"Close the door," Voight barked gruffly to the detective sent over from Sex Crimes. "What have you got?"
The detective was a barrel-chested hispanic who looked like he lifted weights for an hour before breakfast. "I'm Espinoza. It's a pleasure to be working with you, Sergeant." Voight nodded brusquely, a smile touching his lips.
"The perps are using peer to peer file sharing called BitTorrent. Users install a Linux partition which divides computer hard drives into isolated sections that hide what's being shared."
"So they can share anywhere. At work, at home, with no fear of being found out?"
"Yep."
"Can you duplicate their setup so we can access their network?"
"Already done."
"Good work. Glad you're on our side," grunted Voight.
Espinoza grinned, and Voight caught the flash of a gold tooth. "Formerly Latin Kings," Espinoza offered.
"A lot of the best cops came from the other side of the fence. How'd you end up in Sex Crimes?"
"My sister was trafficked."
"She make it out okay?"
"No. They killed her."
Voight's eyes darkened. "I'm sorry. Stay on these pricks. I want to know who's sharing what, no matter how trivial. If someone so much as says hello. And I need a profile asap, an online persona that says I'm no stranger to the game."
"You'll have it by the end of the day. I'll have to buy some of what's being offered."
"I know. Do it. Whatever it takes. We gotta find our way to the architects. I need to be someone they can rely on to share files and grow the network."
"Understood." Espinoza turned smartly on his heel and left, and Voight sat thinking for a long moment about how he was going to restrain himself when he finally had these animals face to face and within his grasp.
Kim jumped when someone knocked on the door early the next morning. "It's grandma," a familiar voice called. Platt. Garrett dropped his cereal spoon and ran to let her in, but not before winking at Kim. The kid is a born cop, she mused, shaking her head.
"How's my boy?" she heard Platt cry boisterously as Garrett launched himself into her arms. "Easy, kid, you're getting too big for that," Trudy chuckled.
Garrett smirked playfully at Kim when he returned to the kitchen, Trudy in tow. Kim was amazed at how quickly the nonverbal shorthand between her and Garrett had begun. The kid truly seemed to be relishing his role undercover, though Kim wondered how long it would be before he grew bored and wanted to go home to his friends and his own life.
Trudy launched into the prearranged conversation Kim had been briefed on via text message the night before. Trudy's friend at DCFS had an abused kid she couldn't find temporary placement for, could Kim take him just for now? The paperwork was already filled out, and she would be paid for her services, struggling single mother that she was. A potential victim for the ring, after Garrett had been groomed by them. Trudy moved unconsciously closer to the Alexa pod on the counter.
"Yeah," Garrett enthused. "How old is he? This'll be cool. Someone to hang out with after school."
"He's only five," warned Trudy.
"A whole year younger," moaned Garrett. "Maybe he's still cool, though. Can we do it, mom?" Garrett looked up at Kim so brightly she felt like hugging him, as if some of his youthful optimism would seep through her pores and soften her heavy heart. Unwelcome longing for Adam rose up in her to test her resolve yet again. She breathed shakily.
"I guess we could," she replied with just the right amount of trepidation. Trudy's eyes beamed approval.
"Good. I'll text you later, he should be here by tonight. His name is Liam."
"Remember, Eli, this kid's had a hard time," Kim said to Garrett. "He'll need to be handled gently."
"You'll have all the resources of DCFS at your command," added Trudy.
Kim fought the urge to roll her eyes. As if that was something to count on. Trudy saw it and nodded imperceptibly.
"I'll drive little man here to school so you can get to work," Trudy said.
"Thanks," Kim told her, anxious to text Voight and find out where they were at. All this acting was starting to fray her nerves already, and her stomach roiled with hormones that were still struggling to normalize. She felt an odd moment of disembodiment, as if her identity were slipping away. She had asked for this part, and there could be no hesitation.
"Go on, you two. Have a good day, Eli."
