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Hank stepped out of the interrogation room first and walked down the hallway while adjusting his jacket. The constant noise of phones and conversations filled the unit.
Ethan caught up to him a few seconds later.
—You handled that well —Ethan commented as they walked.
Hank glanced at him sideways.
"That was your idea, putting Sumner in front of Pierce?"
Ethan gave a faint smile.
—Yeah. I wanted to see what she was capable of.
—You were testing her.
—Of course I was —Ethan replied.
Hank nodded slowly.
He couldn't deny that Sumner had known exactly where to apply pressure.
They walked a few more steps before Ethan spoke again.
—Although I'm guessing that's not the real issue you have with her.
Hank stayed silent for a moment before answering.
—You know she's here to keep an eye on me, right?
—Yeah. That's pretty obvious. —Ethan slightly turned his head toward him.— Then assign her to me. If she's going to be watching someone, I'd rather keep her close and know exactly what she's doing.
Hank watched him silently for a few seconds before nodding.
—Fine.
Then he added calmly:
Back in the office, Ethan walked over to the board and shared the information he and Burgess had gathered from the old woman and the possible Saints hideout.
Once everything was clear, Hank clapped his hands and gathered everyone together.
—Alright then, let's move.
Ruzek's plan and the lead he had followed ended up becoming the only truly viable lead in the case, something nobody inside Intelligence had expected.
Ethan walked past Sumner and gave her a small smile.
—Grab your things. You're coming with me.
She immediately looked up and gave a faint smile before standing. She grabbed her weapon and adjusted it back onto her waist.
In one corner of the office, Burgess still stood motionless, clearly uncomfortable.
She was still holding the evidence bag in her hands, staring at its contents as if she didn't know whether to keep it or send it to forensics.
Ethan watched her for a few seconds before walking over.
—Why are you still carrying that garbage around?
Without waiting for an answer, he took the bag from her hand and dropped it onto a nearby table.
Burgess slightly opened her mouth, surprised by the bluntness.
Ethan was already walking toward the exit.
—Why are you still standing there? Let's go.
—I got it —Burgess replied quickly, hurrying to catch up with him.
Burgess was practically euphoric and quickly ran downstairs after him.
The group climbed into the vehicles and, about ten minutes later, arrived in a remote industrial area on the South Side.
On both sides of the street stood old red-brick buildings, massive and silent, looking abandoned for years.
Only a few stray cats rummaged through overturned garbage bags beside the dumpsters.
The roar of police engines sent them scattering the moment the cars turned the corner.
Ethan slowed down while studying the numbers painted on the building walls.
Finally, he stopped the SUV in front of a deteriorated factory.
The other vehicles braked behind him, one after another.
The doors opened almost simultaneously, and everyone quickly started gearing up.
According to the information the elderly woman had given them, there were usually seven or eight gang members inside the gang's phone refurbishing factory, but now that they were at war, there were probably more than a dozen.
And every single one of them would be armed.
That only meant one thing: any mistake could end in a shootout.
Ethan opened the back of the SUV and pulled out several bulletproof vests.
Then he grabbed one of the vests and tossed another one to Burgess.
Sumner, who had just closed the passenger-side door of the SUV, watched the scene while adjusting hers with quick, precise movements, like someone used to field operations.
But the moment Burgess tried to fasten her vest, the Velcro got stuck.
Burgess instantly turned red.
—It's way too tight… —she muttered, embarrassed.
Sumner slightly raised an eyebrow, holding back an amused smile.
Ethan let out a quiet laugh through his nose.
—Relax.
He loosened the side straps and calmly adjusted them again until the vest finally fit correctly.
—There.
Burgess exhaled slowly, clearly relieved.
—Thanks.
Then she grabbed another vest and helped Ethan put his on while Sumner finished checking her service weapon.
Ethan then opened a hard case in the back of the vehicle.
Inside rested two AR-15 rifles, several modified Glocks, and additional magazines perfectly arranged.
Burgess widened her eyes slightly at the sight of the weapons.
Her breathing quickened a little.
Since joining the police, she had never been involved in a shootout like this. Much less used an assault rifle during an operation.
Sumner, on the other hand, looked at the weapons much more calmly.
—Wow, impressive —she commented while picking up one of the magazines to inspect it.
Ethan grabbed one of the AR-15s and offered it to Burgess first.
—Take it. You know how to use it, right?
Burgess hesitated for a few seconds.
—It's not necessary. I have my Glock.
Ethan raised an eyebrow.
—There are armed guys in there carrying semi-automatics. This isn't the time to try impressing anyone.
Sumner gave a small smile after hearing that.
—Trust me, Burgess —she added while taking the second rifle for herself— once the shooting starts, you'll always want the bigger gun.
Burgess stared at the rifle for a few more seconds before finally accepting it with both hands.
Ethan said nothing, slung the AR-15 over his shoulder, and shut the rear door of the vehicle.
—Whoosh!
After a whistle, everyone else gathered around them.
—These guys are expecting an attack, so they'll be armed and nervous —Ethan said while checking his Glock and racking the slide with a dry metallic sound.— I want everyone to be alert. Don't hesitate.
He looked up toward the old building. The dark windows looked empty, but that didn't make the place any less dangerous.
Hank softly cleared his throat against his fist before speaking.
—Remember something —he said while looking at the group.— The main objective tonight is to catch Calavera, not start a massacre.
His gaze briefly passed over Ethan.
—If you can avoid shooting, do it.
The comment drew a few discreet looks from the team.
Ethan raised both hands with an innocent expression.
—What exactly is that supposed to mean?
Atwater let out a quiet laugh through his nose.
Antonio shook his head, trying to cut the tension before the jokes started.
