Chapter 1 - Chapter 01

My interest in writing this was sparked off by another author. I'm a fan of SSJ Lone Wolf's stories and they mentioned interest in wanting to do a Halo/Rookie story. I'd never seen Brooklyn 99 before I started reading their story "The Demon Of The Nine-Nine". I got interested in watching the show because of reading their fic. As their interest in doing the crossover became intent, I decided to go and watch The Rookie. I like the show, I like the characters. Angela is my favorite hands down. So, as time went on and SSJ Lone Wolf talked about where their story might start from, I started getting ideas of my own. Initially, it was nothing serious, just some casual plotting. However, my boredom from rebuilding the outlines for my other stories made the idea rattle around in my head until it evolved into the story I ended up writing. If you've ever read one of SSJ Lone Wolf's stories, you'll instantly recognize the name Jericho Reach. I used the same name as a sort of tribute to how much I've enjoyed their stories as well. Let me know what you think and enjoy.

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It was the apocalypse, or at least that's what it felt like to him. The skies over Reach were ablaze with the fiery remains of shattered spacecraft, and the ground shook with the relentless bombardment from Covenant artillery. The crack in his visor ran through the middle of his line of sight, but it did little to diminish his aim as he unleashed a hailstorm of bullets from his MA37 Assault Rifle. On and on, more of the aliens came. They looked like a wave that had no end, that they would just keep coming until they buried him beneath their weight.

But he was a Spartan and Spartans don't quit.

His rifle spat its last round, and the click of an empty magazine echoed in his ears. There was no time to reload; the enemy was too close, too relentless. He flipped the weapon around and smashed it across the face of a Covenant Elite, shattering the alien's jaw. A kick to the back of the knee brought it down to the ground. He drew his combat knife and he plunged it into the base of the alien's skull, killing it instantly. He intercepted the overhand swing of an Energy Sword from another Covenant Elite, deflecting it to bisect a Grunt that attempted to attack him from behind before he drove his knife into the Elite's exposed neck. The creature gurgled and collapsed, but there was no time to savor the victory.

His movements became a blur, a lethal dance for survival as he took on each enemy with a ferocity born of pure desperation. For a moment, it actually seemed as though he could hold the line, that he could push back the Covenant's tide of destruction, but a searing agony in his chest showed the truth. Looking down he saw the glowing blade of a Covenant Energy Dagger protruding out the front of his chest.

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Jericho bolted upright in bed, his breath ragged and body slick with sweat as his head whipped back and forth looking for any enemies hiding in the shadows. It took a moment for his brain to register that he wasn't on a battlefield fighting for his life. The acrid stench of smoke and blood was gone, replaced with the faint scent of detergent from his sheets. He let out a slow breath as he looked over at the glowing red numbers of the alarm clock on the nightstand next to his bed.

5:17 AM

Jericho ran a hand down his face, wiping away the sweat clinging to his skin. The dream never changed, and neither did the way it left him feeling afterward: adrenaline pumping, heart pounding, body tense, and ready for a fight that would never come. He exhaled slowly as he pushed away the lingering remnants of the nightmare. It was always the same. His last stand. The moment everything went black. The moment he died.

Or at least that's what should have happened.

Instead, he woke up here. Earth. The early 21st century. A world untouched by the Covenant and potential extinction. A world where humanity still had a future. He threw his covers off and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared down at the floor.

"You're up early again." the voice of a woman commented.

Lifting his head up, Jericho eyeballed the black mini speaker sitting on the bedside table. He turned his head to glance at the security camera installed in the corner of his bedroom before returning his focus to the speaker.

"It was just a bad dream, Dot. Nothing to be concerned about."

"I beg to differ, but I'm not going to argue with you. I know how you Spartans are with keeping up your appearances of invulnerability." Dot replied.

"Well, I do have you to look after me." Jericho replied.

When he'd first woken up after his death, Jericho-B312 had been utterly lost, confused over his unexplained survival and transportation to a world so different from the one he had died fighting for. But Dot had been there. Whatever anomaly had brought him here had brought the AI along as well, his one constant. Only now, she was more. The same phenomena that had brought him back from the darkness of death had... evolved her. He didn't know what to classify her as, but she seemed to become less stilted more... human. In time, the UNSC AI had become more than just a battlefield assistant to him. She was his friend. In many ways, he felt like Dot was the anchor that kept him from feeling completely cast adrift in this strange new life.

Jericho rose from the bed and walked into the bathroom, flipping on the light. The sudden glare was a sharp contrast to the darkened bedroom, causing him to squint and blink several times before his eyes quickly adjusted.

"And I should get a raise for doing such a good job of it. I would have torn my hair out by now if I had any to tear out." Dot mused from another mini speaker, this one inside the bathroom and just one of the dozens placed or installed throughout the house.

He smirked in amusement at the comment as he looked at the face staring back at him from the mirror. Short-cropped dark hair, a jawline sharp enough to cut steel, and brown eyes that had seen far too much. It was him; only now was there a difference. There were no scars. All the battles he'd fought, all the enemies he had taken on, they'd eventually make their mark on him. Usually, it was in the form of a new scar being added to his growing collection. Now, however, the skin was perfect. Not a single blemish. No marks. No wounds.

No reminders.

"I wouldn't know what to do with myself without you." Jericho replied as he moved away from the mirror and turned on the shower.

"You would probably go insane. You need a voice of reason in your life, and you certainly don't seem capable of finding anyone else." Dot said, 'hinting' once again that she felt that Jericho needed to start socializing with people more.

"Not this again." Jericho muttered under his breath, but the extremely sensitive mics picked up his comment all the same.

"Yes, this." Dot fired back. "You can't just sit in this house building models or tinkering with that hunk of junk in your garage for the rest of your life. Go out, make some friends, ... get laid."

Jericho sighed as he stripped off his underwear and grabbed a hand towel out of the bathroom's linen closet. He stepped into the still-warming shower and started washing himself. "I don't just sit in the house by myself."

"Oh?" Dot sounded skeptical. "So when's the last time you had a casual conversation with someone that lasted longer than sixty seconds?"

Jericho didn't have an immediate response to that. He just focused on scrubbing his body.

"Uh-huh." Dot said smugly. "It's time for you to lay Spartan-B312 to rest and let 'Jericho Reach' live his life."

Jericho didn't bother to answer her because he knew Dot was right. The mission was over. Hell, between the inconsistencies in known UNSC history and what he and Dot had uncovered doing recon of this time period after they'd first arrived, their mission to protect humanity from the Covenant might never even occur in the first place. He wasn't SPARTAN-B312 anymore. That life was over. He was someone else now.

Jericho Reach wasn't a name that they had just chosen at random. It was a tribute, an acknowledgement of the world he had been born on and a monument to the one where he had lost everything... where THEY had lost everything. When he first arrived, disoriented and out of place, Dot had done what she did best: adapt. Because of the phenomena that had brought them here, the UNSC AI had grown beyond the limits of her original programming, her capabilities expanding in ways even ONI would have never foreseen. They'd survived those first couple of weeks stealing what they could and "acquiring resources" from individuals with ill intent. But while he was busy doing the footwork, Dot was just as busy in the digital realm. As an AI, Dot possessed the ability to manipulate the digital world around her with an efficiency that no system on Earth could ever hope to counter.

She had built a life for him from nothing.

Dot had hacked into government records and woven together an identity so convincing that even the most thorough background checks wouldn't raise a red flag. Birth records, military service, social security; everything he needed to exist in this world as a real person. She had based it on truth where she could, using his actual mission records as a foundation. In this time period, Noble Team had been something different. Not Spartans, but elite special forces. A classified Marine unit, known only in the deepest corridors of the Pentagon, its missions buried under layers of secrecy. Highly skilled, highly decorated, and ultimately, lost in action. Their last mission had seen them all marked KIA... all except for him. The lone survivor.

That part, unfortunately, remained accurate to the truth.

A pension and an honorable discharge completed the identity, providing him a steady income which eventually led to purchasing the house they now reside in. It was enough to convince most that Jericho Reach was simply a soldier coming home after serving his country overseas. He was an only child and an orphan, so they didn't have to worry about questions on that front. A lack of friends could be explained by his move from the East Coast, where he'd been 'born and raised' to now living on the West Coast, Los Angeles to be more specific. That, coupled with a reputation for being quiet and reserved, ensured that most people didn't pry too deeply into his past. They accepted what they saw, a former soldier trying to adjust to civilian life.

For a while, Jericho had tried to live that life.

The novelty of civilian life had been an interesting experience. Grocery shopping, watching television, doing yard work—it was all so normal and mundane. To keep himself occupied during his downtime, he picked up a couple of hobbies. When he felt like staying in, he built dioramas of historical events. Lately, he's had a particular interest in recreating pivotal battles in world history. But on nice days, which California had plenty of, he found himself going out on hikes in Griffith Park. There was just something enjoyable about the rugged trails and sprawling wilderness that spoke to him. It was also one of the few places where he could quiet his mind and find peace.

