“Ernesto is about to make a run for it,” Bruce asked urgently.
“When will the Intelligence Unit’s backup arrive!?”
“Bruce, Hank gave clear orders to wait for backup; we can’t act on our own,” Katherine said, equally anxious but maintaining her composure.
“Don’t rush, stay calm.
He won’t get far.”
“Diego might be in that room.
Even if he isn’t, Ernesto definitely knows where he is.
If he gets away, we might never find Diego again.” As he spoke, Bruce had already pushed open the convenience store’s glass door and was walking toward the black Dodge.
“Damn it, Bruce!” Katherine gritted her teeth but followed him out, stepping forward to hook her arm through his again.
“I’m coming with you, but we have to be careful.
He’s definitely armed, and there might be more than one of them.”
“I know.
But just in case, let’s give him a little gift.” Bruce signaled Katherine to keep an eye on the hotel’s activity while he pretended to tie his shoelace, surreptitiously attaching a tracker to the black Dodge.
Watching Bruce’s actions, Katherine secretly gave him a thumbs-up.
The two quickly crossed the street and headed up the stairs on the side of the hotel to the third floor.
The hallway was thick with the smell of mildew and cheap detergent.
Room 307 was at the very end of the corridor.
Bruce pressed himself against the wall beside the door and signaled Katherine to cover the other side, listening for movement inside.
The sound of something dropping came from inside the room, followed by cursing in Spanish.
Damn it, he couldn’t understand a word of it.
Suddenly, urgent footsteps were heard, but they weren’t coming to open the door; they were moving toward the window.
“He’s jumping out the window!” Katherine shouted.
Bruce took two steps back and kicked hard at the lock.
The cheap wooden door burst open.
The room was already empty.
The window was wide open, and the curtains fluttered in the wind.
Bruce rushed to the window and saw Ernesto climbing down the fire escape, a backpack in hand.
“CPD!
Freeze!” Bruce pulled out his pistol and gave the warning.
Of course, he knew it was useless; he was just following protocol.
He didn’t want to deal with Morgan’s old man later.
Ernesto looked up at him, bared his teeth in a sneer, and then accelerated his descent, completely disregarding Bruce.
Without hesitation, Bruce vaulted out the window, grabbed the rusted ladder, and gave chase.
Katherine’s voice came over the radio: “Suspect fleeing through the back alley.
Bruce and I are in pursuit!”
The fire escape creaked under Bruce’s weight, but Ernesto had already reached the ground and was sprinting toward the alley exit.
Bruce jumped when he was still ten feet above the ground, rolling upon impact and springing up to continue the chase.
“Ernesto, stop!
Or I’ll shoot!” Bruce drew his gun again and issued another warning.
Ernesto suddenly spun around, pulled a handgun from his waistband, and fired wildly at Bruce.
Bruce instinctively dove to the side, taking cover behind some trash.
A bullet grazed his shoulder and struck the wall.
For a moment, the sound of gunfire echoed through the narrow back alley.
In the gap while Ernesto was changing magazines, Bruce decisively stood up and fired.
A spray of blood erupted from Ernesto’s shoulder, and his pistol flew out of his hand.
He stumbled back, crashing into a dumpster, but surprisingly didn’t go down.
Instead, he turned and continued to flee.
“He’s hit, he won’t get far!” At that moment, Katherine also blocked the alley exit from the other side.
However, Ernesto seemed extremely familiar with the area.
He kicked open a gate and ducked into a gap between two buildings, vanishing without a trace.
By the time Bruce and Katherine reached the spot where the Dodge had been parked, they only saw a trail of blood on the ground.
The car was gone.
Just then, the sound of sirens approached from the distance.
Hank and the other members of the Intelligence Unit rushed to the scene, seeing the blood on the ground and the graze on Bruce’s shoulder.
“Where is he?” Hank asked sharply.
“He got away, but he was shot.
We put a tracker on the car,” Katherine reported.
“Ernesto suddenly became agitated.
We were afraid he might hurt Diego, so we had to move early.”
Hank immediately deployed a perimeter search via radio.
Meanwhile, Antonio rushed into Room 307, letting out a pained roar seconds later: “He’s not here!
Diego isn’t here!”
A search of the room only turned up Diego’s backpack and some snack wrappers, but no sign of the boy himself. Find the original chapter at g.com.
Omar was also nowhere to be found.
“They split up,” Bruce analyzed.
“Omar took Diego somewhere else, and Ernesto was using this as a contact point.
Omar or someone must have notified him of something, which is why he was in such a hurry to move.”
Just then, Hank’s phone rang.
He listened for a few seconds after answering, his expression growing even darker.
“Omar just called.
He knows we raided the hotel.
He said if we try to track them again, the next thing he sends will be Diego’s finger.
The exchange time has been moved up to 11:00 AM.
The location has changed to the Grant Park parking lot.”
Hank then looked at Antonio: “He also said you’re to come alone, and he knows exactly what color shirt you’re wearing today.
It seems they’re watching us.
There’s an informant inside the department or nearby.”
A deeper chill settled over the scene.
If there was a mole, every move they made could be known in advance.
“Sergeant,” Bruce suddenly spoke up, “even if Omar’s call only lasted thirty seconds, that’s enough for the tech team to get a general location.
He might be using a burner, but cell tower triangulation can give us a search area.”
Hank stared at him.
“How do you know about that?”
