A/N: I like Chicago P.D., but I think there's room for at least one child-friendly story that still sums up what the show is all about, and this is my first attempt to write a good one. If it is successful, or if it isn't but I want to try again, I may possibly write another Chicago P.D. children's story. I know it's meant for teens and adults, but maybe some children may like to see a tamer version of it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Chicago P.D. Dick Wolf is its executive producer, and as far as I know, he owns it.

WE'RE THE CHICAGO P.D.!

One day, in the Windy City of Chicago, dawn fell on the Chicago Police Department, or Chicago P.D. Sergeant Hank Voight, the rough-around-the-edges but caring leader of District 21's Intelligence Unit, greeted each member of his unit in his usual manner, stern and commanding, but proud. Proud of his unit. The unit included detectives Erin Lindsay, Antonio Dawson, Jay Halstead, Sheldon Jin, Adam Ruzek, and Alvin Olinsky. Voight was a pretty tough cop, ready to use any means necessary to stop criminals and protect the innocent. Lindsay and Halstead had a respectful partnership and friendship. Dawson was a family man. All of them were loyal to a fault, especially Lindsay, who owed it to Voight when he had helped her in her past.

"All right, boys and girls," said Voight, "Remember, there's the case of the Number Crimes Gang, who have been burglarizing a dozen private residences throughout the city and hit at least two innocent citizens who tried to intervene. Now, every time a house is burgled, they burgle my own home as far as I'm concerned. This has got to stop. Nothing else matters until that gang is brought to justice. Nothing."

Everyone in the unit nodded their agreement.

"Our latest lead shows us that the burglaries are happening in a pattern," said Halstead. "They're happening in a certain numerical order."

"Yeah," said Jin, "The first house that was burgled had a street number that started with the number 2. Then the second started with the number 4. The third had a number 8, and the fourth a number 12, continuing with 18, 24, 32, 40, 50, 60, and 72. The surprising news, however, was that the most recent burglary took place at a house whose street number started with the number 75, an odd number instead of even. That, in essence, breaks the pattern."

"All right," said Voight, "Lindsay, Halstead, investigate the house at 7540 Blue Street and ask the owners about their burglary. Olinsky, Dawson, try to work out a likely spot for the next crime. Jin, stay here and handle the case from the office. And Ruzek, you go meet Desk Sergeant Platt and tell her I need two good uniforms on the job to back us up. Meanwhile, I'll deal with our one arrest we've made so far."

The detectives knew what he meant by that last. Voight could be most unpleasant when he was mad.

Ruzek went downstairs and talked to Desk Sergeant Platt. She called over her "favorite" officers, Kevin Atwater and Kim Burgess, who were actually her favorite targets for her bad attitude and sarcasm.

"These two should serve you well, whether they like it or not," Platt said condescendingly.

Ruzek nodded, and explained the case to the two uniformed officers. Burgess, who had something of a bond with Ruzek, smiled warmly. Evidently, she at least did like this, because she dreamed of entering the Intelligence Unit herself someday, just like her partner, Atwater.

In the holding cell, Voight talked to a suspect named Johnny Gage. As expected, the guy had a rude attitude. Voight grabbed him and pushed him against the cell bars, telling him through clenched teeth that he'd better tell him what he wanted to know, or else. Gage, however, only spoke in dark hints, claiming that his gang was going to rob District 21 clean and leave it reeling in the next wake, whatever that meant.

Voight hurled him to the floor and promised that he would force something out of him if his Intelligence Unit weren't able to turn up enough clues themselves. Then he left.

Lindsay and Halstead came to 7540 Blue Street and knocked on the door. The distraught owners, a man and woman with two kids, opened the door. Lindsay asked if there was anything unusual about the crime that they hadn't yet told the police, and the man said that before hitting him on the head, one burglar remarked about how the crooks wanted to see if the cops could "do 90." They didn't know what it meant, but it was all they knew.

Halstead relayed this information to Dawson and Olinsky by radio, who deduced that it could mean that the next target could be a home whose street number started with the number "90."

At the office, Jin examined a map of District 21, and soon came up with the idea that the address of the next burglary was going to be at 9047 Redwood Street. He informed Voight of this, and this time, the Sergeant managed to get a little information out of Gage. The criminal said that the burglary was going to take place 12 AM that night.

Meanwhile, Burgess and Atwater had caught a speeding car and given the driver a ticket. They then heard over the radio that they were wanted at midnight to reinforce the Intelligence Unit when they captured the Number Crimes Gang.

"So much for getting a good night's sleep," mused Atwater.

"You get used to it, I know," said Burgess.

At midnight, the entire Intelligence Unit, plus the uniformed police that supplemented them, staked out outside house 9047, dressed in their bulletproof vests marked with the word, "POLICE." Some of them waited in unmarked vehicles, while others hid behind things in the shadows.

Soon enough, a group of three appropriate-looking thugs quietly drove up in a van and got out. They used their tools to pick the back door's lock and sneak inside. As they did so, the police silently followed them, except for Olinsky, who monitored things from their van, where they kept recording equipment. The Number Crimes Gang started to pick up furniture and possessions and carry it out of the house. But then the police intervened, coming in with their guns drawn and shouting, "Chicago P.D.! Hands up, scumbags!" This last came from Voight and Dawson.

The burglars dropped their wages, and two of them gave up without a fight. But the third made a run for it, out the front door and into the streets.

"Get him, Lindsay!" ordered Voight. Lindsay obeyed, giving chase to the burglar, running very fast and eventually catching up to him. He fought back with a fury, but Olinsky came along and helped her overcome him.

All three gang members were placed under arrest.

Burgess and Atwater were pretty proud of their work that night, and said so to Platt the next day.

"With a little more luck like that," said Burgess, "I just might become an Intelligence officer soon."

"With a little more luck like that, you just might become a model uniformed cop," remarked Platt.

The Intelligence Unit felt the need to celebrate, too, but with less enthusiasm than Officer Burgess.

"Let's not forget, boys and girls," said Voight, "that there are still plenty more scoundrels out there in our fair city, ready to make the lives of the innocent suffer. Tomorrow is another day, and I expect all of you, as well as myself, to always be ready to take them down, by any means necessary, even if it means breaking the rules sometimes. But remember, break the rules, not the law."

Everybody knew that they would always be ready to stop the scum of the city's underworld, because nobody else could do it as well as they could.

THE END