Antonio pinned the printed photo beneath a large question mark, right under the nickname El Pulpo.
—According to our friends in Colombia —he said— the gunman's name is Omar Rojas, a hired killer.
Hank stood up, his voice gravelly.
—According to what we've got, Rafe was handling distribution. Cooper took care of transportation. Who's next in the hierarchy?
—The hustler —Erin replied, leaning over the table while flipping through the file.
The hustler was like the middle tier in the street-dealer chain. He oversaw several corners, made sure the product got distributed, and kept the cash flowing upward.
—Do we have any idea who he is? —Hank asked, but everyone shook their heads.
—All right —Hank said, glancing at Antonio—. Send the photos of Omar Rojas and El Pulpo to every department in the city —airports, train stations, buses, and the subway. Find them by any means necessary.
—Yes, Sergeant —they replied in unison before getting to work.
At that moment, a blond man in his forties with short hair climbed the stairs, one hand in his pocket, his expression cold as he looked at Hank.
Hank turned, serious, and walked into his office, followed by the newcomer.
—Who's that guy? —Ethan asked, glancing at Antonio while they rolled the evidence board into a corner.
—Lieutenant Belden —Antonio replied—. He's probably here about that kid.
He gave Ethan a quick pat on the shoulder before heading back to his desk.
While he and Erin were out, Adam Ruzek —the new recruit who'd arrived that day— had already taken a seat.He sat between him and Julia, with his back to the stairs.
When Ethan approached, Ruzek extended a hand.
—Sorry, I didn't know you were a detective.
—Don't worry, Olinsky was just giving you a hard time. —Ethan gave him a friendly pat— You can call me Ethan.
—Of course, I'm Adam. —Ruzek nodded quickly.
Ethan sat down and leaned back. He'd been running around all day and could finally relax.He turned on his laptop, clicked the mouse, entered his password, then looked at the wall behind Agent Dawson's desk.
—Those things on the wall behind Antonio —are they real, or just decoration?
Olinsky, chewing a red candy, turned to look where Ethan pointed. On the opposite wall, a large wooden board was covered with more than a dozen small weapons —daggers, brass knuckles, shurikens, darts, and others.
—Just decoration —Olinsky said with a grin.
—Good. —Ethan turned back to his screen; he had to file a report on the information they'd gathered from the dealer that morning.
—Hey —Olinsky leaned close to his monitor and whispered— if you buy Lindsay lunch, she might do the report for you. She's great with paperwork.
Ethan realized that from Olinsky's angle, he could only see a corner of his screen.
—What's her favorite? —Ethan asked, tilting his head curiously.
Olinsky smiled faintly, the candy wobbling between his fingers.
—Her favorites are the sandwiches from Mr. Beef, in River North, downtown —he said in his usual calm tone.
A few minutes later, Lieutenant Belden walked out of Hank's office, still looking grim. Moments later, Hank followed, escorting a young man out of the interrogation room and downstairs.
It had been a long day, and soon it was time to call it a night. The cases would still be there tomorrow.
Ethan shut down his computer and rubbed his eyes, letting out a tired sigh.
—Ethan, you got plans tonight? —Halstead asked as he strolled over and sat on Ruzek's desk—. Erin and I are heading to Molly's later. You in?
—Molly's? —Ruzek raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
—Yeah, that bar on Cortland —Halstead explained, gesturing with his hand—. It's run by some firefighters, good vibes. Atwater from patrol is throwing a party tonight —he added with a grin— says there'll be a big crowd… and he personally invited us.
—I'm out. —Ruzek shook his head—. Got dinner plans with some friends. Maybe next time.
—All right. —Halstead turned to Ethan—. What about you?
—Send me the address —Ethan nodded. A night out with his colleagues didn't sound bad.
People slowly began leaving the office. After tidying up his desk, Ethan stood and grabbed his coat.
Just then, Hank came up the stairs.
—Ethan, I'm playing cards tonight. You in?
—Nah. —Ethan took off his badge and slipped it into his pocket—. I promised Halstead I'd hit Molly's tonight.
—All right, see you tomorrow —Hank said, tapping the table before heading back to his office.
After dinner, Ethan got in his car and drove to Molly's Bar, following the address Halstead had sent him.
Once parked, he glanced at the sign and stepped inside.