Dot found the idea of a man whose purpose was to fight battles, finding enjoyment in such simple, tangible activities, rather fascinating.

Unfortunately, the enjoyment of such novel experiences couldn't last forever. He was a creature of purpose, designed for war, a weapon that no longer had a battlefield. He spent his days drifting and his nights plagued by the memories of Reach.

Until the diner.

Dot had originally suggested it as a place for him to dine at because it would help him get used to being around civilians constantly. It worked better than she had hoped for, and in its own way, the little hole-in-the-wall place became his sanctuary. He'd listen in to the conversations around him and allow himself to simply be there. He wasn't sure why, but being there actually helped him feel at ease. Then, one night, masked men burst through the front doors and started waving pistols around, shouting threats. The few patrons inside the restaurant either froze or screamed in panic at the masked intruders. One of the waitresses, a woman named Maria, stood behind the counter, visibly shaking as one of the men aimed his gun at her, demanding money from the register.

As he sat at the counter, watching events unfold, Jericho felt a switch being flipped. After what had seemed like an eternity, SPARTAN-B312 had finally awoken from his long slumber. Familiar instincts bubbled up inside of him as time slowed down, and without hesitation, Jericho reacted.

One moment, he was seated at the counter; the next, he was moving. The first man didn't even see him coming. One of the results of the augmentation process Spartan-III's underwent was them gaining enhanced speed and reflexes that not even the Covent forces could follow, much less a non-augmented human. The first robber was disarmed and thrown into the counter with enough force to rattle the plates on the shelves. The second tried to swing his gun around, but Jericho was already on him, snapping his wrist with a brutal efficiency that sent the weapon clattering to the floor. A swift backhand rendered the second man unconscious. The third managed to fire off a shot, but Jericho was too fast, dodging out of the bullet's path before delivering a strike to the man's throat that left him gasping for air.

By the time the police arrived, it was already over.

The officers had found the would-be robbers groaning on the floor, disarmed and incapacitated, while the customers and employees stood around staring at him. Some from shock, others in awe. Maria was looking at him like he was something ripped straight out of the pages of her favorite romance novel.

The police questioned him and Jericho had been as concise in his answers as possible, sticking to the carefully constructed past Dot had created for him. 'Former military, instincts kicked in' he had told them. They ran his ID, checked his background, and found exactly what they were supposed to: an honorably discharged soldier with a clean record. He wasn't in trouble. If anything, the officers who had responded to the call had been impressed. Before they had left the diner, one of them had even made an offhand remark.

"If you ever get tired of civilian life, you should think about joining the force."

At the time, Jericho had brushed it off. But the idea lingered.

He couldn't fall asleep that night because his mind kept replaying what had happened. Not the actual events themselves, but how they had made him feel.

The moment the guns had been drawn, the moment he had moved, Jericho had felt it again. That clarity, that sense of purpose he had lost. It was like stepping back into a world that finally made sense. And yet, it hadn't been war. He hadn't been the sword, cutting down humanity's enemies. He had been a shield, protecting the people around him.

For the first time in a long time, Jericho had felt... right.

He hadn't decided right then and there, but the thought never really left the back of his mind. Over the next few weeks, he started looking into it. Dot had pulled records, sifted through files, analyzed the LAPD's structure, its recruitment process, everything. The more he read, the more he thought about it. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense.

He couldn't be what he was, but maybe he could be something else.

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Reach shut the water off and stepped out of the shower, a cloud of steam billowing out into the bathroom. He dried off with a towel and walked back into the bedroom, stopping in front of the large dresser. He opened the top drawer and grabbed a white t-shirt, a pair of boxer briefs, and a pair of black socks out of the drawer before he tossed them onto the bed and walked over to the closet where his LAPD patrol blues, freshly laundered and pressed, hung in a clothes bag. Once he had his underwear and shirt on, he went back into the bathroom to finish getting ready.

Today he'd be reporting for his first day at the Mid-Wilshire Patrol Division.

Initially, Reach had been assigned to the LAPD's Central Division after graduating from the academy. It had been... an adjustment.

He quickly learned that while he could easily handle the physical demands of the job with ease, the social aspect was an entirely different battlefield. There were rules here, unspoken ones. Relationship building that mattered just as much as his skills. His original T.O., Officer Cooper, was a cynical man. Years on the job had turned him into a hard man, but it had also given him insight into how to work the streets and the people who walked it. However, before he had the chance to properly settle in, he had been pulled from the rotation and reassigned. Now, he was being reassigned to the Mid-Wilshire Division, filling the spot of another rookie who had washed out of the FTO program.

He wasn't sure what mood that was going to leave his new T.O. in, having to break in another rookie, but he was determined to make the best of the situation.

Once he was fully dressed, Reach gave himself one last lookover in the mirror before grabbing a duffel bag, the clothes bag with his uniform and his keys before leaving the room. He grabbed his Bluetooth headset off the charging station and slipped it into his ear as he headed out the side door, locking it behind him.

Dot's voice crackled softly in his earpiece as he unlocked the doors of his black Ford F-150 and placed his things in the backseat.

"Try not to start a war out there, Spartan."

Jericho smirked as he got inside the truck and turned the ignition. "I'll do my best."

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Mid-Wilshire Patrol Division

Officer Mike Williams stared down at his cup of coffee, unsure as to whether he wanted to drink the scalding hot liquid or pour it out on the floor. The sludge was strong enough to melt through a brick wall, and he had a suspicion that it was the source of the mysterious stain near the back corner of the break room. If he hadn't already drunk two cups this morning, he would have just dumped the whole thing in the trash and ordered himself some Starbucks.

"Excuse me."

Williams glanced up from his cup... then up some more until his eyes were locked with the steely gaze of a man who was just a hair under seven feet tall and built like a brick shit-house. The stranger had dark hair, brown eyes, and a face that was far too handsome for its own good.

"Yeah, hi." Williams said, clearing his throat.

"I'm looking for Captain Andersen's office." the man said in a deep, smooth voice.

"Up the stairs and down the hall. Take a left, you can't miss it." Mike said.

"Thank you." the man replied before moving past the reception desk and toward the main stairs.

Mike watched the man go before shaking his head.

"Man, I do not want to be the guy that makes him chase 'em down."

Walking down the hallway, Reach could hear the bustling noise of the department. People talking, phones ringing, the clacking of computer keys. He passed by a couple of uniformed officers who glanced his way, giving him the once-over. He didn't give it a second thought since it was something he'd grown used to. Even outside their armor, Spartans presented an intimidating figure.

He stopped outside of an office with glass walls. Etched into a placard attached to the glass wall next to the open door was the name 'Captain Zoe Andersen'. Reach knocked on the door to gain her attention before walking inside.

Sitting behind a carefully organized desk was an attractive woman in her mid-to-late 30s. At the sound of his knocking, she looked up from the paperwork in front of her, her eyes instantly locking onto him. For the briefest of moments, Andersen's professional demeanor slipped as her brows lifted in surprise. She had read Reach's file before she'd had him reassigned to her division, but reading something on paper and seeing it in real life were two very different things.

"Wow." she muttered under her breath before recovering almost instantly. She stood, smoothing down her blazer as she studied him. "You must be Jericho Reach."

"Yes, ma'am." Jericho responded, standing at attention.

Andersen tilted her head slightly, taking a step around her desk. Even in heels, she barely came up to his chest. "I read your file, but I wasn't prepared for the full effect." she admitted, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Ex-military, right?"

"Yes, ma'am." he said again, his voice even. "Special operations."

She gave a knowing nod, her keen gaze still assessing him. "That tracks. I'm ex-military as well. Military police. Did a year as Pentagon Police, Criminal Investigation Directorate." Andersen told him.

"A lot of red tape?" Jericho commented, relaxing his stance a little, though his version of 'relaxed' still looked rigid compared to most.

"Oh, god, more than you could imagine. And don't even get me started on the politics." Andersen replied, turning her attention back to her desk, where she picked up one of the folders and started looking through it. "Your file is... impressive... to say the least. Exemplary grades in the academy, top marksmanship scores, commendations from all of your instructors; you were just the model recruit, weren't you? No wonder Central wanted to get their hands on you." Flipping to another page, Andersen found the part of Reach's personnel file she was really interested in. "Back in October of 2017, you were involved in stopping an armed robbery, correct?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"According to the report, you engaged three suspects who were all armed with firearms, then proceeded to disarm and take down all three of them with only a single shot being fired." Andersen paused, her eyes flickering up from the file and back to the man standing in front of her. "Why did you engage them?"

"It was the right thing to do, ma'am." Jericho explained. "People were in danger, and the suspects had their weapons already drawn. All three individuals were behaving in a highly agitated manner. They were acting too off-kilter for it to be simple nerves. I assumed that they were under the influence of an illicit substance, which drastically raised the potential danger to the people in the diner that night."

