Awww man! I am sooooo extremely sorry that it took me this long to update! And…let me apologize in advance if this chapter sucks. I'm also sorry if I took Voight a little OOC. I tried, I really did. It was kind of a filler chapter. I don't want it to end yet. :) And I'm (hoping) to lead into an AWESOME ending. Bare with me…please?
Voight couldn't sleep. He had put up Erin and Jay in a hotel room because their lives were at stake. He had also sent Kyle to live with his full-time babysitter.
And he still had no idea who was doing this shit to them.
Screw sleep. That was about to change.
He got up, throwing some clothes on, strapping his gun to his hip and his spare to his ankle, his knife on his left side, and grabbed his keys.
He was going to patrol.
He figured he didn't need coffee…at least not much but he stopped anyway. Next thing he knew, he was sitting outside of Halstead's place. It was almost extremely quiet – way too quiet. That, in Voight's experience, usually wasn't good.
He must've dozed off, because when he opened his eyes again, he was groggy, dazed, and slightly confused. He took a look in his coffee cup, swore, and dumped the coffee out the window. He didn't care if it landed on the car, it would wash off eventually.
That was the point when he began wondering what Erin and Jay were doing in their hotel room. His mind wandered, and he was getting agitated. He had purposely picked that hotel, not only because it was only about two hours from where they were, but because they were the only place that had queen beds in almost every room.
Not that that would stop them, but it was supposed to help him sleep at night. He breathed a deep sigh of relief, and did another sweep around the place.
That's when he saw it.
There was a shadow, lurking around Halstead's place.
Looking for a way in, probably. Voight silently got out of his car and drew his piece.
The figure ducked to the side of the place and looked into a window. It was dark, and Voight wondered what he could see. He stayed ducked down behind his vehicle, just watching the figure…
That's when he realized it was a kid.
He took a couple steps forward as the kid disappeared around the other side of the place. Realizing the kid was moving pretty fast, he put his piece at his side and took off in the direction of the opposite side. He figured he would catch him head on rather than from behind. He put his back up against the wall, and his gun in front of him, and using the back porch light, he turned the corner, ready to fire.
"Hands up!" he yelled when he saw the kid picking up a chair. The kid immediately dropped the chair and threw his hands up.
"Don't shoot! Please! I lost my key and my family's not home!"
"Bullshit, kid, I know who lives here and it damn sure ain't you." Voight took his cuffs out, and cuffed the kids hands behind his back – then threw him up against the wall.
"Now, you wanna tell me what you're really doing here?"
The kid took a deep breath. "I need some money. I'm in deep wit my dealer, and…" before he could continue, Voight grabbed his arm and twisted. The kid gave a little wail of pain.
"Strike two. You ain't shootin'. Now, this is your last chance before you spend a night with me. What are you really doing here?"
The kid sighed, "Look, man, part of that was true. I'm in deep with this man, and he sent me out here to scope the place out. I don't know what he wants to do with it! Just let me go! You gonna get me killed!"
Voight shook his head. "This guy shoulda taught you to bullshit a little better." With the hold on the kid's arm still, Voight led him back around to the side of the house.
Then the gunshots started. Just in time, Voight threw the kid back toward the side of the house and ducked behind the place himself, grabbing his piece with his left hand, he started shooting. "Stay down." He said to the kid.
"As if I can go anywhere!" The kid retorted.
"And shut up!" Voight shot back at him. Voight kept returning fire whenever he heard a pause. He belatedly hoped they wouldn't start advancing toward him. What else did he have to defend himself? A handcuffed kid?
He turned back around to the kid.
"Alright, you listen. I don't trust you worth a damn, but I'm not going to keep you handcuffed to be killed. You run, I'll shoot you myself, you got that?" Belatedly, he was aware of the continued fire.
"In case you ain't noticed, pops, they wanna kill me too! They started when we rounded the damn corner! They don't care about my life. Hell, I'm probably their target."
"Okay, what makes you say that?"
"Besides the fact that you should probably be dead? Look at the damn wall, man, not even batman himself could've survived that if them bullets had hit you!" Voight took this moment to look at the side of the place, and sure enough, there were scrapes where the bullets had hit the corner. Voight wasn't their target…well, their main target. They were obviously shooting at him now that they realized he was armed. Once he had finally unlocked the kids handcuffs, the kid rubbed his wrists.