—Excuse me, sir —a man standing by the door smiled and stopped him—. There's an event tonight, so there's a cover charge.
Ethan glanced at the sign by the entrance, pulled a few bills from his pocket, handed them over, and went in. The place was packed —probably because of the event. Molly's was pretty big; the ceiling was draped with strings of small lights casting a warm yellow glow.
Music played, neon lights flickered, giving the place a nightclub vibe. That, plus the DJ spinning tracks, probably explained the cover fee.
—Detective. —A tall, broad Black man in a gray sweater and suit jacket approached him with a beer mug in hand and reached out—. Hey.
Ethan almost didn't recognize the man dressed so differently —it was the patrol officer they'd worked with earlier that day.
—Atwater.
—That's right. —Atwater smiled—. I organized this event tonight. Erin and the others are inside. Come on, I'll take you to them.
—Sure, thanks. —Ethan nodded and followed Atwater inside.
A few steps later, they spotted three people sitting at a square table in the middle of the bar —Halstead, Erin, and patrol officer Burgess.
It seemed this place was their go-to hangout after work. Odd, considering it was a firefighters' bar —cops usually stuck to their own.
—Hey guys! —Atwater called out—. Look who's here!
—Hey. —Ethan smiled and raised a hand in greeting.
The patrol officer was wearing a black V-neck dress that gave her a completely different charm from her uniform that morning. Beside her was an empty seat.
—Is this seat taken?
—Please, sit. —Burgess smiled, shaking her head and sliding in a bit.
—Atwater, what gives? —Erin asked, hands spread—. How come you're charging your own colleagues?
Atwater leaned on the table, grinning as he lifted his big beer mug.
—Come on, business is business.
At his words, Burgess rolled her eyes immediately.
—Guys —she said, setting her glass down— Atwater is the cheapest man I've ever met. I swear, you've never seen anyone like him.
She gestured dramatically.
—Yesterday, we drove half an hour to find an ATM. You know why? —she raised her brows— Just to find one that didn't charge a fee!
When Atwater tried to stop her, she blocked his hand. Ethan, Erin, and Halstead burst out laughing at Burgess's story.
—I don't care what you say —Atwater retorted proudly, patting his stomach—. You just don't understand a man who cares about his retirement.
He slapped the table with a grin.
—Minimum tab tonight: two beers each. Drink up, I'm not joking! Chat a bit, I'll go check on the others.
—If you gave me your glass, that'd be a start —Erin said, raising her half-empty mug.
—Next time —Atwater replied with a wide grin, winking before walking away with his oversized mug.
—Hey, we were waiting for you —Halstead said with a smile as Erin motioned for Ethan to sit down.
—What do you want to drink? —Burgess asked, leaning toward him across the table with a curious smile.
—All right —Ethan nodded, raising a hand while glancing at the menu by the bar.
The waiter came over quickly, notebook in hand.
—Four Macallan eighteens and a beer —Ethan ordered calmly, handing over his credit card.
—Got it —the waiter replied, walking off.
—I'm the new guy —he said with a faint smile—, so this round's on me.
Halstead raised an eyebrow, surprised.
—Are you serious? A beer would've been enough; you didn't have to spend that much.
Ethan shrugged, still smiling.
—I guess I just like making a good first impression.
—Don't worry, one drink won't break me. —Ethan smiled at Burgess—. Besides, I owe Burgess one.
The waiter brought the drinks, easing the tension.
—Alright, guys —Ethan said, lifting his small glass of whiskey with a relaxed grin—. First round with the team, huh? Nice to meet you all… cheers!
—Cheers! —Halstead echoed, raising his glass.
—Clang, clang, clang! —The glasses clinked together.
They laughed, lifted their drinks, and downed them in one go.
Burgess emptied her glass and tapped it lightly on the table.
—Hey, Burgess, what happened between you two? —Erin asked, catching Burgess's curious glance.
—Nothing happened —Ethan said, raising a hand before taking a sip of his beer—. She and Atwater just asked me a question today, and I joked around a bit, that's all.
—Ugh, boring —Erin said, pouting when she realized there was no gossip to enjoy.
Ethan looked around the bar, not seeing anyone else.
—I know Hank went off to play cards, and Ruzek's busy… where are the other three?
