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—Hey.
—Any news?
Only Erin was in the observation room. The few people inside exchanged greetings, and he looked through the one-way mirror into the interrogation room.
Sitting across from Hank was Pierce, a large Black man with a thick waist and heavy shoulders that practically filled the metal chair in the interrogation room.
—What's your plan? —Hank asked as he slowly stood up and stared at him.— Kill the Saints one by one until Calavera shows up… or until they hand him over to you?
Pierce pressed his lips together.
He shifted in his chair and gave a slight shrug without answering.
—I want this to end here. —Hank placed both hands on the table and leaned toward him.— No more shootings. No more bodies. I'm going to find Calavera, and I'm going to put him in prison.
Pierce let out a dry laugh through his nose and slowly shook his head.
—No, man.
He lifted his gaze and locked eyes with Hank.
—Arresting me won't change anything. There'll always be more Disciples. But I promise you this… Calavera is going to pay for what he did.
Hank held Pierce's gaze for a few more seconds.
The interrogation room fell silent, interrupted only by the faint hum of the lamp hanging above the table.
—Think very carefully about what you're about to do, —Hank finally said in a deep voice.— Because once this gets out of control, there won't be any way to stop it.
Pierce didn't answer. He simply leaned back in his chair, jaw tense and eyes fixed on the metal table.
Hank watched him for another moment before stepping away.
On the other side of the one-way glass in the observation room.
Ethan turned toward Erin.
—Where did they find him?
—At his mother's house, —Erin replied, shaking her head slightly.— He didn't even try to run. He knows we don't have anything on him, so all we can do is ask him to cooperate with the investigation.
Knock, knock.
Soft knocks sounded at the door, and everyone turned at the same time.
Detective Sumner appeared in the doorway holding a folder under her arm.
—Detectives, —she said with a slight smile.— I think I found a way to pressure Pierce.
Ethan and Erin immediately walked over.
At that point, the problem was no longer simply making arrests. They needed to find a way to keep Pierce under control before the gang war exploded into the streets.
Because Ethan knew one thing clearly: Pierce didn't know where Calavera was.
If he did, somebody would've already found the body.
But the retaliation between the Saints and the Disciples had to stop as soon as possible.
Cases like this weren't solved just by filling jail cells.
Sometimes you also had to put out the fire before it consumed the whole neighborhood.
—I looked into the property where Pierce's mother lives. —Sumner tapped the folder under her arm.— The house was purchased entirely in cash.
She opened the folder on the table and slid several documents toward them.
—And we couldn't find any legal source of income that could explain where the money came from.
Ethan narrowed his eyes slightly.
—I'm pretty sure this is going to hurt him more than any threat, —Sumner continued.— If we start asset forfeiture proceedings over the purchase of the house and manage to link the money to narcotics trafficking, they could take the property away from his mother.
—Come with me.
He took the folder from Sumner's hands and motioned for her to follow him toward the adjoining interrogation room.
—Why don't you do it yourself instead?
Sumner handed him the document and nervously pointed toward the room.
—I don't think the Sergeant wants to see me walk in there.
—This is your chance to earn your place… just follow me. —Ethan smiled at her.— Are you sure you don't want it?
Sumner pressed her lips together, clutching the document against her chest. Then they headed toward the room.
—Knock, knock.
Ethan knocked on the door and led Sumner inside.
Hank looked at Sumner behind him with a confused expression.
Ethan nodded slightly, signaling that he should be patient. He pulled out a chair, placed a hand on Sumner's shoulder, and gently pressed her down into it.
Ethan and Hank stood on either side of Sumner. Hank crossed his arms over his chest, adopting an extremely cautious posture.
Sumner felt much safer now. Since arriving at Intelligence, she had carefully observed every interaction inside the Unit: who held real authority, who could argue with Hank without ending up humiliated, and most importantly, who Voight listened to even when he disagreed.
And that was Ethan.
That was why she was convinced she had backed the right horse.
She set the folder on the metal table and gave him a slight smile.
—I'm guessing you want to play a game and figure out what's inside this folder.
Pierce let out a mocking laugh and shifted in his chair.
—What would it be? —he asked with contempt.— My criminal record? Some snitch talking about my boys?
He looked her up and down openly.
—Or maybe a picture of me with some woman?
—None of that.
Sumner didn't even flinch.
Pierce smirked arrogantly and slowly shook his head.
—Then none of it matters. Calavera and the Saints are going to end up dead.
—That sounded a lot like a threat.
Pierce's smile disappeared for just a moment. He immediately raised his hands.
—I didn't say I was going to do anything. I'm just repeating what people are saying out on the streets.
—Too bad, —Sumner said as she opened the folder,— because none of your answers were correct.
She pulled out several documents and slid them in front of him.
