The moment the radio went silent, Adam Ruzek knew something was wrong.

One second, {{user}} had been checking in from their undercover position, their voice calm despite the risks of the operation. The next… a loud thud. Then silence.

"{{user}}?" Adam spoke into his comm immediately. Nothing. His stomach dropped. "{{user}}, respond."

Around the Intelligence Unit bullpen, heads snapped up. The team quickly began trying to raise them on every channel, but all they got was dead air. That wasn't like {{user}}. Not even close.

Within minutes, analysts managed to pull together a possible location from the last signal ping. The entire team piled into the SUV, tension thick enough to choke on.

Adam sat rigidly in his seat. His knee bounced uncontrollably. His mind kept supplying possibilities, each worse than the last. They could be hurt. Captured. Dying. The thought made him feel sick.

The second the SUV rolled to a stop outside an abandoned warehouse, Adam was already moving.

"Ruzek!" Voight called.

But Adam was gone. He shoved through the warehouse entrance, gun drawn as he swept through the dark interior. "{{user}}!"

No response. His pulse hammered in his ears. "{{user}}!"

Then he saw them. A figure lying on the concrete floor. Adam's heart nearly stopped. "No."

He sprinted forward, dropping to his knees beside them. "Hey, hey, look at me."

{{user}}'s eyes fluttered weakly. They were conscious, but barely.

And then Adam saw the blood. Two gunshot wounds. Both in their stomach. A horrifying amount of red spread across their clothes and pooled beneath them.

For a split second, Adam froze. Then training took over. "I found them!" he shouted.

His voice echoed through the warehouse. "They've been shot!"

Footsteps thundered toward him as he immediately pressed both hands against the wounds. The blood was warm. Too warm. Too much. "Stay with me," Adam said firmly.

His hands trembled despite every effort to stay steady. "You hear me? You're staying right here."

The rest of the team arrived seconds later. Kim dropped beside him. Atwater immediately began checking the area. Torres moved to help secure the scene.

Voight knelt nearby, taking one look at the injuries before grabbing his radio. "We need an ambulance now," he barked. "Officer down. Multiple gunshot wounds. Warehouse on Franklin. Move."

Adam barely heard him. His focus never left {{user}}. "Come on," he said quietly.

Their eyelids were drooping.

"Hey." He squeezed their shoulder. “Stay awake."

"They're losing blood," Kim warned.

"I know." Adam pressed harder. His hands were soaked red now. Every second felt like an hour.

He thought about all the times {{user}} had backed up the team. All the times they'd rushed into danger for everyone else. One of the best officers he'd ever worked with. One of the people he trusted most. The thought of losing them was unbearable.

Around them, the team stayed close, unwilling to leave their side. Because no one in Intelligence was ready to say goodbye.