—Antonio and Julia have families, so they're not free tonight —Halstead replied, taking a sip of his beer—. Olinsky rarely joins us for drinks.
Ethan shrugged and finished his beer in one gulp. The glass was big, and after dinner, he was thirsty.
He lifted the empty glass, swirled it slightly, and looked at Erin.
—So, what were you all talking about before I showed up?
—Stuff we used to do before becoming cops —she said with a smile—. For example, we just found out that sitting next to you is a former flight attendant.
Ethan turned to Burgess.
—Is that true?
—Yeah —she nodded. Her hair was loose instead of tied back like at work; soft brown waves framed her face, carrying a faint, sweet scent—. I did it for three years before joining the force.
—Flight attendant, sexy Burgess —Halstead repeated, elbowing Erin and laughing under his breath.
—Okay, I know what you're thinking —Burgess said, serious now—. That it's a glamorous job. Laugh all you want, but being a flight attendant taught me how to handle crowds, solve conflicts, and use intimidation tactics.
Her eyes swept over the three detectives.
—Those are extremely useful skills for when I join the Intelligence Unit.
—Ah, I see —Ethan said, nodding with a grin.
Burgess didn't mind. Without that ambition, she'd never make it to Intelligence. She wasn't planning on being a patrol cop forever.
She looked at Erin.
—What about you? Any stories?
—I'm just a normal person, nothing interesting to tell —Erin replied, taking a sip and glancing at Halstead.
—I was in the Army —Halstead said.
Burgess took another sip of beer.
—Saw combat?
—Yeah —he answered, a bit reserved.
Noticing his tone, Burgess quickly changed the subject and turned to Ethan.
—What about you?
—Me? —Ethan pointed at himself.
—Exactly, you —Erin said, resting her hands on the table, her necklace swinging as she leaned forward—. Come on, we're a team now. We should at least know a bit about you, right?
—She's right —Halstead added, nudging Erin with his thumb and looking at Ethan with curiosity.
Ethan shrugged.
—Well, I was a deputy at the sheriff's office in a small Pennsylvania town.
—A deputy? —Burgess repeated, surprised—. That's quite a jump, from deputy to detective… big difference.
Realizing how it sounded, she quickly added:
—Sorry, I didn't mean to look down on deputies.
—It's fine —Ethan said with a small smile, taking another sip.
That kind of thing wasn't exactly a secret —anyone curious enough could find his record in the system.
Erin clinked her glass gently against his.
—Then you must be pretty good —she said, raising an eyebrow with a playful smile—. Not everyone makes detective at your age; I have to admit, I'm curious how you pulled it off.
The Intelligence Unit wasn't a place for slackers —nobody got in without proving themselves.
—Let's just say I got a golden ticket for doing my job —Ethan said with a crooked smile before downing his drink—. Nothing special, just lucky timing.
—So —Burgess said with a laugh—, did you see a lot of action? You know what they say: small town, big hell.
—Well… Banshee's mostly quiet —Ethan said, raising his glass—. A few Amish fights, some addicts, biker gangs… you know, the usual.
—Quiet? —Erin laughed—. Somehow, I doubt that.
—Alright, sometimes things got out of hand —Ethan admitted with a grin—. But only in the suburbs… when there were mall sales. Trust me, housewives can be vicious.
Halstead burst out laughing.
Atwater came back to the table with more beers.
—Alright, folks, the dartboard's open! Otis says no one from the P.D. can beat him.
—Otis? —Ethan asked, glancing toward the back of the bar.
—Yeah, one of the firefighters from 51 —Erin explained—. He's one of the bar's owners.
Otis, a medium-built guy with a confident grin, waved from the dartboard.
—Come on, detectives! Let's see if you can take on a real pro.
—This should be fun —Halstead muttered, standing up.
Ethan joined them, beer in hand and an easy smile on his face. Between laughter and playful trash talk, the darts started flying. Soon, bets followed —a round of beers for whoever missed.
—Nice aim, Morgan. I've got to admit, I'm glad you're protecting the city —Otis said after watching Ethan's dart land just shy of the bullseye.
—Let's just say I've had some training… —Ethan replied with a wink.
—Military? —Otis asked, curious.
Ethan only smiled.
—Something like that.
—Bullseye! —Erin shouted, throwing her arms up when her dart hit dead center.