Andersen closed the file, holding it against her chest.

"You were right about their state of mind." Andersen said. "Their toxicology report showed elevated levels of amphetamines. They had been on a two-day meth binge before they tried robbing that diner. It's a miracle that nobody was seriously hurt." She was silent for a moment, thinking. "This is going to be a different kind of experience for you." Andersen continued. "The LAPD isn't the battlefield and you aren't a soldier anymore. I expect discipline, restraint, and good judgment from my officers. Especially from someone with your experience. I personally requested your transfer to this division, so I need your best."

"You'll get that from me, ma'am." Jericho assured her.

"Good." Andersen smiled. "Roll call is in fifteen minutes. Go get yourself into uniform. Sergeant Grey is a stickler for punctuality."

"Understood, Captain" Jericho replied.

As he turned to leave, Andersen called after him, "And Reach?"

He stopped, glancing back.

"Try not to accidentally break any of the perps, would you? The paperwork is a pain in the ass."

Reach nodded, a tiny smile tugging at his lips as he continued on his way.

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Later

With the enhancements granted to him from the augmentations, the low murmurs of conversation reached his ears before he even stepped inside. The briefing room was already half-filled with officers preparing for roll call. Some were leaning against the walls, sipping coffee, while others flipped through their notebooks or checked their gear. As he entered the room, the reactions were almost immediate. Conversations dipped into hushed whispers as eyes subtly, or not so subtly, shifted in his direction.

Officers Angela Lopez and Talia Bishop were busy gossiping, as friends were known to do, when Angela spotted Jericho approaching through the briefing room's glass walls. She'd instantly forgotten what they were talking about as she stared at the giant wearing a long-sleeved uniform walking into the room. Talia turned to look at what had her friend's attention and became just as dumbstruck as the Latina was.

"Holy shit! I didn't know cops came in that size." Angela whispered, leaning towards her friend.

"I bet he could bench press one of the shops, no problem." Talia replied, her eyes lingering on Jericho's muscular form just a little longer than appropriate.

"He can bench press me anytime he wants." Angela admitted, getting a playful elbow from Talia

They weren't the only ones surprised by his unexpected appearance. However, in the case of John Nolan and Lucy Chen, it wasn't his stature that had surprised them, but they hadn't expected their 'friend' and former classmate to be working alongside them at their division.

Seeing the only two faces familiar to him at the front of the room, Jericho walked over and took the empty seat next to Nolan.

"John. Lucy." Jericho said in greeting before he pulled out his notepad and pen to take notes.

"What the hell are you doing here?" John whispered, leaning slightly toward Reach with an incredulous look on his face.

Lucy leaned around Nolan to look at Jericho. "Yeah. The Last I heard, you were down at Central. What happened?"

"I was reassigned." Jericho told them. "Apparently, Captain Andersen had me transferred here at her request."

"But why?" Lucy questioned.

Before they could say anything else, another figure walked into the briefing room with Captain Andersen following behind him. The murmurs immediately died down as Sergeant Wade Grey made his way to the podium, setting down a folder and surveying the room with his ever-critical gaze.

"Alright, listen up!" Grey barked, his voice carrying through the room. "We've got a lot to cover today, so let's get started. First off, we-" he paused as his eyes landed on Reach. His gaze lingered for a long second before he exhaled sharply through his nose. "As you all can see, we've got a new addition joining us. Officer Reach, right?"

Jericho stood, standing at attention. "Yes, Sergeant."

Reach squinted at him, then shook his head slightly. "Damn, son. Where did they find you, in a comic book?" A few chuckles rippled through the room, but Grey didn't let it linger. "Alright, well, we'll see what you're made of soon enough. Have a seat."

Reach sat back down, but before Grey could continue the briefing, Lucy raised her hand to ask a question.

"Sir, where is Officer West? Shouldn't he be here for roll call?

Grey didn't look up from his notes as he answered. "Officer West is no longer assigned to this division. There were deficiencies in his training that his T.O. couldn't overlook." Grey placed his notes down before he looked around at the officers gathered in that room. "When you're out in the field, anything can happen. Nothing you can do will change that. What you can do is control how you respond during those situations. We deal in life or death decisions, and we don't get the luxury of second-guessing ourselves or hesitating." Sgt. Grey was speaking to the group of officers as a whole, but both Nolan and Lucy felt like he was really addressing the three of them. When his eyes fell back on them, she knew it was. "West was good on paper, but exams and academy training cannot prepare you for the realities of the dangers we face in the streets, Officer Chen."

"Just for clarification, Sir, who's Officer Reach's new T.O.?" Angela asked with a teasing smile on her face as Talia rolled her eyes in response.

"Seeing as how you're the one down a rookie, Lopez, I figure I'd give him to you. Try to keep this one for longer than a couple of days. Are there any other questions?" Grey paused to see if there was anyone else silly enough to interrupt him, but there were no more takers. "Good. Let's move on."

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15 Minutes Later

"So, Officer Lopez, anything I should be made aware of before we head out?" Jericho asked as he effortlessly carried both of the gear toward their assigned patrol car.

Angela gave him a sideways glance. "Yeah. I don't care how big you are, you listen to me. Out there, I am the only voice you listen to. You do what I say, when I say it. Got it?"

"Understood, ma'am" Jericho replied without hesitation.

Angela nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Good. Now, because of what happened with my last boot, I'm throwing you into the deep end. I need to know you can handle this job before I can trust you to have my back when it really counts. So today, we get proactive, take all the high-risk calls and see how you do."

"Yes, ma'am." he replied, not even a hint of fear or concern.

Angela gave him a curious glance. "Not worried, huh? No concerns that you might get your head blown off by some tweaker hopped up on bath salts?"

"Not particularly, ma'am."

"Alright, tough guy. We'll see." she replied before getting in the patrol car on the driver's side.

Reach loaded up the gear in the trunk of the vehicle before walking around to the passenger seat and getting in. As they pulled out onto the streets of Los Angeles, Lopez took the opportunity to get to know the mystery that was her new rookie.

"Alright, Reach, tell me about yourself. I like to know who I'm riding with."

Jericho kept his eyes sweeping the streets, taking everything in, as they drove by. "Not much to tell. Former military. Got out. Civilian life got to be too quiet for me after a while. I still wanted to make a difference in the world and I figured this was the best way to do it."

"There's a lot of ways you could help people besides becoming a cop." Angela replied.

"Actually, the idea to become a police officer was sort of given to me. I didn't come up with it on my own."

Angela raised a curious brow. "Oh yeah? Who put the idea in your head?"

"Another LAPD officer." Jericho answered. "It was an offhand comment he made while he was taking my statement about an armed robbery I was involved in stopping. It stuck with me.

Angela glanced at him, intrigued. "Wait, back up. You stopped an armed robbery?"

Jericho nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Angela let out a small laugh. "Okay, now you have to tell me the story."

Jericho hesitated for a second before exhaling. "I was having dinner one night when three armed men entered the diner. They demanded cash from the register and from the other customers. I wasn't informed of this until this morning, but all three of them were under the effects of methamphetamine. The guy holding up the cash register was getting antsy and looked like he was about to start shooting, so I took action."

Angela gave him an incredulous look. "And by 'took action' you mean...?"

"I engaged the three of them before they could pose a threat to the civilians in the diner and disarmed them through various means."

"You took down three armed men... on your own, while unarmed." Angela stated, more as a fact than a question.

"That's correct, ma'am."

"Pretty badass, boot." Angela admitted. "I might have just lucked out when Grey assigned me to be your new T.O."

"Thank you, ma'am." Jericho replied.

Lopez glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of her lip. The radio crackled, cutting off the conversation as a dispatcher's voice filtered over the radio.

"Wilshire units, 211 in progress at 300 North Fairfax. The suspects are two male Caucasians wearing dark-colored clothing."

Their shop was already headed north on Fairfax, but before either of them had the chance to figure out their proximity to the location of the armed robbery, a black four-door sedan pulled away from the curb in front of them, slamming into the side of a passing minivan before gunning it down the street. Lopez quickly swerved to avoid a collision.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." she muttered. "Light 'em up!"

Reach flipped the lights and sirens as the senior officer pressed her foot against the gas pedal, picking up speed to pursue the fleeing suspects. The suspect vehicle weaved in and out of traffic, trying to lose them, but Lopez's experience behind the wheel was a force to be reckoned with.

"Dispatch, 7-Adam-07 in pursuit of the suspect vehicle. The vehicle is a black Mercedes-Benz E320. No license plate." Jericho relayed to dispatch as Lopez pushed the patrol car harder to close the distance.

The suspect vehicle swerved wildly through traffic, clipping another vehicle's bumper and nearly sending itself into a spin. The driver overcorrected, tires screeching as they barely regained control of the car. Lopez stayed on their tail, keeping pace as they sped through the streets of Los Angeles.