“I read the technical manuals back at the academy,” Bruce answered simply.
Hank didn’t press further and instead called the tech team directly.
Five minutes later, word came back: the signal from Omar’s call came from near the South Side Central Bus Station.
“Central Bus Station?” Erin frowned.
“Is he trying to take the kid out of Chicago?
He’s not going to save Octopus?”
“Or it’s just a misdirection,” Jay said with a shrug.
“But we have to check it out.”
Finally, Hank made a decision: “Antonio, you follow the new instructions and go to Grant Park.
But this time, we won’t send any ground support, only aerial surveillance.
Erin, Jay, you follow the tracker signal and take some patrol officers to bring Ernesto in.
The rest of you, split into two groups and head to the bus station.
Bruce, Katherine, you take the south entrance.
Old Ai, you’re with me from the north.
Keep it low-key, plainclothes only.”
“Move out!”
…
At 10:20 AM, the South Side Central Bus Station was already crowded.
Long-distance buses and short-haul shuttles wove between platforms as travelers hurried along with their luggage.
Bruce was wearing a hoodie and jeans, looking like an average college student.
Katherine was dressed as a businesswoman, holding a coffee cup, her eyes scanning the crowd from behind sunglasses.
Hank’s voice came through the hidden earpieces: “Spread out and search.
Report immediately if you see Diego or Omar.
Do not act on your own.”
Bruce walked slowly past the platforms, his eyes scanning the pedestrians, discerning each person’s purpose for being at the station.
Katherine followed behind him, ready to provide support at any moment.
When they reached Platform 7, a bus bound for St.
Louis was boarding.
In the line was a tall Latino man wearing a baseball cap pulled low, one hand tightly gripping the arm of a teenage boy.
The boy’s head was down, but Bruce spotted a unique pattern on his shoes.
Antonio had mentioned in the briefing yesterday that Diego was wearing limited-edition sneakers with a small tear on the left shoe.
“Target spotted,” Bruce lowered his voice.
“Platform 7, bus to St.
Louis.
Omar is in a blue baseball cap and black jacket.
Diego is on his left; he doesn’t look visibly injured but he’s terrified.”
“Can you confirm?” Hank asked.
“Confirmed.
Diego’s shoes are a match.”
“Good!
We’re approaching from both sides.
Bruce, maintain distance and wait for the order.”
But just then, Omar suddenly looked around warily and pulled Diego quickly onto the bus. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
The bus engine started; it was about to depart.
“Omar is on the bus!” Bruce reported in a low voice.
“The bus is about to leave.”
“Get on.
Act as the situation dictates; we’ll be right behind you,” Hank ordered decisively.
“Copy!”
“Copy!”
Bruce and Katherine then boarded the bus one after the other.
Scanning the interior, Katherine took a seat behind Omar, while Bruce chose a seat in the same row as Omar, across the aisle.
They had no choice but to board.
If Omar left Chicago, tracking him would become extremely difficult, and Diego’s safety could no longer be guaranteed.
The bus pulled out of the station and merged into the late-morning Chicago traffic.
Katherine reported softly through her earpiece: “I’m on the bus, seat 15B.
Target is in 14B, Diego in 14A, Bruce in 14C.
Bus is traveling west on 63rd Street.”
“Copy,” Hank’s voice came through.
“We have three cars following behind.
Don’t blow your cover.
Wait until we find a safe spot to intercept.”
Omar seemed increasingly uneasy, constantly checking his phone and looking out the window.
Suddenly, Omar’s phone rang.
After answering, his expression changed drastically.
He jumped up and scanned the passengers.
Omar suddenly pulled out a handgun: “Nobody move!
Driver, take the next exit off the highway!”
Screams erupted in the cabin.
Omar pulled Diego in front of him as a human shield, pressing the muzzle of the gun against the boy’s temple.
“He figured it out,” Bruce whispered.
“Maybe an accomplice warned him.”
Bruce knew he couldn’t wait any longer.
He slowly stood up, hands raised.
“Hey, relax.
What do you want?”
Omar glared at him.
“You!
You’re a cop!
I should’ve known!
Get back!”
“I’m not a cop,” Bruce said, moving forward slowly.
“I’m just a passenger.
You’re scaring me.
I just want to stay alive.
Tell us your conditions, we’re all on your side.”
“Don’t come any closer!” Omar suddenly raised his gun and pulled the trigger, the bullet piercing the roof of the bus.
Seizing the moment, Bruce signaled Katherine behind Omar with his eyes and drew his gun to fire almost simultaneously.
Katherine didn’t miss a beat either; she stood up and grabbed Omar’s raised handgun, jamming her finger behind the trigger to prevent him from firing again.
The next second, a “bang” rang out.
Omar slumped to the floor, Bruce’s bullet hitting him right between the eyes.
[Criminal neutralized.
Obtained one black iron treasure chest.]
Katherine quickly secured Omar’s gun and comforted the passengers while reporting the situation: “Omar is down.
Diego is safe!”
Bruce didn’t rush to check the chest; he stepped forward to check Diego’s condition.
The bus suddenly braked hard, and the doors were forced open.
Antonio rushed onto the bus and hugged his son tightly, tears streaming down his face.
“Diego…
my boy…”
Hank walked up to Bruce and patted him on the shoulder.
“Good work!”
“Sergeant, just doing my job.”
“Thank you, Bruce, Katherine.
You brought my son back!”