—Alright, enough. Let's move.
The seven of them quickly split into two groups.
With Glocks holstered across their chests, bulletproof vests tightened, and rifles pressed against their bodies, they began advancing along the red-brick wall.
Their steps were fast but silent.
Every so often, they glanced up toward the upper windows, alert for any movement behind the dirty glass.
But the place remained disturbingly quiet.
After advancing several more meters, Ethan discreetly checked his radar.
Dots began appearing on the screen.
One… three… six… more than a dozen targets. All are grouped in the same area of the building.
Ethan's eyes hardened slightly.
—We've got movement inside.
When they reached a rusted iron gate, he immediately raised his arm.
The entire team stopped.
Antonio quickly moved to the entrance and pulled out a police bolt cutter.
While he worked on the lock, the second group crossed the street, crouched low, and took positions on the opposite side of the entrance, covering windows and possible exits.
The atmosphere became even more tense.
Because now they knew there really were people inside.
Everyone remained positioned to the left and right of the iron gate, waiting patiently.
A minute passed, and then the click of chains hitting the pavement echoed softly.
The iron gate creaked with rust. Antonio immediately slowed down and opened it carefully.
Everyone entered, and Ethan climbed the stairs.
Ethan quickly turned around, pressing his hand downward.
The position of one of the lights upstairs almost matched theirs, meaning someone was watching the staircase.
Too many people climbing together risked alerting them.
He gestured toward Antonio, and the two slowly moved uphill, one in front and the other behind.
The five people behind them pressed against the wall, nervously watching upward.
When they reached the third floor, their steps stopped.
The smell of cannabis floated through the air.
As Ethan rounded the corner of the staircase, he quickly peeked around.
A man with short hair and a leather jacket leaned against the bare concrete frame of the doorway. Smoke still drifted through the air while the man lazily took small drags.
Faint conversations could be heard in the distance.
This guy didn't look like a lookout. More like someone slacking off.
Ethan briefly signaled Antonio with two fingers before slinging the AR-15 onto his back to free his hands.
On the other side of the rusted gate, a man smoked distractedly beside a side entrance to the factory. The dim yellowish light above barely illuminated his silhouette.
He didn't look worried.
He probably thought nobody would be crazy enough to come near that place.
Ethan took one step forward, then another, and suddenly launched himself ahead with brutal speed. His body practically slid through the darkness.
In less than two seconds, he was already behind the man.
The guy barely had time to feel a presence at his back before a hand clamped tightly over his mouth.
—Mmmh!
The sound died muffled against Ethan's palm.
At the same time, Ethan saw the guy instinctively react. His hand dropped toward his waist, where a dagger was hidden inside his belt.
Ethan let out a small sigh, almost disappointed.
—Bad idea...
He pulled out his own dagger and pressed it directly against the man's neck.
The cold blade brushed against his skin.
The gang member's body instantly froze.
A chill ran down his spine, and his fingers started trembling. The dagger he had tried to draw slipped from his hand and hit the ground with a small metallic sound.
Before the noise could spread, Ethan crushed it beneath his boot.
—Shhh… —he whispered close to the man's ear.— Not a sound.
The man frantically nodded, breathing heavily through his nose.
Now he could perfectly feel the blade pressing against his throat.
And the worst part wasn't even that.
The worst part was how fast that cop had appeared behind him.
Ethan wasn't especially tall, but he was strong enough to slightly lift the man off the ground while dragging him into the shadows beside the wall.
Only when he saw Antonio waiting below with his bulletproof vest and rifle ready did he truly understand who these people were.
"What kind of fucking cops do this?" he thought in terror.
Antonio was also slightly surprised seeing Ethan holding the guy with a dagger pressed to his throat like he'd done it hundreds of times before.
Ethan gave him a quick nod. Antonio immediately understood and stepped back to bring the rest of the team.
Meanwhile, Ethan quickly glanced at the detector.
The nearest light dots remained grouped inside the building, about ten meters away. Far enough that careful footsteps wouldn't alert anyone.
For now, they still had the element of surprise.
Shortly afterward, the rest of the team appeared, advancing in line along the brick wall.
When they saw Ethan silently controlling the gang member, several exchanged surprised looks.
Ethan barely glanced up at them.
—Don't make noise.
Everyone nodded.
Then Ethan slowly removed the dagger from the man's throat.
The gang member barely managed to exhale in relief.
And that was a mistake.
The very next second, Ethan grabbed him by the jaw and delivered a sharp strike with the base of his palm right behind the ear.
—Tck!
The man's eyes rolled back almost instantly.
His body went limp, and Ethan caught him before he could collapse noisily onto the floor.
—Nice hit… —Antonio muttered quietly.
Burgess reacted quickly and pulled several plastic zip ties from her belt.
Together, she and Antonio restrained the man's wrists and ankles while Sumner covered the entrance with her rifle ready.
Ethan took a piece of cloth from the gang member's pocket and stuffed it into his mouth before taping his jaw shut.
—Done —Antonio whispered.
Ethan looked toward the factory's side entrance.
Then he checked the detector again.
The interior was massive, an old industrial warehouse converted into a clandestine operations center for the gang. More than thirty workers occupied the stations, most of them women and teenagers, dismantling stolen phones alongside laptops, televisions, consoles, and boxes of stolen merchandise stacked to the ceiling.
But this wasn't just an illegal phone factory.
Behind improvised black tarps, several men weighed cocaine on digital scales while others vacuum-sealed bags and counted stacks of cash on a table covered in white powder.
Nearby were boxes of ammunition, disassembled handguns, and packages ready for distribution.
It was a full-scale gang distribution and storage center.