The group burst into cheers and laughter. Ethan raised his glass in a toast to her.
—Alright, cops, next round's on the house —he said—. But only beer…
—You'd better stick to that —she replied, laughing.
The night carried on with stories, jokes, and bets that always ended in laughter. Otis ended up buying two rounds, Burgess tried to convince everyone to sing karaoke, and Atwater kept taking photos, insisting "someone's gotta document the firefighters' defeat."
Ethan leaned back in his chair, smiling quietly. For the first time since arriving in Chicago, he felt like he belonged.
The next morning, when Ethan arrived at the precinct, Hank and Olinsky were already at work.
As the others filed in, the briefing began. Hank pinned a photo of a Black man beneath Rafe's and wrote the name:
—Xavier Green.
—Last night I spoke to the kid we found in the closet; he said Green's the one who moved product on 95th for Rafe —Hank said—. If the Octopus is targeting anyone, it'll be this guy. —He tapped the photo with a marker—. We'll set up a controlled buy.
—If we get something on Green, we can pressure him to talk. According to the kid, their street intel's better than ours right now.
—Ruzek.
Adam Ruzek, the new recruit from yesterday, jumped up at the sound of his name.
—Here, Sergeant.
—You're new, so you'll make the buy —Hank said, pointing at him. Then he turned to Olinsky—. Get him ready, and don't let him screw it up… understood?
—Got it —Olinsky replied, chewing on a candy.
—Ethan, Antonio, Julia, Erin —Hank barked, tapping the photo—. Bring me this man.
—Understood —they answered one after another.
Those assigned to the case quickly began preparations, while Halstead, who hadn't been assigned, stayed behind handling comms.
Ethan took a sip of coffee and looked at Ruzek.
—Nervous?
—A little. I just graduated the academy —the rookie admitted, rubbing his hands—. I don't want to mess it up.
—You'll be fine. Just do exactly what Detective Olinsky tells you.
Unlike Ethan, who knew how to manage his new-guy status, Ruzek still seemed tense, so Ethan tried to lighten him up.
Olinsky walked over, grabbed Ruzek by the shoulder, and said:
—Relax. Remember what I told you: don't get in any cars, and don't go anywhere we can't see you.
—Come on, Morgan… —Erin called from the hallway, her vest still unzipped.
—On my way —Ethan replied, securing his weapon and adjusting his jacket before following her briskly down the stairs.
She turned toward the key rack and grabbed a set without hesitation.
—I'm driving —she announced, raising the keys with a smug grin.
Ethan raised an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
—Are you always this bossy, or just with me?
—Sometimes. Why do you ask? —she shot back, shaking her head as she took a turn.
—I don't know —he said, smirking—. You just give off this subtle "I'm in charge" vibe.
—I guess you could see it that way… oh, I just like driving —she replied, flashing a curious smile.
—I'll stick with my theory —Ethan said, leaning back in his seat.
Erin let out a laugh.
—And tell me, why doesn't it bother you?
—Two reasons —Ethan said as they got into the car— one, I don't know the city… and two, I love having a beautiful woman as my personal driver.
Erin rolled her eyes as she started the engine.
—Idiot —she muttered, though she couldn't stop a small smile from sneaking out. Suddenly, driving didn't feel quite as satisfying.
Ethan chuckled softly.
Erin glanced sideways at him. For some reason, with Ethan, she didn't feel the need to prove anything. He just reclined in the passenger seat, calm, as if nothing could rattle him.
When Ruzek was ready, they got into his vehicle and drove toward the street where Green was usually spotted —the same place where Hank had found them earlier.
Soon, they arrived at the designated location.
Erin pulled over but didn't turn off the engine.
—Three o'clock —she said—. You see those three guys by the alley entrance?
—Yeah —Ethan replied, spotting them immediately.
—Olinsky —Erin said into the radio—. Target confirmed on-site, you can move in.
—Copy that… Ruzek, you know what to do —Olinsky's voice came through.
Ethan unbuckled his seatbelt, grabbed his gun, and waited for the signal.
A minute later, a black Volkswagen Passat pulled up behind them. The car stopped near the group of Black men, and Ruzek got out casually, approaching the dealers.
They could hear the conversation through the earpiece.
Erin nodded and murmured,
—The rookie's doing well, looks calm.