Voight turned back around.
"How you know I ain't gonna smack you over the back of the head and run away?"
"'Cause you don't wanna die." Voight retorted looking around the corner.
They were gone.
"Where the hell did they…"
"Um…pops…" the kid said from behind him. Voight spun around and saw the two men standing there.
They were dressed in all black suits, and sunglasses…which was weird for the time of night it was. They looked like agents straight out of the Men in Black series.
Voight aimed his gun, but the man on the right held up a hand spoke, "Now, now, that won't be necessary. We've lowered our weapons, we would like for you to do the same."
"Well, I don't give a shit what you would like. Give me a reason I shouldn't shoot you two dead right this second."
"Because you would be killing two officers of the law. I'm Detective Andrews, and this is my partner, Detective McCarthy." He stuck his hand out for Voight to shake, but Voight just glared at it – still refusing to let go of his gun.
"That's funny." Voight retorted. "I'm Chicago P.D. and I never heard of you two."
"We're transfers from New York City." The man quickly replied.
Voight shot them both in the shoulder, "Run!" he yelled and they both ran to Voight's SUV.
"Son of a bitch!" He heard one of the men say. There was chaos, and Voight heard both guns hit the ground, and not long after, both men.
"Let me guess, they weren't cops." The kid said as they were running.
"Well, ain't you just a genius." Voight retorted, sliding in the driver's side and jamming the key in the ignition. The kid got in the passenger seat and barely slammed the door closed before Voight took off.
Suddenly, Voight rolled the window down. "Stay back." He said.
"What?" the kid looked to the side, with his back hitting the back of the seat, and he heard the window rolling down. When he looked at Voight, Voight was pointing the gun toward him.
"What the hell are you…" before he got the last word out, shots were fired.
But they all missed him.
And hit the car the two fake detectives were in, and the kid could hear air depleting from the front tire. Taking his hand off the wheel, Voight put the safety on his gun and laid it in his lap and took off.
"Where you takin' me?" the kid asked.
"The station. Unless you actually want to get out."
He was quiet.
"My name's Damien." The kid said after a moment of silence.
"Alright, Damien. Gonna tell me what you were really doing scoping that place out?"
"Ma'an…I…I was sent to see if anybody was home. I don't know who lives there."
"What were you supposed to do if the person was home?" Voight asked, looking over at him.
"Report it back to my boss."
"Who is…?" Voight pushed.
Damien eyed him. "You really think I know his name? All I call him is the boss. All he calls me is the kid. Hell, you know more about me that he does."
"I doubt that." Voight retorted.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. Ain't no boss of any kind gonna hire someone without knowing who they are. He probably knows you're whole background story down to where you were born."
"Fine. I've told you more about myself than I have him, but he doesn't ask many questions. Neither do I."
"Makes sense. Where do you want to be dropped off?"
"What?"
"Did I stutter? Where do you want to be dropped off?"
"Uh...I…I don't know. Do you really think my boss tried to kill me?"
"Yeah." Voight replied, without hesitation.
"Can't you take me back to the squad?"
"What for? You're not under arrest."
"For protection!"
Voight shrugged, "That depends on if you start tellin' me the truth. You do know who lives there because you followed him and the woman he was with. Tell me why. Now."
Damien sighed, "Like I told you, pops, I was reporting back to my boss."
"What's this guy got on you? Did you know those two are cops?"
"A lot of shit, man, a lot of shit, and I wish to god I had."
"Where's the warehouse?"
"What?"
"The warehouse! Where the hell is it!"
"I ain't got not death wish! I'll tell you when we get to the station!" Voight put his left hand on the wheel, and grabbed and cocked his gun with his right – aiming at Damien's head.
"You got five seconds to start talkin' … or until my patience wears out. Whatever comes first."
"You can't be…"
"Five…"
"Man, that's not…"
"Four…"
"You're a cop!"
"Three…"
"You can't…"
"Two." Voight shot at the window.
"Okay! Okay! Just don't shoot me!" Damien spouted off an address for the warehouse and Voight knew exactly where it was. He holstered his gun.
"Now how hard was that?"
Damien glared at him…wishing that looks could kill.