—This has nothing to do with gangs or murders.
Pierce lowered his gaze almost reflexively. The moment he saw the address written at the top of the document, tension appeared on his face.
Sumner noticed immediately.
—Wow, that was fast. You already recognized the address, —she said, leaning forward slightly.— Look, this is your mother's house, right?
Pierce slowly dropped his crossed arms onto the table. The mocking confidence he had shown until then started to disappear.
—The property was purchased entirely in cash, —Sumner continued.— And so far, we haven't found any legal source of income that justifies that money.
She tapped the document with her finger.
—Preliminary Civil Asset Forfeiture Order.
Pierce looked up sharply.
—You can't do that.
—Of course we can, —Sumner replied calmly.— If we link the purchase to narcotics money, that house goes straight into forfeiture proceedings. Even if we don't, a judge could still reach that conclusion.
Pierce clenched his jaw.
For the first time since entering the room, he looked genuinely uncomfortable.
And that made Sumner smile.
Because she had finally found something that could actually pressure him.
—Just like that, —Sumner continued while tapping the document,— one phone call, a judge's signature, and this paperwork starts moving today.
She held his gaze.
—Want me to prove it?
Pierce was no longer smiling.
Sumner used the silence and delivered the final blow.
—Your mother's house was bought with narcotics money. Money you earned on the street.
She slowly slid the document toward him.
—And unfortunately for you… We already figured that out.
Pierce stared at the paper without touching it.
—So tell me something, Mr. Pierce, —Sumner asked calmly.— Is there any reason why I shouldn't start the forfeiture process right now?
Hank, who until then had looked impatient against the wall, slightly raised his head.
A mocking smile appeared on his face as he watched Pierce's reaction.
Because they had finally found a crack.
—No… no, you can't do that.
Pierce's voice came out lower this time.
It no longer sounded defiant.
He frowned and slowly shook his head.
—You can't take my mother's house. She has nothing to do with this.
For the first time since walking into the room, he looked genuinely shaken.
Pierce might've been a gang leader, someone used to ordering hits and living surrounded by violence, but he was still somebody's son. And in many South Side neighborhoods, mothers were practically untouchable.
—That's wrong, —he muttered through clenched teeth.— She didn't do anything.
—You're mistaken.
Sumner raised one finger and slowly moved it side to side.
—The law doesn't care about feelings, Pierce. If the money used to buy that house came from narcotics trafficking, then the property can be confiscated. That's how this works.
She leaned a little closer.
—And trust me… the judge won't care how much you love your mother.
Sumner kept her eyes fixed on Pierce as she continued speaking with absolute calm.
—Under federal law, we have more than enough grounds to do it. And once the property enters forfeiture proceedings, the feds can tear apart every inch of that house.
She paused deliberately before adding:
—Who knows… maybe they'll even find drugs hidden inside the walls.
Pierce snapped his head up.
—God… —Sumner murmured with fake concern.— It would be terrible if an elderly woman ended up caught in a federal narcotics investigation.
Then she smiled faintly.
—Too cruel for an old lady, don't you think?
Pierce's patience finally snapped.
—You bitch!
He slammed both hands on the table and glared at Sumner, breathing heavily.
For a second, he looked ready to get out of his chair.
But Hank stepped in before things escalated.
He slowly approached, took the folder from Sumner's hands, and pulled out the forfeiture order.
Pierce followed every movement with visible tension.
Hank folded the paper once.
Then again.
And finally tore it apart slowly in front of him.
—What do you want? —Pierce asked in a rough voice.
Hank dropped the torn pieces onto the table.
—I let you walk out that door today, and none of this ever happened.
Pierce narrowed his eyes.
—And in exchange?
—Pull your people back, —Hank replied bluntly.— I don't want to hear about any more retaliation, shootings, or bodies over the next few hours.
He leaned slightly closer.
—If the Saints and the Disciples start another war on my streets, I'm coming down on all of you. And trust me, after today, you know exactly how far I'm willing to go.
—Do we have a deal?
—We have a deal.
Pierce let out a heavy breath. His dark face flushed deep red as he quickly stood up and stormed out.
Ethan looked at Pierce with disdain as he hurried away and stepped down from the table.
After Pierce left the interrogation room, a patrol officer nearby quickly followed him downstairs.
Hank, satisfied with the result, looked at Sumner with approval, then turned and walked away.
—Thank you!
After he left, Sumner stood up and looked at Ethan gratefully.
—You did well.
Ethan gave a slight smile and held out his fist. Their knuckles bumped briefly before pulling apart.
For Ethan, people were judged first by their actions and only afterward by their intentions. As long as someone did the job well and could handle pressure, he had no problem treating them like part of the Unit.
Y Sumner had just proven she knew exactly how to apply pressure.