"They're gonna eat shit if they keep driving like that." she muttered, eyes flicking between the road and her mirrors.

"Agreed." Jericho responded calmly, watching their every move.

A few moments later, her prediction was proven correct after the driver of the suspects' vehicle made a sharp right turn going too fast. The driver lost control, the back end fishtailing before they crashed hard into the front of a parked truck. The two suspects, dazed but still desperate, kicked open their doors and started fleeing the scene on foot. Before Lopez even had the patrol car at a full stop, Jericho was already throwing the door open and moving.

"Hey!" Angela snapped, caught off guard as he bolted out. She grabbed the radio as she maneuvered their patrol car to continue the pursuit. "Be advised, Officer Reach is now in foot pursuit of both suspects, heading eastbound on Oakwood." Angela called into the radio.

Meanwhile, Jericho was closing in fast on the fleeing suspects. His augmented reflexes and strength made him a predator in this kind of chase and though he wasn't going the top speed he was capable of, the outcome was already a foregone conclusion. The two men threw desperate glances over their shoulders, their eyes widening as they realized how quickly he was gaining on them. The taller of the two robbers shoved a pedestrian into Reach's path to slow him down, but Jericho sidestepped effortlessly, catching the older man by the arm to steady him before pushing forward without losing much speed. The second man knocked over a trash can, but the Spartan leaped over it without even breaking his stride.

Lopez saw them cut through an alley and knew she'd have to go around the block to intercept.

"Cutting them off at Oakwood and Genesee!" she radioed in, swinging the patrol car into a tight turn.

She punched the accelerator as she raced down the block to cut off their escape. Arriving a few seconds later, the patrol car skidded to a halt at the mouth of the alley, and Angela was already stepping out of the car with her weapon drawn as she scanned the scene. What she found was her rookie standing calmly over both suspects, his sidearm leveled at them.

"On the ground! Now!" he barked.

The two men, panting and exhausted, had no fight left. Especially against someone of Reach's size. They complied immediately, dropping to their knees with their fingers interlocked behind their heads.

Jericho reached up for his mic. "This is 7-Adam-07. Both suspects are in custody at the rear of 132 and a half Oakland."

Angela threw a puzzled look at her rookie as she holstered her weapon and reached for her handcuffs. "132 and a half?"

Jericho shrugged. "It's an appropriate description of our location."

********************************************************************************

After taking the two suspects back to the station and booking them, Lopez and Reach went right back out on patrol. Like she'd promised, the rest of the morning didn't slow down as they went from one high-risk call to another.

A unit had requested back up to a church after a man on PCP had attacked a priest and thrown him through a stained-glass window before proceeding to tear up the place. Lopez eagerly radioed in that they were on their way, interested in seeing how Reach would handle the situation. The man had been big, not as big as Reach, but still huge. Add on the fact that he was also nude and it was understandable why backup had been requested. When she told him to go up to the second floor and handle the perp, Reach did it with the same efficiency as he did anything else. When he got up to where the man was still destroying the church, he at first approached him slowly and tried to present himself as non-threatening as he could. Unfortunately, for someone of Reach's stature, that was an impossibility and the man quickly turned hostile. He took a swing at Reach, but the time-displaced Spartan easily dodged it before delivering a precise strike to the man's neck and hitting him in the Vagus nerve. Even with the drugs in his system, the strike stunned the man long enough for Reach to get him into cuffs.

Lopez was impressed, but she still didn't let him off the hook as once they were done with him, they had to respond to a domestic violence situation between two women at an apartment complex.

The call came in as a simple disturbance, but by the time they had arrived, it had already escalated. The two women were fighting like cats and dogs, pulling hair, scratching, and kicking each other. When the feistier of the two, a redhead, took a swing at Angela when she tried to break it up was the last straw for her. Angela ducked beneath the punch before she used her baton to deliver a quick strike to the woman's leg, dropping her to a knee. From there, it was relatively easy for Angela to get the redhead in cuffs. The calmer of the two women, a blonde and the girlfriend of the redhead, tried to argue for leniency since she was the one in the wrong by getting caught having an affair. Unfortunately, the choice of whether to press charges or not was taken out of her hands once her girlfriend had taken a swing at Lopez.

After booking the redhead for assault, their morning finally wound down enough for a lunch break.

********************************************************************************

Later

Angela let out a long sigh as she stretched behind the steering wheel of their patrol car. "Jesus Christ, what a morning." she muttered. "Feels like we've been running nonstop."

Jericho merely nodded as he continued to observe the scenery as they drove by. "It's been an eventful day so far."

"That's one way to put it." Angela gave him a sideways glance. "You always this calm or are you just trying to be on your best behavior in front of your new T.O.?"

"Being able to maintain your composure during high-stress situations was one of the first things I learned how to do back when I was in the military." Reach replied simply.

Angela shook her head, smirking. "Well, I think you've earned a little leeway for now, so I'll be nice and let you pick where we get something to eat."

"There's a diner not far from here," Reach said. "Good food, good service."

Angela arched an eyebrow. "A diner? Let me guess, classic greasy spoon, same waitress every time, and they know your order by heart?"

"Correct." Jericho finally admitted after a brief pause.

She snorted. "Of course. You probably sit in the same damn seat every time too."

Before Reach could respond, an ice cream truck shot out from a side street, blowing through a stop sign right in front of them. His enhanced reflexes were the only thing that kept the two vehicles from colliding as the squad car swerved to the right, narrowly avoiding being hit. The truck didn't slow down. Instead, it kept swerving across both sides of the street, forcing oncoming vehicles to move out of the way or risk getting hit.

"Driver's all over the place." Angela muttered, grabbing the radio. "Dispatch, 7-Adam-07. We have a reckless driver, a possible DUI, headed southbound on Plymouth Boulevard towards Henry Park. The vehicle is an... ice cream truck."

"Vehicle is a what?" the dispatcher responded, a hint of disbelief in her tone.

"A white box truck with pictures of ice cream cones and cotton candy painted on the side." Angela repeated.

As the truck tried to make a right turn, it jumped the curb entirely before crashing into a line of bushes in front of a small neighborhood park and finally coming to a stop.

Lopez pulled their patrol to a stop and both officers exited the vehicle, weapons drawn, and cautiously approached the ice cream truck. There was no movement from inside until a man's head popped into view in the concession window. He was thin, early thirties, and looked scared out of his mind. His arms shot up as he frantically waved them.

"It wasn't me! I wasn't the one driving!" the man shouted.

Angela didn't lower her weapon. "Step out of the truck. Slowly."

There was a moment of hesitation, nervous at having weapons pointed at him, before he hoisted himself up and clumsily climbed through the concession window, dropping to the pavement with his hands still raised.

"Face the truck." Angela ordered, stepping forward. "Hands behind your head."

The man complied with her order, turning around so that his back was facing her. As she moved in to cuff him, Jericho headed straight for the driver's side door. Climbing up on the step to get a look inside, he spotted someone lying on the floor inside the cab.

"7-Adam-07. Requesting an ambulance at Plymouth and Francis Avenue." Jericho radioed in.

"Copy that, 7-Adam-07. EMS are on their way." dispatch responded a few seconds later.

Jericho reached for the door handle and tugged at it, but the door was locked. He searched around the outside to see if there was a way to unlock it, even glancing through the concession window to see if that was viable, but the window was too small for someone his size to fit through. That left the driver's door as the only option. He reached to his side and pulled out his baton.

"Breaking the glass." he warned Angela before he swung the baton.

The safety glass shattered under the powerful blow, and the sound made the man Angela had been questioning jump. Jericho ignored him as he used the end of his baton to sweep away the loose shards so he could reach inside and unlock the door. It took him a moment to locate the release, but once he found the lock, he flicked it open. As he was pulling his arm back, his hand brushed against a jagged shard of glass and he felt it slice into his skin.

"Damnit." he cursed, withdrawing his hand and examining the cut. It wasn't the worst he'd ever received, but the bleeding was noticeable.

"You okay, Reach?" Angela called out.

"It's nothing, ma'am." Jericho replied as he opened the door.

Once he was inside, Jericho realized that it was a young girl he'd seen. Her appearance was quite disheveled, much more than the low-speed impact with the bushes would've caused, but thankfully, she appeared to be uninjured. He assumed that the child must have been thrown forward and knocked unconscious by the sudden stop since she looked like she would only have been barely able to see over the dashboard. He picked her up gently and carried her outside, her body limp in his arms.

Both Angela and the man had looks of surprise at seeing who was actually behind the wheel of the truck.

"Is she okay?" Angela asked.

"It appears that she was thrown from the driver's seat when she ran into the bushes." Reach informed her as he laid the girl down in the grass away from the truck.

********************************************************************************

EMS arrived within a few minutes of Jericho's radioing in. He'd directed them to check on the girl to make sure that she would be alright. After the girl had woken up and EMS confirmed that she would be fine, they'd taken him back to the ambulance so that his cut could be properly cleaned and bandaged. He'd been told that he should head to the hospital to have it properly stitched, but he declined. Right now, he was more interested in finding out why the girl had stolen the truck in the first place.

