Almost half an hour later, several cars pulled up behind an apartment building.
Everyone got out and gathered around Hank halfway down the street.
—We know he's on the second floor, block B, right? —Hank asked Antonio.
—Yeah, that's what Green said.
—Alright —Hank nodded, crossing his arms over the map spread out on the car hood—. You and Julia go up and talk to Cameron. Tell him we're here to help.
—No problem —Antonio replied, tightening his bulletproof vest and stepping forward.
But before he could move, Ethan's voice broke the silence.
—Hold on a second, Sergeant. —His tone was calm but carried a firmness that made everyone look at him—. I think I should go with Julia.
Antonio froze, frowning at him.
—What are you talking about? I know this area better than anyone. If something goes wrong, I'll know where that bastard's headed.
Ethan nodded slightly, lowering his voice.
—Exactly why you should stay down here. If he tries to run, you'll have the upper hand. You know every alley and escape route he could use. —He paused, then added with a dry smirk—. I'll just make sure Julia stays out of trouble.
Julia arched a brow, folding her arms.
—Excuse me? Since when do I need a babysitter? —she asked, her tone a mix of irritation and sarcasm.
Ethan glanced sideways at her, that half-smile of his hiding more than it revealed. He knew the Octopus was already there, moving in the shadows, but he couldn't say anything without raising suspicion. So he played along, pretending calm—though his real plan was to change just one outcome.
Hank watched their exchange in silence for a few seconds, reading them both. He knew Antonio—his pride made him reckless. And he knew Ethan—he never spoke without a reason.
Finally, Hank nodded.
—Alright. Antonio, you stay down here. If Cameron bolts, you cut him off. Morgan, you and Julia go up. I want updates every two minutes. And be careful—these guys are on edge.
Antonio exhaled through his nose, frustrated but compliant.
—Fine. Just… keep her safe.
—Don't worry, I've got it covered —Ethan replied, checking the safety on his Beretta before glancing at Julia—. Let's go, agent.
She sighed and started up the stairs, Ethan close behind. The building smelled of damp and stale smoke; flickering lights cast uneven shadows on the cracked walls.
As they climbed, Ethan felt a tight knot in his stomach. His breathing was steady, but his mind raced. The Octopus… Julia didn't make it out of this alive. He couldn't remember every detail—just flashes of something he'd already lived through. But one thing was clear: he wasn't going to let it happen again.
He gripped his weapon tighter, jaw clenched.Julia glanced at him, puzzled by the intensity in his eyes.
—You okay? —she asked carefully.
Ethan forced a small smile.
—Yeah… just a bad feeling.
They kept climbing, their footsteps echoing through the corridor like a countdown to something Ethan refused to let play out.
They were partners—field operatives used to working in pairs. Erin and Halstead were also partners, but because of Ethan, Erin had been showing him around the area for the last couple of days.
Just as Hank and the few remaining officers discussed their strategy, two more cars screeched to a stop beside them.
Lieutenant Belden from the Violent Crimes Unit stepped out of the lead vehicle. Hank, assuming they were backup, approached him.
—Lieutenant, we've got it under control. If he's upstairs, I'll let you know.
—Who's upstairs? —Belden asked, scratching his short blond hair, visibly puzzled.
—Shane Cameron —Hank replied, spreading his hands—. I sent you the info.
—I have no idea what you're talking about. We're tailing a vehicle —Belden said, resting a hand on his hip as he looked past Hank's team—. About the Cooper decapitation—when we cross-checked license plates leaving the crime scene, we found a black car that looked highly suspicious.
—And why the hell wasn't I informed? This is a joint investigation! You can't keep me in the dark all the damn time! —Hank growled, eyes narrowing.
Belden shrugged.
—Maybe it slipped my mind.
His tone made the Intelligence Unit tighten their jaws. Failing to share a crucial lead didn't just waste manpower—it made the whole operation dangerously unstable.
—Ethan —Hank said sharply, eyes blazing. Then, glaring at Belden, he grabbed his radio and barked—
—Abort the mission! Pull back now! The Octopus's men are probably already inside the building! Get out of there!
Hank dropped the radio, turning to confront Belden, when—
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Gunshots exploded from the floor above.
The agents' faces changed instantly.
—We need backup! Officer down! —Ethan shouted into the radio, voice tight with panic.
Hank shot Belden a death glare and yelled:
—Erin, Olinsky, with me! Everyone else, spread out!
The team glared at Belden before bolting in different directions toward the building.
—Shit! —Belden cursed under his breath, drawing his gun.
He enjoyed giving Hank a hard time, but he hadn't wanted a cop to get shot.
Moments earlier, inside the building…
—This is it… I'll knock —Ethan said, stopping at the apartment door. He looked at Julia, waiting for a nod.