After a brief exchange, Ruzek followed the dealers into the alley. Antonio's car was parked on the next street, giving him a clear view of the setup. Once the deal was done, they'd block off both ends of the alley.
—They're about to make the handoff. Wait for my signal —Antonio's voice came through the radio. A few seconds later, he shouted—: Now! Move!
Screech!
Tires tore across the pavement. Erin spun the wheel, and the car shot forward, sliding into the alley under her control.
Another set of brakes screamed. Ethan slammed the door open and stepped out in one swift motion, raising his 9mm and aiming directly at the dealers.
—Chicago PD! Don't move! —he shouted.
—Shit, this guy's a cop! —one of them yelled.
The men cursed and tried to scatter—just as another car sped in from the opposite end.
Antonio and Julia burst out, guns drawn.
—Police! Hands up! —they shouted.
Facing the aimed weapons, the dealers hesitated. Getting caught meant jail time—but running meant getting shot.
After a tense pause, they exchanged glances and raised their hands.
Ethan and Erin pulled out their cuffs and, with Antonio and Julia covering them, moved in to make the arrests.
The undercover buy operation wrapped up smoothly.
—Xavier Green? —Antonio asked, holstering his Glock. He stepped up to the leader, grabbed him by the hair, and studied his face.
Once they confirmed the ID, the suspects were separated and loaded into different cars for transport back to the precinct.
The two lesser dealers were handed over to patrol officers for booking; their real focus was Green, who was taken straight to the second-floor interrogation room.
Ruzek slumped into his chair, gulping down a huge drink of water. It had been his first field op since graduating the academy.
He hadn't felt much in the moment, but now—back at the station—his palms were slick with sweat.
—Nice work —Ethan said, giving him a pat on the shoulder.
The mission hadn't involved a single shot—borderline boring—but for a rookie, it was pure adrenaline.
The others gave him a nod and bumped fists.
That gesture of approval made Ruzek's grin break through despite his effort to look composed.
—Come on —Ethan said, tapping his desk—. Go take a look at the first guy you arrested. You'll never forget it.
—Got it —Ruzek said, trying to hide his excitement as he followed Ethan toward the interrogation room—. Detective, do you remember your first arrest?
—Yeah —Ethan said after a brief pause—. His name was Cole Moody… a dumb kid with a talent for finding trouble.
Ruzek looked intrigued, his pulse still racing.
—And?
—He crashed a party —Ethan said, just before entering the observation room—. Tried to kill the host… so I had to shoot him.
That hit Ruzek like a bucket of cold water. He froze for a moment before following Ethan inside.
In the interrogation room, Antonio slammed a folder down on the metal table.
—You should already know why we're here, right? —Antonio said, tapping the folder.
The freshly arrested man just stared blankly, unfazed.
—Here's the deal —Antonio continued, sitting across from him—. Tell us who the Colombians are targeting next, and we'll drop the smuggling charges. Sound fair?
—I don't make deals with cops —Green said coldly—. I don't believe a damn thing that comes out of your mouths.
—Bang! —Julia shouted, slapping her palm on the table—. Are you stupid? We're trying to save your life!
—That's not your concern. We don't need your help —Green sneered, folding his arms.
Then he leaned forward, slamming both hands on the table, eyes narrowing.
—When those Colombians come knocking, my people will be ready.
Antonio opened the folder and spread several photos across the table.
A row of gruesome decapitation images spilled out. Green's composure cracked instantly.
—I know you're a smart guy, Xavier —Antonio said, striking the photos with his hand—. I'm guessing they thought they were ready too… right before they died.
—Shit… —Green muttered, his lips trembling as he saw the mangled remains of Rafe and Cooper.
He was just a street dealer—he'd never seen anything like it.
Green shut his eyes and spoke hoarsely.
—Shane Cameron. That's who you're looking for. He was hiding yesterday in a cheap apartment on Addison.
With that lead, they hurried back to the bullpen. Antonio relayed the intel to Hank, waiting for his call.
—Everyone, gear up! —Hank barked, clapping his hands—. We're talking to Shane Cameron first. We'll use him as bait to catch whoever the Octopus sent.
Less than ten minutes after returning, they were already heading back out. The pace was relentless. The rest of the team seemed used to it, heading straight for the garage. Ethan and Ruzek grabbed their gear and followed close behind.