"I think you're gonna need stitches there, boot." Angela remarked, nodding at the gash on his palm.

"I'll be fine, ma'am." he insisted as he looked at the student ID in his hand.

Angela rolled her eyes. "Fine. Don't listen. But like my mom used to say, 'A hard head makes a soft ass'." She looked to see him staring down at the school ID he was holding in his hand and held out her own to ask for it. Reach handed it over without protest. "Kelly Moore. 8th grade." she read aloud. She glanced at the man they'd initially assumed was responsible for the out-of-control truck, who was busy restocking everything that had gotten knocked over during the crash. "Why the hell is a 13-year-old driving an ice cream truck?"

The frustrated owner of the vehicle sighed before putting the box of ice cream sandwiches on the concession window shelf. "Like I said before, I don't know. I was parked over on 3rd Avenue by Watson Elementary. I closed down for ten minutes to restock, and then the next thing I knew, I was getting tossed around the back of my truck.

"What, you just leave it running?" Angela

"After I start it in the morning, it goes for the rest of the day." the man said in growing frustration. "I'm the victim here, remember? Do you have any idea how much money I'm going to lose behind this? These things are five bucks a pop." The man picked up a box of ice cream sandwiches and waved them in front of Reach and Lopez's faces for emphasis.

"Five bucks?" Angela said, raising an eyebrow.

The man let out a huff. "A heat like today means a boom in business. Now, I want that little bitch arrested for stealing my truck and damaging my property."

Lopez frowned at the language the man was directing toward the kid, but it was quickly replaced by a sly smile as she started looking around at all the boxes of ice cream still lying on the ground.

"Sure, sir. We can do that." she said with a smile, before walking over to the truck and grabbing the stack of boxes off the window shelf. "However, I'm afraid we're going to need to take some of these as evidence. Reach?"

"Understood." Jericho replied before grabbing as many of the boxes off the ground as he could.

The man's mouth made its best impression of a fish as he could only watch as the two walked away with arms full of merchandise.

********************************************************************************

Later

While their coworkers were enjoying the unexpected treats, Reach and Lopez sat across from Kelly Moore and her father, David, in one of the station's small interrogation rooms. The girl, arms wrapped around her and eyes locked on the scratched-up tabletop, refused to meet their gazes. She hadn't said much since being brought in, just confirmed her name and that, yes, she had stolen the ice cream truck. She gave no further explanation nor apology.

Her father, however, had plenty to say.

"This is ridiculous." David Moore, a broad-shouldered man with graying hair and a permanent scowl, said for the third time in as many minutes. "Kelly wouldn't steal an ice cream truck. She isn't even allowed to eat ice cream."

Angela drummed her fingers on the table. "Mr. Moore, we found your daughter behind the wheel of-"

"Then somebody put her up to it." Moore interrupted. "Like that one girl she is always hanging around with, the one whose mom lets her put piercings in her ears."

Jericho watched Kelly closely as her father spoke. Her posture was stiff, shoulders drawn in tight, but it was her face that told him the most. She tried to keep it neutral, but all the little microexpressions were telling a story.

"I don't know. I don't remember."

Jericho leaned forward slightly, watching her reaction. "Kelly, what about your feet? Do you remember how you got tar on them?"

Kelly's grip tightened on her arms before she shook her head 'No', Reach didn't buy it for a second. The only thing he couldn't figure out was why. If things stayed the way they currently looked, they might have to press charges for grand theft and destruction of city property. There was more going on here and he needed to know what that was.

"Mr. Moore, maybe your wife has some idea about-"

"My wife is gone." Moore said abruptly, but the look on his face softened as he looked down at his daughter. "It's just the two of us now."

Reach and Lopez exchanged glances, unsure of how to proceed. It was clear they weren't going to get anything else out of Kelly with her father looming over her, but she was the only one who knew the full story.

Reach excused himself and went looking for Sgt. Grey. After a few minutes of searching, he found him talking with Captain Andersen in her office. He leaned against the wall to wait for their conversation to be done, but it was hard for a Spartan to get lost in the crowd. He'd only been waiting for a couple of minutes before he heard someone knocking on the glass. When he looked up, he saw that it was Sgt. Grey, who had gotten his attention, as Captain Andersen waved at him to come in.

"Sir. Ma'am." he greeted as he stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

"What can we do for you, Officer Reach?" Andersen asked, leaning back in her chair.

Jericho got straight to the point. "It's about the girl Officer Lopez and I brought in, the one who stole the ice cream truck. Something's off."

"'Off'? In what way?" Grey asked.

"Something about her story doesn't add up." Jericho said. "She's sticking to the claim that she stole the truck just because, but her body language tells a different story. Refusal to make eye contact, she flinched when I asked how the tar got on her feet, and tightened up whenever her father spoke. She's hiding something, and I think it's got more to do with him than she's letting on."

Grey exhaled sharply. "You think he's abusing her?"

Jericho hesitated. "No, sir, I don't believe so. The way he talks about her and their relationship, it sounds like he's very overprotective. I believe that it's a side effect of losing his wife. No, I think Kelly is afraid to tell him the truth about what really happened."

Grey and Andersen shared a look before turning their attention back to Jericho.

"Okay." Grey said. "How do you want to proceed?"

"The owner of the truck said that he had been parked on 3rd Avenue by Watson Elementary to restock. I want to go over there and check it out, see if anyone can remember seeing Kelly in the area." Reach explained. "If they did, maybe they could lead us to where she was coming from. According to Kelly, she was playing in Hawley Park before she stole the truck. The two locations aren't exactly across the street from one another, but they are relatively close when it comes to walking distance."

Andersen tapped a pen against her desk as she thought about it. "What do we do about the girl while you're out there trying to figure out what she was doing?"

"We are allowed to hold a suspect in custody for 48 hours before we have to charge them." Grey pointed out. "She already confessed to stealing it. We keep her and her dad here at the station while Lopez and Reach try to figure out what the kid is hiding."

Andersen nodded. "I agree. Go ahead and see what you can find."

"Yes, ma'am." Jericho said with a nod before exiting the room and returning to where he'd left Angela.

She was standing outside the interrogation room chatting with Officer Talia Bishop. The two women looked up as he approached, Bishop giving him a quick nod before excusing herself. Angela turned to Jericho, arms crossed, an eyebrow raised.

"So?" she asked.

"We're heading over to where Kelly stole the truck from. Canvas the area and see if anyone remembers seeing her." Jericho said. "Captain Andersen and Sgt. Grey said that they'll keep Kelly and her father in the meantime while we head over to where she stole the truck from and check things out."

"Alright then, let's go." Angela said before heading towards the doors.

Jericho followed her out of the building and into the afternoon sun. As they got into the patrol car, he had the nagging feeling that whatever they were about to find, it wouldn't be something as simple as a joyride in a stolen ice cream truck.

********************************************************************************

Things were quiet as Lopez drove them to the location the owner of the ice cream truck had provided for where he'd been parked when Kelly had stolen the vehicle. They hoped they could find someone who recognized Kelly from their photo and could tell them where they saw her coming from, since where the truck had been parked and the direction Kelly would have traveled to get to Hawley Park were in opposite directions. Unfortunately, things could never be that simple.

"Wilshire units, we have a 911 call for shots fired at an apartment complex at 8011 8th Ave. Shots fired. Caller is named Angela Williamson and lives in apartment 107."

"That's on the way." Reach said, already reaching for the radio. "Dispatch, mark 7-Adam-07 as responding."

Angela flipped on the sirens, making a sharp turn onto 8th Avenue as they sped toward the apartment complex.

"I hate these kinds of calls." Angela muttered, gripping the wheel tighter. "Could be nothing, could be a goddamn war zone."

Jericho nodded. "Stay sharp."

A few minutes later, they pulled up to the apartment complex, a run-down three-story building with faded beige paint and rusted metal fixtures. Angela killed the sirens and the lights as they stepped out of the patrol car. Jericho took the lead, his ingrained training having him scan their immediate area for any potential threats.

"Dispatch, 7-Adam-07 on the scene, Crestview Apartments. Responding to shots fired." Lopez reported on her radio as she and Jericho moved toward the entrance with their hands on their weapons. "Keep your eyes up, boot. You never know what might be coming out of these windows."

Before they could get to the front entrance, an African American woman in her late 30s ran out. She had on a white tank top and pink shorts and was carrying a small child in her arms. The woman looked panicked rather than frightened.

"Please!" she exclaimed as she rushed over towards them.

"Stop!" Angela yelled before they both drew their firearms.

"N-No, you got to help me!" the woman stammered. "It's my daughter-"

"Your daughter's been shot?!"

"No, she's gone." the woman replied. "She was supposed to be home by now."