Julia adjusted her vest, shooting him a sharp look.
—I'll do it, rookie —she said coldly, pushing past him—. Shane, Chicago PD! Open the door! —she yelled, pounding her palm against it.
Ethan didn't look at the threshold—his hand was already on his gear. A small HUD in the corner of his vision showed a red dot moving fast—his radar. The dot was closing in, aligning with the door.
In an instant, Ethan reacted—he grabbed Julia by the vest, yanking her into the side hallway and covering her with his body.
—Get down! —he growled, keeping her pinned under him.
A deafening blast ripped through the hall. The door exploded into splinters—a shotgun had just fired point-blank. Shards of wood and clouds of dust whirled through the air, the shockwave rippling their clothes.
Julia gasped as a sharp pain tore through her arm. Small pellets had pierced her sleeve, grazing the skin near her bicep—thin lines of blood streamed out.
—He got my arm —she hissed, gritting her teeth.
Ethan gave her a quick look, scanning to make sure the vest had held. He nodded tensely, then rose just enough to peek inside. Dust filled the air, turning the light amber; furniture loomed like dark silhouettes.
Downstairs, civilians were fleeing in panic.
—Chicago PD! —Antonio shouted, pushing a woman aside as he sprinted up the stairs.
When he reached the second floor, he saw Ethan pressing down on Julia's arm, blood seeping between his fingers. Antonio dropped beside them, pressing his hand over the wound.
He looked at Ethan and pointed his gun toward the doorway.
—Go! Go! Get that bastard!
Ethan glanced at the bullet-riddled door, then kicked it open.
Bang!
The door slammed inward, sending up a cloud of dust. Without clearing every room, he rounded the corner and charged inside.
In the back room, a body lay sprawled on the floor. Beside it, a large machete—clean, unused. The killer was gone, which meant the chase was about to get a lot harder.
Outside, red and blue lights flashed wildly. Ethan stepped to the window and looked down. On the street, a man in a leather jacket aimed a gun straight at him.
Bang!
Ethan dodged as the glass shattered beside him. He looked back just in time to see the man jump into a black Audi and speed off.
He glanced at the fire escape—then dove through the window.
—Bang!
A dull thud echoed as Ethan landed from the iron fire escape, the metal rattling beneath his boots and throwing off tiny sparks of rust. He stayed still for a few seconds, taking in the scene. Blue police lights flashed across the building walls, casting long, restless shadows that danced over splinters of wood and broken concrete.
Ethan pushed himself upright, tightening his grip on his gun as he assessed the situation. In the distance, the roar of engines drew closer — Erin and Halstead were speeding down the street.
—Get in! —Erin shouted as she slammed on the brakes.
She threw the door open, and Ethan jumped inside.
—Go! After them!
—How's Julia? —Erin asked, flooring the gas pedal.
—She's hurt... Dawson stayed with her —Ethan replied, shaking his head, muttering under his breath—. Hold on tight.
Erin cut through an alley, swerved suddenly, and the car spun sharply. Tires screeched, and the black Audi appeared right in front of them.
The Violent Crimes Unit cars fell behind. Ethan gripped the window frame and yelled:
—Step on it and get closer —trust me!
He leaned halfway out the window. The cold Chicago wind whipped against his clothes, sending them flapping wildly, his hair lashing around his face.
The car roared harder, closing the distance fast. Halstead's and Ruzek's vehicles were just two cars behind. Erin jerked the wheel sharply, giving Ethan a clear shot.
In an instant, he raised his arm and squeezed the trigger.
—Bang!
A burst of gunfire cracked, and the Audi's rear tire blew out. The car veered wildly out of control.
—Boom!
The front of the Audi slammed into a tree trunk by the roadside. The hood buckled upward as a column of white smoke poured out.
Tires screeched behind them. Ethan had just sat back when the sudden brake almost threw him from his seat.
Inside the Audi, the airbags had deployed. The bright light still glowed — the man inside was alive, at least for now.
Hearing the sirens getting closer, Ethan knew he couldn't wait.
—Cover me! —he shouted, ducking low as he moved in, loading his nine-millimeter.
He peeked through the car window — only one person inside. The dark-haired man's head hung low, half-delirious. His hands dangled loosely at his sides, and a pistol lay near his feet.
Ethan yanked the door open and unclipped the seatbelt. Then he grabbed the man by the collar and dragged him out with force.
—Drop the gun and show me your hands!
Halstead and Ruzek surrounded them, guns drawn, shouting toward the driver's seat.
—Shit! —the dark-haired man groaned as Ethan threw him to the ground.
