In the gritty streets of Chicago, Katie finds herself at a crossroads, torn between her tumultuous past and an uncertain future. Escaping an abusive relationship, she embarks on a journey of self-discovery, determined to carve out a new path for her...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
-
"Fuel up, champ. Got gym this morning?" I prod Lucas gently as he settles at the breakfast bar in our apartment. He nods, eyes fixed on his cereal bowl, while I sip on my coffee. "What's on your mind, sweetheart?"
"What's wrong with daddy?" he asks. I draw a deep breath to prepare myself for this tender conversation.
"He's just not feeling great right now. Is he treating you well when you're at his place?" I inquire, relieved by his affirmative nod. "Nana will pick you up from school today. I'll be working, but I'll swing by after dinner, okay?"
"Okay," he replies before I usher him off, and we head to school.
After dropping Lucas off, I continue my journey to work. Erin greets me with a "Morning" as I ascend the stairs.
"Morning," I reply, settling at my desk and tidying up the space before logging onto the computer.
"Alright, everyone's here," Voight announces from the front by the board. "What have you got, Antonio?"
"When Jackson and I visited Holsak, he spilled about a man known as Muerte, meaning Death in Spanish. I've dug into his background, and he tends to recruit pure Americans into his gang, which is odd considering he's Spanish himself. His enemy list is extensive, including almost every Spanish-originating gang in North America, likely the source of his name." Antonio informs the team.
"What are they known for?" Lindsay probes.
"Muerte and his core circle, including himself, are notorious for drug smuggling, rape, trafficking – you name it. But our focus here is on the sale of young women, particularly the recent abductions." Dawson adds.
"Do we have any names?" I ask.
"We've got a picture of Muerte," he pins it up on the board, "but his gang? Virtually untraceable. We've got nicknames – DA, FJ, LP, KJ, and Muerte."
"Initials of their American names, perhaps?" Halstead wonders.
"Possibly. The main lead we're following is this." Dawson holds up a sheet of paper. "Muerte has made three-hundred-and-eighty calls to this address in less than seventy-two hours. That's where we start." Antonio suggests, placing the paper on the table.
"Get ready, we roll in five," Voight commands.
I head straight to my locker, grabbing the black vest with my name 'Jackson' and 'Intelligence Section' below it. As I slide it on, I make sure my cuffs, gun, and badge are in place before exiting the room and heading down to the car.
Once I'm in and have clipped my radio to my vest, I exchange a glance with Antonio, signalling that I'm ready.
He starts the car, driving towards the house tracked through the phone calls. "Everything okay? You left pretty quick yesterday."
