Back at the Chicago Police Department’s 21st District, Hank Voight stormed into the Intelligence Unit with anger written across his face.
“Anything on that SUV?” he demanded before he had even fully entered the room.
Antonio Dawson looked up from his desk with a grim expression and shook his head.
“Nothing,” Antonio replied.
“Patrol hasn’t found it either, and nobody’s reported seeing a matching vehicle since it left Midway.” Hank’s jaw tightened before he turned toward Alvin Olinsky, hoping the airport investigation had produced something better.
Alvin shook his head as well.
“Several employee access passes were stolen yesterday.
Nobody reported them missing until we started asking questions.” He folded his arms and added, “By the time airport security realized what happened, Derek’s people had already used them.” Hank’s eyes darkened with anger.
The SUV had disappeared, the access passes led nowhere, and Adrian Knight was still somewhere in Derek Keyes’s hands.
Around the Intelligence office, the atmosphere became so heavy that nobody seemed interested in speaking.
At that moment, Desk Sergeant Trudy Platt stepped into the room.
She already knew Adrian had been kidnapped and understood why everyone upstairs looked ready to tear the city apart.
Even so, she walked directly toward Hank and said, “Sorry to interrupt, but there’s a kid downstairs asking for you by name.” Hank immediately looked at her.
“Says he’ll only talk to you,” Trudy continued.
“Considering what’s going on, I figured you’d want to see him.” Hank didn’t waste time asking questions.
He followed Trudy downstairs, where she gestured toward a teenager sitting near the front desk.
“He’s over there.” The boy looked around thirteen or fourteen and was holding a bright pink bakery box in both hands.
When Hank approached, the teenager immediately stood up and studied him.
“You Hank Voight?” “Yeah,” Hank replied.
“That’s me.” The boy extended the box toward him.
“I’m supposed to give you this.” Hank accepted it and carefully lifted the lid.
There was no cake inside, only a cell phone resting at the bottom.
His expression hardened as he asked, “Who gave this to you?” The teenager shrugged.
“Some guy stopped me while I was riding my bike.
Gave me a hundred bucks and told me to bring this here.” He nodded toward the box and added, “Said it had to go straight to Hank Voight.” Hank picked up the phone and pressed the power button.
It opened immediately without asking for a passcode, and there were no messages, contacts, or recent calls that could identify whoever had prepared it.
There was only one video file.
Hank didn’t play it downstairs.
Instead, he looked at the teenager and said, “All right.
You delivered it.” The boy nodded and quickly left the district.
Hank turned around and headed straight back upstairs.
Once inside Intelligence, he handed the phone to Greg “Mouse” Gerwitz.
“Check this.” Mouse connected the phone to one of his computers and opened the only video on the device.
Within seconds, the large monitor filled with footage of Adrian suspended in the basement, bruised and restrained while Derek’s men worked him over.
Baseball bats slammed into him repeatedly between bursts from the stun baton.
Nobody in the room spoke.
The video showed Adrian’s body jerking violently from another electric shock before one of Derek’s men struck him again.
Even experienced Intelligence officers understood how much damage that kind of treatment could do, especially after repeated shocks.
Antonio let out a heavy breath and rubbed a hand across his forehead.
Hank stared at the screen without blinking.
Adrian hadn’t even been in Intelligence for a full day before his first undercover operation had ended with him kidnapped and tortured.
The thought only made Hank’s anger worse.
Then Derek stepped into view.
“This guy of yours is tough,” Derek said calmly to the camera.
“You should be proud.” The video continued while Adrian hung weakly behind him.
“I want every confidential informant file Intelligence has connected to the North Side.
That’s what you’re giving me in exchange for your officer’s life.” Derek’s expression never changed.
“Bring the files to 39th Street and California Avenue tomorrow morning at nine.
Send one female officer.” “No cameras, no wires, no guns,” he continued.
“One woman and one box.
Try anything else, and your officer doesn’t come home.” The video ended.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Mouse finally leaned back from the computer.
“We’ve got more than a hundred confidential-informant profiles in the system.
Some cases have dozens attached to them, and most of those people have families.” Antonio immediately frowned.
“We’re not handing over their names.” Adam Ruzek turned toward him.
“So what, we just let Adrian die instead?” Antonio stood up sharply.
“That’s not what I said!” Adam’s expression hardened.
“Then what’s the plan?” “Hey!” Alvin stepped between them before the argument could go any further.
“Both of you calm down.
Fighting each other isn’t bringing Adrian back.” The two men reluctantly backed off.
Hank remained silent for another moment before looking toward Mouse.
“Start building fake files.” Mouse nodded.
“Make them believable,” Hank continued.
“Names, addresses, backgrounds, whatever you need.
We might have to use them.” Then Hank turned toward the stairs.
“I’m going out.” Nobody asked where.
They all knew Hank Voight had contacts that didn’t appear in any official CPD directory.
A short time later, Hank arrived at the Cook County Jail.
Inside the visitation room, he sat across a thick glass divider from a tall white inmate dressed in an orange jail uniform.
The man looked surprisingly relaxed despite being behind bars.
“Look who decided to visit,” the inmate said with a crooked smile.
“They told me Hank Voight was downstairs, and I figured somebody had to be joking.” Hank picked up the intercom phone.
“How’ve you been, Eddie?” Eddie leaned back in his chair and studied him through the glass.
“About the same as the last time you saw me.
Just six hundred-something days older.” His smile widened slightly.
“You look good, though.
Still carrying the badge?” “That’s why I’m here,” Hank replied.
Eddie’s amusement faded a little.
Hank leaned closer to the glass.
“I need to find Derek Keyes.” Eddie immediately shook his head.
“Keyes is one of those guys who’s around until he decides not to be.
If he wants to disappear, he disappears.” Hank didn’t bother easing into the real reason for the visit.
“He kidnapped one of my officers.” Eddie’s expression changed.
The teasing disappeared completely.
He knew that taking a police officer was different from ordinary street business.
Once somebody crossed that line, every resource the department could find would be pointed in their direction.
“Anything you’ve heard,” Hank said.
“Inside or outside.
I need it.” Eddie stared at him for a moment.
“I’m guessing you’re offering more than a carton of cigarettes.” Hank understood what he meant.
Eddie thought for several seconds before continuing.
“I’m supposed to be out in a few months.
Might need somebody to make a few things easier when that happens.” Hank didn’t hesitate.
“You have my word.” Eddie remained quiet for a while before finally nodding.
“There’s a guy named Tirell Ches.
Used to be one of Keyes’s street lieutenants.” Hank listened carefully.
“Got picked up for murder and ended up doing life,” Eddie continued.
“But guys like that don’t suddenly stop being part of the organization just because they’re locked up.” Eddie leaned toward the glass.
“Keyes’s people probably visit him every few months.
Maybe put money on his books, send people through, keep him comfortable.” He gave Hank a knowing look.
“Might be something worth checking.” Hank immediately stood.
“Thanks, Eddie.” He left the visitation room and pulled out his phone before he had even reached the end of the hallway.
Mouse answered a moment later.
“Mouse, inmate name Tirell Ches.” Hank’s voice was cold and urgent.
“Look him up.” [Reader Event Active]