Lopez's eyebrow furrowed. "There are no gunshots?"

"No, it's Alicia. She's missing." Mrs. Williamson explained.

Angela exhaled slowly as she and Reach holstered their weapons. "Let me get this straight, you reported gunshots being fired because you can't find your daughter?!"

"I-I didn't know what else to do." the distraught mother pleaded. "I mean, you cops never come out here unless you have to.

Angela's jaw clenched as Jericho reached up for his radio. "Dispatch, this is Reach, 7-Adam-07. Disregard shots fired, cancel all units."

"Copy, 7-Adam-07." the dispatcher said over the radio.

"Please, you have to help me!" Mrs. Williamson protested.

"How old is your daughter?" Angela asked as Jericho took out his notebook and pen.

"Alicia's 13 years old." Mrs. Williamson answered.

"How long has it been since she was supposed to return home?" Jericho asked.

Mrs. Williamson clutched her younger child closer, her voice trembling "A little over an hour and a half."

"Do you have a picture of your daughter, ma'am?" Angela inquired.

"Um, y-yeah." Mrs. Williamson replied before she went back inside. A few minutes later, she returned holding a picture in her hand.

Alicia was a slim girl with brown skin, long, dark, curly hair, and a bright smile. In the school photo, she wore a pink unicorn hoodie and jeans.

"Have you tried looking around the neighborhood for her yet?" Angela asked.

"I-I've been looking everywhere, but my son is only a year old and with this heat, I had to come back in case she came home on her own." Mrs. Williamson said, her voice cracking.

Reach studied the picture, committing Alicia's face to memory before passing the photo over to Lopez for her to look at.

"Well, it's only been a little while. Maybe she's at one of her friends' houses." Angela offered as a possible explanation for Alicia's absence.

Mrs. Williamson shook her head. "Alicia doesn't have a lot of friends. She's... quiet, you know. Really shy. Besides, her father and I always taught Alicia to get in touch with one of us first before she EVER made a change in plans. That way, we would always have an idea of where she is. Especially after a couple of girls went missing last summer."

Angela looked down at the photo again before handing it back to the mother. "Okay, so the last time you saw her was this morning before she left."

Mrs. Williamson nodded. "She begged me to go, but with my son being sick and this heat, I mean, it's only a couple blocks away."

Jericho exchanged a glance with Angela before turning back to the anxious mother. "What's only a couple of blocks away? Where did she want to go?"

"Hawley Park." Mrs. Williamson answered. "You know, the one with that big castle thing for the kids to climb on."

"Did you say 'Hawley Park'?" Jericho asked.

"Yes." the mother answered. "Why? Is that important?"

"No, we just wanted to be certain of where we needed to start looking for Alicia." Angela answered quickly.

Jericho excused himself as he walked away to put some distance between them as Angela continued to speak to Alicia's mother. Pulling out his phone, he turned it on and started brushing his thumb across the smartphone's multiple home screens until it landed on a screen that had only a single app icon on it, which had the image of a grid of glowing blue lights. After a quick look around to make sure no one was watching him, he pushed his thumb down on the icon. The grid-like image expanded, covering the entire screen before disappearing and was replaced by the words, 'Secure Connection Established' in white lettering.

"Dot, I need you to get me in touch with John Nolan." Jericho ordered.

"Connecting you to his cellular device now." the A.I. replied.

A few seconds later, Reach heard a click as the call connected.

"Hello? This is Nolan."

"John, it's Jericho." he said softly.

"Oh, hey. What's up?" John said, sounding a little surprised. "Wait, how did you get my phone number?"

"That doesn't matter right now." Jericho dismissed. "Look, I need a favor. I need you to go and talk to Kelly Moore. There might be another kid missing."

"Another one?" John repeated. "I thought the little girl just stole an ice cream truck."

"A girl named Alicia Williamson was supposed to go and play in Hawley Park, but she never returned home." Jericho explained. "According to Alicia's mother, last summer, two girls went missing from this same neighborhood. Kelly, Alicia, and the two missing girls all share similar features and ages."

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Nolan spoke again. "You think Kelly's joyride was more than just that?"

"I think Kelly was running from something." Jericho said flatly. "Whether it was from something she saw or something that happened to her, I don't for sure yet, but Kelly might have valuable intel we need to know."

"Got ya." John replied. "I'll call you back when I have something."

"Thank you, John." Jericho replied before he ended the call and tucked his phone away.

After they finished getting Mrs. Williamson's statement, Lopez and Reach got back in their patrol car and headed for Hawley Park. When they arrived, they were happy to see that it was still fairly busy. Families enjoying the warm weather, kids running around the playground, and a few groups of teenagers loitering near the picnic tables and benches. With so many people still around, they were hopeful they'd find someone who remembered seeing either Kelly or Alicia around.

They split up and started walking through the park, showing Alicia's photo to people, asking if anyone had seen her or if they remembered seeing anyone standing around an ice cream truck earlier in the day. The responses they got were all some variation of a shoulder shrug or a headshake. After 15 minutes of canvassing the park and finding no new leads, the two of them decided to call it quits for the moment and try a different approach.

"We can't just leave. It's no coincidence that Kelly's theft and Alicia's failure to return home both happened around here." Jericho observed.

"I know." Angela agreed. "But no one we've talked to has seen either one of them. Without something to point us in a direction, we're just spinning our wheels out here.

Jericho frowned. He hated to admit it, but she was right. Right now, they were just wasting time that could be used trying to come up with another lead, but something in his gut wouldn't just let him walk away. As they got to their patrol car, he gave a look back over the park, noticing something he hadn't when they'd first arrived.

"Hang on." Jericho said suddenly.

"What is it?" Angela asked.

"Do you remember the tar that Kelly had on the bottom of her feet when we'd brought her in?"

Angela nodded. "Yeah, I remember. Why?"

"What do you see over there?" Reach asked, pointing.

Lopez turned her head in the direction he was pointing to and spotted the parking lot for a rec center. Just another building, like any other in the neighborhood, but this one had a detail the rest of them were lacking. In the rec center's parking lot, a large portion of its space had been sectioned off because a fresh layer of tar had been applied to its surface to seal any cracks.

The two shared a quick glance before they started walking across the street and over to the rec center's parking lot.

"This was put down today." Jericho observed as he tapped his foot on the still-sticky black surface.

The two started looking around the outside of the building for a way in when they eventually found the main entrance. The place didn't look like it was open, with its double glass doors covered up with plywood, but one of the doors had its glass busted out.

"That doesn't look suspicious." Angela joked as Jericho knelt down and examined the glass.

'Most of this glass is on the outside. Someone trying to break into the building should have caused most of it to land inside the door frame.' Jericho thought.

Reach stood back up and tried the handle. Surprisingly, the door was already unlocked and the two walked inside. They saw that the front desk was unoccupied, but with many of the lights near the main entrance turned off, that wasn't so unexpected.

"7-Adam-7, show us Code 6 at the Ballard Rec Center." Jericho radioed in.

"Hello?" Angela called out. "Anybody here?"

When no one answered, they walked further into the building and started making their way down the nearest hall. They pulled out their flashlights and shone them through each door as they passed.

"What are we looking for exactly?" Angela whispered.

"Not sure, but whatever it is, we'll know when we find it." Jericho answered.

"Hello? Is anyone here?" Angela tried again.

Still nothing.

They turned a corner and came upon another hallway, this one leading to a staircase going up to the next floor.

Angela nodded toward the staircase. "We'll cover more ground if we split up. I'll check the first floor. You take upstairs."

Jericho hesitated for a fraction of a second before giving a short nod. "Be careful."

"Back at you." she replied before heading off.

********************************************************************************

Mid-Wilshire Police Division

While Lopez and Reach were canvassing Hawley Park and interviewing the people there, Nolan was back at the station looking for Kelly Moore and her father. He eventually found the two of them walking out of the break room, headed up the steps leading to the main entrance. He jogged over to catch up to them before they could leave.

"Hey, uh, Mr. Moore." John called out. "Sorry, could I have a minute?"

Kelly's father stopped on the steps and turned, a tired frown creasing his forehead. "Officer, we've been here for two hours. I'd like to take my daughter home."

"I know and I'm really sorry about that." John replied, keeping his tone polite and friendly. "We just need you to fill out some child services forms at the front desk."

"Child services?"

"Yes, sir. It's just a formality. Whenever we bring in an unaccompanied minor, we have to report it." John said with his most reassuring smile. "It'll only take a few minutes, I promise."

Moore sighed before nodding in resignation. "Fine." he replied before turning to his daughter. "I'll be right back."

"Absolutely, sir." John agreed as he pointed him in the direction of the front desk.

Once her father was out of earshot, Nolan turned to Kelly, his expression softening. "Hey, Kelly. How are you holding up?"

She shrugged, avoiding eye contact. "Okay, I guess."

"Look, I know this has been a rough day," Nolan continued, keeping his voice gentle. "But I need to ask you some more questions. It's important."

