply Sergeants' remit can cover more than one base. It all depends on the size of the bases."
"Okay ..... that makes sense," the older man concurred, "so do you think they're genuinely on board in working with us?"
"Yeah Sarge I do. They won't like it but they need our help. The longer those AK-47s and M67s are unaccounted for the higher the chances are they won't be recovered. They know that."
"Stealing AK-47s? What's your reading on that?"
"The only logical possibility is he intends to use them to raise finance."
"But you're not convinced of that?" Voight checked intuitively.
"No I'm not but I can't think of any other purpose."
"I can't either."
"He's going big this time," Jay finally voiced what he dreaded.
"Hand grenades can do a lot of damage but there's nothing we can do to stop King right now."
"I know Sarge."

Jays' reluctant acceptance of the unpalatable truth did nothing to dispel the fear he had. King was going to go all out this time and they had no idea pf what target he might choose. The very real likelihood was that many more people would be killed before the deranged man was stopped.

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O'Sheas' Bar & Restaurant

Two nights later the Unit sat around a dark weathered oak table in a booth located at the back of an Irish eatery in Bucktown Jay had introduced the men to. They had all been surprised but grateful when their friend had offered up one of his favourite places to dine when a late dinner was being planned after yet another long, frustrating day. Glancing around at the thick wood furnishings and emerald green leather booths with subdued brass lighting Voight could understand the appeal of the place. It gave a sense of tranquility, its' surroundings engendering a relaxing respite from a days' troubles. The large orange stone fire place across from them was bereft of burning logs in deference to the time of year but an abundance of real tall and wide cream candles had been lit in the grate to add to the overall cosy ambience of the restaurant. The older man appreciated the young Detectives' gesture and knew the others did too. By divulging one of his favourite places he was opening himself up more to them. Despite the years he had spent with the team Jay still kept a lot of his life private. The men all knew it was just his nature and took no offence.

"So how long have you been coming here?" Mouse wondered after the helpful Waitress had departed with a note of their various orders.
"A while," Jay shrugged, "the food is good."
"And the service," Adam put in with an amused grin, they had all been aware of the Waitresses' obvious infatuation with their friend.
"She's seventeen Ruzek," Jay admonished shaking his head before adding, "her brothers would be glad to remind you of that."
"Guess you appeal to all ages," Kevin deadpanned around a mouthful of peanuts, he was starving, "so how many brothers does she have?"
"Four. Three work here."
"What about the fourth?" Antonio asked curiously.
"He's a Cartoonist."
"That must have gone down well," Adam noted ruefully.
"Actually it did," Jay smiled and pointed to the wall surrounding the door to the restrooms where several large printed cartoons were hanging.
"Takes all kinds," Al stated with a grin.
"It sure does. Paddy says if the whole family worked here it might look like nepotism so one Cartoonist is allowed."
"The man obviously has a sense of humour," Voight acknowledged, "so you know the whole family?"
"Kind of comes with the territory."
"What do you mean?" Antonio raised an eyebrow.
"If you're Irish Paddy temds to treat you like one of the family. Will used to play at Irish weddings and ...,"
"Play?"
"He can sing and plays guitar. Anyway he was booked for Seans' wedding, the second youngest, and I wound up driving him because he had sprained his ankle the night before. That was about eleven years ago."
"Well if the food's as good as the atmosphere and the O'Sheas I think we've found our new regular haunt," Adam rubbed his hands together in anticipation, as ever he was ravenous.
"Now just who's doubting my food?!" a strong voice with a thick Irish brogue demanded indignantly.
"No Sir ..... I wasn't .... I mean ......," Adam gulped as he craned his neck to look up at the new six foot three arrival .....

tbc

Authors' Note

Whereas previously I have used actual restaurants etc. O'Sheas Bar & Restaurant is merely a figment of my imagination 😁.