Jay Halstead Chicago Pd Ram Truck Novels & Stories

Then the dashboard lights flickered. Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out, and her blood ran cold. The caller ID: JAX MADD0X — the zero replacing the ‘O.’ Her hands trembled as she answered. “Don’t hang up,” his voice said, distorted but calm. “Where are you?” she shouted. “Everywhere.” The radio crackled, headlights flickered, and suddenly the truck’s steering wheel jerked hard to the right on its own. “Stop it!” she screamed, trying to fight it.

I didn’t know what was happening and where Razor came from and pulled the trigger at James to the abdomen and he fell on the ground making me startled looking at Jay who was smirking. “You killed your cop?” I said, shaking from the cold. “Wrong. He was never on our side. Bet you are beating yourself up now for not waiting when he called out.” Jay laughed as he threw me in the van before he jumped in with a gun in his hand. I tried to jump at him with all my will but all I managed to do was get hit hard in the head before I saw stars and fell down closing my eyes.

“Jax, carry him.” Jax hauled him up like he weighed nothing, though Ramirez swore and gritted through pain. Outside, Ace shouted into his earpiece, “Incoming trucks! Two, maybe three—Delgado’s men circling back!” Cole cursed. “Of course they are.” Ashley kept pace beside Jax and Ramirez as they moved. He rasped. “You know this makes you accomplices, right?” Nolan snorted. “Add it to the list.” They reached the open yard just as the first cartel truck skidded in, bullets tearing up the ground.

It was the best choice rather than drowning and dying foolishly if they remained in the tilting helicopter. "You are under arrest for attempting to escape with prisoners. And welcome back, Mr. Gordon and Mr. Henry, you failed to escape!" said Lieutenant Myles Rodrigues as he apprehended the criminals surrounded on the banks of the Chicago River. The prisoner transport vehicle, which had been on standby on the highway bridge along the river, quickly filled with prisoners to be transported to the Chicago Police Department headquarters. The sirens were activated again, accompanied by the flashing red and blue lights on the double-cab van.

Then like a movie, the door to the warehouse burst open letting in flashes of the sun's ray. The businessman's eyes opened wide and he turned around curiously as if to see who had the guts to barge into his warehouse. Not less than ten armed cops invaded the building but they were too late. He drilled bullets through Daquan Hillevi, Amaya and Leo's uncle, the commissioner of NYC police department in the head thrice before dropping his cold dead body that fell onto the cold, dusty warehouse floor.

Major Reyes said, "he's a private contractor, I'm the one in charge of Ralph's tactical response force, but I have to ask." The video played, the black SUV ramming into Ralph's car, then the rush of men, and then the struggle. No sound, but enough projection. "He's been picked up. Looks like a snatch-and-drug." Reyes growled, pummeling his fist into his other palm. "Get me eyes on the area. Drones up. Make sure the air team is on standby." Jordan zoomed in on the ping coordinates, giving focus on the edge of an old rusty warehouse immediately next to train tracks.

A police cruiser pulled up behind him, siren whooping once to get his attention. Jake's heart skipped a beat. He pulled over to the shoulder, hands gripping the wheel tight. 'What did I do?' he wondered, glancing at the cop car. The officer stepped out, a big guy in his late 30s, broad shoulders filling out his uniform shirt. His name tag read 'Officer Hale.' He had a stern face, short dark hair, and a jaw that looked like it could crack nuts. Hale shone his flashlight into Jake's car, making him squint.

both deputies yelled as they deployed the tazers into him. It was moments like these that both deputies wished that they still had the K9 in the department. Big Jake retired earlier in the year and the former Sheriff Underwood saw it as a waste of money. It was less than a week since the new sheriff was sworn in and the paperwork had already been started for a new K9. Hank fell back twitching. Hendricks released her tazer and laid it on the floor. “David Michael five-one-seven on scene.” Jensen called over the radio as he ran up the walk to the apartment.

The timestamp in the corner confirmed the date had haunted their families, January 15th, 2009. On the screen, the truck sat idling in the shadows of an alleyway. A man stumbled out of the driver’s side. It was Nathan. Even though the low resolution, his agony was visible. He was hunched over, his hands over his face, his body shaking with the weight of the accident he had just been forced to commit. A second figure stepped into the frame from the darkness. It was Raymond, looking calm and clinical. Raymond didn’t offer a hand or a word of comfort. He reached into his coat and pulled out a heavy handgun.

“Damn Richmond must have known I was going to use the rat trail while I was in Seattle. But this time there was no mouse path. It's the only road that leads to Idaho." "Then, how?" Hazel's face already showed concern. The car in front of them was getting closer and closer and the line for the inspection was getting shorter. “Don't panic Judge Hayes. We will find a way out.” "Don't panic you say?!" she shouted angrily. "Of course I panicked. What if they catch me here with you. My career will end and worst of all I will also go to prison for helping a killer escape from law enforcement officers." Hazel’s hysterical was really annoying. He felt like he wanted to duct tape over Hazel's lips and