"Listen. My friends, they think they know why you stole that ice cream truck.

Kelly's eyes widened slightly. "I don't... I don't know. I don't remember."

"Well, they have this idea that you took that truck because you were running away from something." John paused, watching Kelly's reaction. "Did somebody try to hurt you?"

Kelly looked around nervously, searching for any sign of her father. Once she was absolutely certain he wasn't listening in, she looked back at John and nodded her head.

"There's another girl who might be in trouble. I need to know what you know so that we can help her." John told her, his tone low and urgent. "Will you help me, please?"

Kelly hesitated for a moment before shaking her head 'No'.

"Kelly, please?" John pressed.

"If you tell him, he'll never let me outside alone again." she said quietly.

"I won't tell him." John promised. "Kelly, did someone try and take you from Hawley Park?" Kelly nodded her head. "A man?" Again, Kelly nodded. "Okay. Can you tell me what he looked like?"

********************************************************************************

Angela moved cautiously through the first-floor hallway, her flashlight sweeping from side to side as she made her way through the building. She tried a few doors as she went, but most were locked. The few doors that were unlocked just opened up to reveal empty conference rooms and what looked like an old break room. Nothing immediately suspicious.

"I'm not seeing anything down here." Angela asked Reach over the radio. "Any luck on your end?"

"Negative." Jericho replied.

"Alright, meet me back at the front entrance." Angela told him.

"Copy that. I'll do one more sweep on my way back down."

"Alright. See you in a minute."

She turned a corner, leading to the center's gymnasium, when she heard a sound behind her. Spinning around, Angela saw the silhouette of a man walking out of a door she'd just passed. The man's sudden appearance caused her to rest her hand on the butt of her gun as she pointed her flashlight in the man's direction. Suddenly being bathed in light caused the man to stop dead in his tracks and turn to look at her.

"Whoa there!" Angela said in surprise. "LAPD."

The man blinked against the beam of her flashlight, raising one hand to shield his eyes. He was dressed in navy blue coveralls, smudged with grime and sweat, and carrying a toolbox. A maintenance badge hung lopsided from his chest pocket. D. Alvarez, it read.

"Officer, what's, uh, what's going on?" the man said, blinking in surprise.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"David Alvarez. I'm the head of the maintenance crew." the man replied. "You mind not shining that thing directly in my eyes?"

"Sorry about that." Angela apologized as she eyed him for a moment before relaxing and lowering her flashlight. "Did you know one of the windows to your front door was busted open?

David shook his head. "No, ma'am, I didn't. I've been working on the AC system all afternoon. That's why the rec center is closed for the next couple of weeks."

"Well, in the meantime, you might want to get that window replaced." she said as she continued looking around. "You here by yourself?"

"It's just me and a couple of other guys, but they went off to get some replacement parts. I'm the only one here right now." David explained.

"Have you seen or heard anything unusual while you've been here? Anything out of the ordinary."

David shrugged. "No, ma'am."

Angela nodded. She was about to ask David if he'd seen anyone matching Kelly or Alicia's description around the area that day when she heard a strange sound echo faintly through the building.

Clang... clang... clang.

Angela froze mid-question, her head tilting slightly as she tried to identify the noise. "You hear that?"

"Hear what?" David asked, glancing around as if he could see the noise itself.

Angela didn't answer him. She simply held her index finger up in the universal gesture of 'wait a minute' and listened. The noises sounded like metal hitting metal, but where was it coming from? She listened to the rhythmic clanging for a moment before finally realizing the noise was coming from somewhere off to her left.

"That right there." she said, her voice low. "What is that?"

David frowned, his brow furrowed. "I don't know, maybe the pipes? The water cycling through the system can make some weird noises. You should hear the heater when it first kicks on, sounds like the thing is about to take off into space."

Angela wasn't so sure about that. She'd heard the knocking of water going through old pipes and furnace systems long in need of replacement before, this was a distinct, sharp clang, like metal striking metal.

"Yeah, let's open this up." she said, gesturing to the locked door beside her.

David nodded as he set his toolbox down and walked over to the door. He pulled the ring of keys attached to his belt, picked one out, and unlocked the door.

Angela pushed the door open and started walking further down the hallway, this one heading deeper inside the building's interior. Her flashlight continued to sweep from side to side as they went, checking every corner, every vent, every door frame. A couple of minutes later, they heard the sound echo again. Still faint, but louder now. Closer.

"And you're sure there's nobody else here?" Angela asked before she paused and reoriented herself to the noise.

David nodded his head. "Positive. My guys won't be back for a while."

The hallway they were in opened up into the entrance of the rec center's main gym, a wide space dominated by a glossy wooden basketball court and surrounded by bleachers that were folded against the wall. Other than some maintenance equipment left behind on the basketball court, the room was empty.

The moment they stepped inside, the sound rang out again. They knew they were getting closer to its source as the noise was much clearer and louder now.

So much so that its clarity made Angela stop in her tracks.

She swept a careful gaze over the room, scanning for anything out of place. Unfortunately, the room's cluttered state didn't help any. She moved a little further in before the sound hit again. Her head turned sharply, zeroing in on a gray utility door nestled between a storage cabinet and the entrance for the men's locker room on the wall opposite the entrance.

"There." She pointed. "That door."

David looked toward the door she was pointing to. "That leads down to the basement. Water lines, electrical panels, the furnace. Stuff like that."

Angela crossed the basketball court quickly, her footsteps echoing over the hardwood as David started walking faster to keep up with her pace. He tried to rush ahead to open the door for her, but she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back behind her as she removed her Glock from its holster and raised it to her chest in a low-ready position.

"Stay behind me." Angela ordered.

David hesitated but nodded, stepping aside as she approached the door. Just as she began to pull on its handle, pain exploded in the back of her skull like a flashbang going off. She let out a pained grunt as her vision blurred and the world tilted sharply. Her pistol slipped from numb fingers and landed with a loud as she collapsed to the ground.

Behind her, David Alvarez stood with both hands gripping the heavy-duty flashlight, his eyes wide and wild, chest heaving. He took a staggering step backward, the flashlight slipping from his trembling fingers and landing beside his toolbox.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god." he muttered, running a hand through his hair as he began pacing in a frantic circle. Angela groaned softly, drawing his panicked attention back to her.

She wasn't out cold... not yet.

"FUCK!" David hissed under his breath, watching as she weakly tried to push herself up, blood matting her dark hair where the flashlight had struck.

He looked around, frantically searching for help or an answer as to what he should do next, but there was seemingly none to be found. Not until his gaze dropped and he spotted Angela's Glock lying on the hardwood floor, a foot away from where she had collapsed. Slowly, like a man dealing with a live animal, David took a step forward.

Then another.

Angela's breath hitched as she forced herself onto her back, blurry eyes blinking away the dizziness. David reached down and curled his fingers around the grip of the firearm, picking it up off the ground. As Angela's hazy eyes finally focused enough to see him... really see him... standing there with her weapon in hand, her stomach dropped.

David straightened up, holding the pistol awkwardly. He'd never held a gun before, unsure of how to handle its weight, but gripping it tight all the same. His hand trembled slightly, his face pale, jaw tight.

Angela, still dazed by the blow to the head, looked up at him through blood-blurred vision. Her voice was hoarse, her words slurred.

"You... you don't..."

He said nothing. Just stared at her with a look of panic, regret, and desperation.

********************************************************************************

Same Time

Upstairs on the second floor, even after his thorough search, Reach still hadn't found anything indicating that Alicia or anyone else had been up here recently. With nothing else being of interest to him up here, he started making his way back towards the main entrance to rendezvous with Lopez. She hadn't radioed him to confirm, but he hoped that she might have had better luck than he had. As he passed a locked office door, his cell phone started ringing. Feeling around in his pants pocket, he pulled out his phone and looked at the caller ID on the screen.

John Nolan.

Jerich hit the accept icon before putting the phone up to his ear. "This is Reach."

"Jericho, you were right." John replied. "Kelly admitted to stealing the ice cream truck because she was running away from the rec center over on Wolcott."

"Officer Lopez and I are there right now." Jericho informed him. "The building is closed, but we're checking the place out. So far, we've found nothing but a busted-out window on the front door."

"Yeah, that's how she got out." John explained. "Kelly said she was grabbed by an employee, a chubby guy with dark hair. She managed to fight him off and get away."

"Do you have a name?"

"We're working on a name right now, but Jericho, Kelly said she didn't see anybody else while she was there." John told him.

"Copy that. Maybe Lopez-"

The sudden sound of three sharp cracks interrupted their conversation, its report echoing up from downstairs and through the quiet building's hallways. Jericho's head snapped up, looking in the general direction of the sound as his instincts instantly switched on at the familiar sound.

"What the hell was that?" John yelled through the speaker of Jericho's phone.