Seeing this, the others rushed in. Ethan pinned him down, took Ruzek's cuffs, and snapped them around his wrists.
With a hard pull, Ethan lifted the man by the hair, jerking his head back.
—Pulpo.
When Halstead saw the face of the man they'd caught, his expression lit up.
—Well, look who it is.
The Violent Crimes Unit car screeched to a stop nearby. Belden slammed his door and strode toward them.
—Hand him over. He's my prisoner.
Halstead hesitated. There were four detectives and a lieutenant on Belden's side; three detectives and one officer on theirs.
—Go to hell.
A voice unexpectedly came from the Intelligence Unit's side.
—What did you say?
Belden spotted a young detective pointing at him — and instantly turned red with rage.
—Mind your own business, detective.
—I spoke loud and clear —Ethan said, shoving Pulpo toward Ruzek. He stepped forward, pointing a finger right at Belden's face without an ounce of politeness, his voice laced with venom—. That bastard shot our partner point-blank!
—He what? —Halstead's face twisted in fury as he stepped up—. Julia got shot?
Seeing the rage burning in their eyes, Belden backed off a step. He looked behind him — none of his men were willing to defend him. Grinding his teeth, he turned away and stormed off.
The Violent Crimes officers exchanged uneasy looks with Erin's team, then shrugged helplessly. They gave Ethan a respectful nod before heading out.
—Tch —Ethan muttered, turning to look at Pulpo.
Pulpo had shaken off his daze and was grinning smugly.
—Smack!
Ethan slapped him hard, wiping that grin right off his face.
—Halstead —Erin said, heading quickly to her car—. You and Ruzek stay here for patrol backup. Then take Pulpo back to the cage.
Ethan and Erin jumped into the car and sped away.
Watching them drive off, Ruzek smirked.
—Damn, the new detective's got some serious balls.
Halstead shoved him, motioning to keep quiet in front of Pulpo. Then he pushed the suspect to the ground and forced him into the car with a kick.
Right now, all he could think about was Julia.
Seven or eight patrol cars were already parked in front of the apartment building. Whenever an officer was shot, the local patrol units rushed to the scene — for their comrades, and for themselves, knowing one day it could be them.
Antonio and the others were gone; only a dark pool of blood remained near the entrance.
Erin slammed the brakes, and Ethan flashed his badge to a patrol officer.
—Hey, where's the Intelligence Unit?
An officer approached.
—They caught up with the ambulance and went to the hospital.
Once they confirmed which hospital, Erin floored it again. The officer watched the car speed off, glanced at the blood on the ground, and shook his head.
When they arrived at the hospital, Erin asked a nurse for directions and hurried toward the operating room.
Outside the waiting area, Hank, Antonio, and Alvin sat anxiously. Antonio's hands were still covered in dried blood.
Ethan slowed as he approached.
—Where's the guy?
Hank looked up and walked toward him.
—We've got Pulpo in custody. Halstead and Ruzek are taking him to the cage —Erin said.
Ethan nodded and clapped Hank on the arm.
—We got him.
Hank exhaled with relief, then frowned again.
The OR was quiet, nurses going in and out. Not long after, Halstead arrived at the hospital.
Except for Ruzek, who stayed to watch Pulpo, everyone was there. Teams like theirs built deep bonds.
Even though Ethan had only been with them two days, a team was a team — and now, this was his.
After several tense hours, the lights in the operating room finally went out.
Ethan's heart jumped. Julia's injuries weren't fatal — the vest had taken most of the impact — but he still prayed she'd make it.
The OR doors opened, and the surgeon stepped out, pulling off his mask.
The hospital corridor was silent, broken only by the low hum of the lights. When the doctor appeared at the end of the hall, everyone stood at once.
—Agent Julia is out of danger —he said firmly, scanning his notes on a tablet—. The pellets caused extensive damage to her right arm: a comminuted fracture of the humerus, multiple soft tissue injuries, and partial nerve involvement.
Ethan listened without blinking.
—We managed to stabilize her and stop the bleeding —the doctor continued—. The reconstructive surgery was successful, but her functional prognosis is uncertain. She won't return to field duty for a long while. And… we can't yet guarantee full recovery of movement.
No one spoke. Erin lowered her head, fists clenched tight. Ruzek exhaled and ran a hand down his face.
—Thank you, doctor —Hank said gravely.
The doctor gave a brief nod and walked down the hallway.
Ethan leaned against the wall, letting the air slowly leave his lungs. It wasn't a clean victory, but it wasn't a loss either. Julia would live—and that was enough.
—Erin, stay with Julia. The rest of you, get back to the station. There are still two of Pulpo's men loose in the city —Hank said in a rough voice—.
Halstead took a deep breath, grabbed Antonio, and with Alvin's help, led him out of the hospital. He was one of the most affected—Julia was his partner, their bond the strongest. Seeing her so broken when he'd gone up to the second floor had been a shock for him.
Several cars sped back toward the 21st District, furious and determined to hunt down the two remaining gunmen. Hank stopped abruptly as he climbed the stairs to the reception area.
Belden and several detectives from the Violent Crimes Unit stood by the counter with grim expressions. The news about Julia's gunshot wound had already reached the station. Officers and patrolmen in the lobby wore solemn faces; the atmosphere was heavy and suffocating—it always was when an officer got shot.
Now that the Intelligence Unit and the Violent Crimes Unit were face-to-face, the air turned icy.
—You son of a bitch! —Hank shouted, pointing at Belden, his teeth clenched—. You almost got my people killed!
—I don't know what you're talking about —Belden said, pursing his lips and tilting his head—. Stay away from me.
—You're an idiot! —Hank roared, lunging toward him.
The Intelligence team followed Hank, surging toward Belden, ready to teach him a lesson. Seeing this, the members of Violent Crimes quickly stepped between them to block his path.
—Stop them! —someone yelled.
As the altercation broke out, nearby patrol officers rushed over, shouting as they tried to separate the two groups.
The entire reception area descended into chaos.A dozen Chicago cops shoved each other while Hank and Belden's angry shouts echoed through the room.
—Bang! Bang! Bang!
—Sergeant Platt at the front desk slammed her fists on the counter, yelling urgently—: Calm down!
Civilians in the lobby, who had come to file reports or paperwork, stared at the scene in disbelief.
Ethan, protecting Hank, forced his way through the crowd just as the patrol officers were about to step in. The patrolmen quickly broke them apart, and colleagues from other departments intervened to mediate. Several men grabbed Hank and pinned him against the wall as he cursed them out. The Intelligence Unit members were also pulled away while others rushed to restrain them.
Ten minutes later, a thunderous yell echoed from the Section Chief's office. Members of both Intelligence and Violent Crimes waited in the hallway. The Violent Crimes detectives kept their heads down, avoiding Antonio and his team's eyes.
Everyone knew what had happened. A few minutes later, the office door flew open.
The Section Chief, his golden badge glinting under the light, stormed out shouting:—Out! Everyone out of my office!
The fact that the lobby fight hadn't escalated into actual violence was a relief for him. Internal Affairs would investigate the shooting, but chances were slim. Belden might walk away unpunished, claiming he'd simply been delayed and forgot to relay the information.
His only loss would be any chance at a future promotion—and his reputation among fellow officers. News like that would spread through the Chicago PD like wildfire.
As for Hank, he hadn't injured anyone, so he'd only get a reprimand. If he were punished after losing one of his agents, no one would ever respect the Section Chief again.
Back in the Intelligence Unit office, everyone sat in silence.
After a while, Hank walked out with heavy steps. As their leader, he had to stand tall and say something.
—All right, we know Juls is safe, so let's focus on what's ahead —he said, crossing his arms and scanning the room—. We're going to catch those bastards. We owe her that.
—Antonio, go make Pulpo talk. We need to find the two remaining shooters. The ones out there will only cause more chaos.
Antonio looked down at his hand, still stained with blood. He stood abruptly and went down the stairs.
The high-profile criminals captured by the Intelligence Unit were being held temporarily in the iron cage in the garage to make interrogation easier.
Hank gave Halstead a knowing look, and he quickly followed Antonio. Once they were gone, Hank sighed deeply and turned to Ethan.
—What happened in there?
—We got to the apartment door —Ethan explained—. Julia knocked and identified herself as police—standard procedure. But right before the shot, I heard movement behind the door. I grabbed her by the vest and pulled her aside. A second later, the door exploded into pieces. It could've been much worse. If I hadn't pulled her out of the line of fire, Julia might not be alive.
—You did good —Hank said, his tone firm but calm—. Only Belden knew Pulpo might be there. It wasn't your fault. You saved her. That's what matters.
Outside, on the balcony of the break room, Ethan had barely finished half a cigarette when he saw Ruzek sprinting up the station stairs through the glass door, nervous and out of breath.
Ethan quickly stubbed out the cigarette, stood up, and opened the glass door.
—Sergeant, we've got a problem —Ruzek said anxiously, standing at the entrance to the bullpen—. Detective Halstead asked me to tell you Diego's been kidnapped.
—Who's Diego? —Ethan asked, frowning as he stepped out of the break room.
Alvin jumped to his feet, the candy falling from his mouth.
—It's Antonio's son! —Hank exclaimed, his brow furrowing, a mix of worry and anger flashing in his eyes—. Grab your gear—we're rolling out.