"Gunshots." Jericho replied. His body was on the move before his mind had even fully caught up as he removed his Smith & Wesson M&P9 from its holster and started heading in the direction of the gunshots. "They came from inside the building."

Reach hung up and slipped his phone back into his pocket as he took off, his heavy footsteps pounding against the linoleum floor as he tore down the hallway. The possibility that the source behind the gunshots had moved from downstairs to the second floor tempered his speed with caution, but for a Spartan, that was a negligible difference. Every corner, every doorway, every shadow was assessed and cleared with the same machine-like precision that had been drilled into him since he was a child. But beneath that cold efficiency, his heart beat hard against his chest. Not out of fear, but urgency.

Lopez hadn't called in the gunshots to dispatch, which led him to believe that she was unable to do so. Whether that was because of faulty equipment, injury, or... something worse... was yet to be determined.

Instead of taking a left and going back down the stairs by the front entrance, Jericho made a right turn at the four-way intersection, heading in the opposite direction. This long hallway would lead to a set of stairs by the gymnasium and was faster than having to walk to the other side of the building. This particular hallway had a set of windows allowing anyone in it to look down at the basketball court below. He gave the area down below a quick glance before returning his focus to what was in front of him, but as he moved past more of the windows, the wider his field of view of the basketball court became.

That's when he saw her.

Below, sprawled awkwardly on the hardwood floor next to a wall, was the motionless form of his partner.

There was a moment of pause as his eyes took in everything and processed what they were seeing. Then he was off, sprinting down the rest of the hallway. Reach hit the stairwell and cleared it in seconds, descending steps at a time and kicking off the walls to keep from losing any momentum. Once he was back on the first floor, he didn't burst through the stairwell doorway, instead peeking through the door's glass panel to check for Lopez's attacker.

Seeing no sign of Lopez's attacker close by, Reach eased the door open. He cleared the corners before stepping through and quietly closing it behind him. He moved quickly to cover the short distance to the gym entrance and pressed his back against its door before leaning his head around the frame to look inside. From his position by the doorway, Reach could see his T.O. lying on the ground, but there was no sign of her assailant.

Not wanting to alert the shooter to his position, Reach moved as quickly and as quietly as he could as he crossed the room to get to his partner's side.

"Dispatch, 7-Adam-07. Officer shot. Requesting back up and EMS to the Ballard Rec Center on Wolcott." Jericho spoke into his radio before holstering his weapon and kneeling down beside Lopez.

Pressing his fingers to the side of her neck, he felt the steady pulse beneath his fingertips and breathed a small sigh of relief. The feeling of his fingers brushing her skin caused her eyes to flutter open, her expression clouded and confused. She let out a pained groan as she maneuvered herself off the ground to lean back against the wall.

"Where are you hit? Show me." Jericho asked.

Angela blinked owlishly, her eyes unfocused and her brow furrowed in a painful grimace. "I'm not... I took it in the vest..."

Her sluggish reply worried him as it meant a possible head injury, but her being alive and able to speak was a good sign.

"Okay. Let's get you out of here." Reach told her as he moved to pick her up, but Lopez's hand on his chest stopped him.

"No, wait, don't." Angela said, trying her best not to agitate the throbbing pain in her head and chest. "He... he took my gun and went into the basement. He's got Alicia down there somewhere. You've gotta... you've gotta go after him.

"No." Jericho countered with a coldness to his tone she hadn't been expecting. "I refuse to just leave you here so that he-"

"Just stop!" Angela yelled. She looked up at him with desperation burning through the fog from her head injury. "He shot a cop, Reach. There's no coming back from that and he knows it. You have to stop him before he takes Alicia down with him."

"I can't just leave you here alone." Jericho argued. "He might circle back before I can find him and finish what he started."

"Did you radio in for backup?" she asked him, getting a nod in response. "Then I'll be fine until they get here. You're Alicia's best chance of going home today, so get out of here." Angela could see Reach's jaw tighten as he thought about disobeying her order, but she could also see in his eyes that he knew she was right. Alvarez had just tried to kill a cop. He needed to be stopped before he could cause even more harm. "Go, save the kid."

Reach was hesitant, staring down at his T.O. for a moment longer before nodding as he stood up.

"Copy that."

Reach turned and walked over to the basement door. He drew his weapon before opening the door and peering down the stairs. With no sign of movement from below, he descended slowly into the lower level. Unlike the dim, quiet shadows upstairs, the basement was harshly lit by rows of flickering fluorescents. The hum of utilities filled the air, masking the subtle sounds of his calculated steps against the concrete floor. His senses were on high alert, scanning every corner and shadow as he searched for Alicia and the suspect. A turn around a corner brought him into what he assumed was a storage space as the wall opposite him had several cages lined up against it.

Shining his light inside, he saw that the first cage had a bunch of different sports equipment packed tightly. Balls, skates, nets, and more. The second one showed much of the same, although instead of sports equipment, it was power tools and construction materials. But it was the third cage that held something much more interesting.

A rattling sound caught his attention while he was looking inside the second cage. Moving towards the sound, Reach used some large metal storage cabinets as cover. Once he reached the end of the row of cabinets, he paused for a moment to listen before swinging out from around the corner and aiming his weapon at the source of the sound. His eyes widening was the only visible sign of his surprise as Reach found a young black girl, no older than thirteen, chained to a metal support pole. Her arms were secured above her head by a pair of handcuffs, with duct tape covering her mouth and even more being used to bind her legs by her ankles.

Reach's sudden appearance scared the girl, but that fear only intensified when she saw the gun aimed in her direction. He instantly recognized Alicia Williamson from the photo her mother had shown them as he lowered his weapon and raised his other hand in a calming gesture.

"Hey. Hey, it's okay." Jericho said, keeping his voice low and gentle. "I'm with the LAPD. You're safe now, alright?"

Alicia gave a frantic nod, her eyes filling with tears as she tried to talk to him through the gag. Jericho moved to remove the duct tape from her mouth, but his attention was pulled away from her by the sound of a man muttering something, which was accompanied by the sound of a zipper being pulled. Reach put his index finger up against his lips, signaling to the girl to stay quiet as he slid back out of the cage and headed towards the direction where he'd heard the muttering coming from.

He rounded another large container and saw a sliding door open with light coming from inside the room. A closer look showed that it'd been converted into a sleeping area as Reach saw Alvarez hunched over a worn duffel bag, frantically shoving things inside. The man had his back facing Reach as the former Spartan stepped out into the open with his firearm aimed in his direction.

"Freeze! LAPD!" Jericho announced.

Alvarez jumped slightly and spun around at the sound, his eyes widening when he saw Reach's large form standing no more than a dozen feet away with his pistol pointed directly at him. Reach's eyes quickly passed over Alvarez and instantly spotted the handle of Angela's Glock tucked into the front right pocket of Alvarez's work uniform.

"Turn around with your hands on top of your head and walk back to me slowly!" Jericho ordered.

Alvarez's face drained of color, his eyes wide as saucers. His gaze darted wildly, looking around for some way out, but finding none. He took a nervous step forward, then another, still frantically searching for a way out.

"Turn around with your hands on top of your head! Now!" Jericho barked.

The frantic, panicked look on Alvarez's face suddenly shifted as the fear drained from his expression like water from a cracked cup, replaced by a chillingly blank stare. His eyes flicked from Reach's face to the gun in his hand, then darted down to the front of his uniform pocket, where the butt of Lopez's Glock was protruding.

"Trust me, you're not fast enough." Jericho warned, recognizing the dead-eyed stare of someone who had nothing left to lose. "Turn around and put your hands on your head."

For a long moment, Alvarez just stared back at him, his dark eyes flicking between Reach's face and the pistol in his hand. Then, with a sudden, jerky movement, his hand grabbed for the front pocket of his coveralls and pulled out the Glock. Reach didn't hesitate.

Pop-pop-pop!

Three shots rang out in rapid succession, their sharp reports echoing off the basement's concrete walls. Alvarez recoiled, a look of surprise flickering across his face before his eyes glazed over and he stumbled backward. He tripped over some paint cans on the floor and fell to the ground, Lopez's Glock clattering from his grasp.

The silence that followed was heavy and absolute, broken only by the hum of the fluorescent lights and the noise of the building's utilities. Reach stood frozen for a moment, his weapon still trained on the fallen man, waiting to see if the bastard would move again.

He didn't.

Reach didn't lower his weapon until he was sure. Then, he slowly stepped forward and kneeled beside Alvarez to check for a pulse.

Nothing.

He holstered his weapon and keyed his radio. "Dispatch, 7-Adam-07. Suspect is down, I repeat the suspect is down. Officer Lopez has sustained non-lethal injuries from gunshots to her body armor and a blow to the head. Requesting medical and child services support for a female adolescent being held captive on scene."

"Copy that, 7-Adam-07."

He gave Alvarez's body one last look before he turned around and started making his way back to Alicia. He wanted to get her as far away from this nightmare as he could.