"Love you mom."
The words echoed longer than they should have.
"I don't know about these coveralls," Ruzek whined. "I think they make my butt look big. What do you think?" Ruzek stuck his ass out in Atwater's general direction.
"Shut up man. We don't want to be late for our first delivery."
"We got plenty of time."
Kevin chafed at the stiff material the coveralls were made of, and he wasn't fond of the flower logo on the lapel. The company was called Morningstar, staffed mostly by ex-felons and thugs trying to satisfy the terms of their parole; Kevin felt like a fox in the henhouse. He mumbled a lot while in their company, and glowered at anyone looking too long at him. Ruzek had already morphed into Atwater's comic relief sidekick, a role that was already grating on Kevin's nerves. He had to admit, Ruzek was adept at staying in character.
They were on the road awhile before Kevin spoke again. "Worried about her?"
Ruzek nodded. They were under strict orders not to say anything they didn't want overheard by the Ring. Atwater's question was ambiguous enough not to be noticed, but they could take no chances. Adam's face flushed with sudden anger, not at Kevin, but at the situation, and the circumstances that had led up to being separated from Kim right when she needed him most. But did she? Would she have just gone on freezing him out? Should he be grateful for the distraction of this case, for the chance to save some kids even though he couldn't save his own? Should he do whatever it took to get back into Kim's bed so they could start over and create another child? Would another child be able to patch the hole in his heart this one had left behind?
"Thomas?" said Atwater, nudging him.
"Yeah?"
"I asked if you wanted to get some coffee on the way. Still with me, bro?"
"Yeah. And no. My gut's no good today."
Kids raping other kids, and adults filming it and selling it online. My gut will never be good again, Atwater thought. Cases like this left cops to assemble the broken pieces of their own psyches, but they were never the same as before; they became something new, and something old, as old and cracked as the original sin, like someone watching Cain standing over Abel's body, oozing certainty that he had gotten away with it.
They pulled up at their first stop, an elementary school in an underprivileged neighborhood where they would deliver breakfast to those who got none at home. A building teeming with potential meat for the pedo grinder. No matter how far law enforcement made it up the mountain, the top was always just out of reach. Kevin bristled with anxiety as they hauled the food into the gym, where kids were already waiting. Which of them was the next target?
One of Upton's new coworkers sidled up to her cubicle at DCFS almost as soon as she had slid into the chair behind the desk.
"I'm Dorothy Gaines," said a woman well past her sell-by date, with pouchy eyes and a severely short bob hairstyle that was extremely unflattering. "You got kids?" said Dorothy without waiting for Hailey to introduce herself.
"No," Hailey answered flippantly. "Can't stand the little bastards." She held her breath at the huge chance she had just taken, until Gaines brightened with approval, and Upton knew she had already struck gold. She was in.
Halstead was having a rough morning, and he groaned with relief when he could at last make his way to the teacher's lounge, where the real opportunities for progress waited. He received several curt nods; he was just another JV substitute in their eyes, not here for the long haul, which suited Halstead's purposes to a tee. He was expendable, and he was mobile, and knew where the most vulnerable kids were to be found, as far as the rest of them knew. A list had been compiled and was waiting on his phone for the right taker. Halstead's radar was already crackling, and he sipped lukewarm coffee and waited to see who would approach.
By that afternoon, Espinoza had purchased Voight's first files as an online predator, and duty required that he view them so the victim's stories could be known and told. Every kid in every video became his grandson Daniel, unsafe in his own home, preyed upon in his own room, the familiar corners now dark with the shadows of demons as he floated near the ceiling, watching what was being done to him without feeling, his heart disconnected, evaporating like the vapor from the radiator.
Espinoza came in when he was done, the silent question waiting in his dark eyes.
Words Olinsky had once spoken rose up like bile to burn the back of Voight's throat. "Some men don't deserve to be walking the earth."
"So we put them in cages," Espinoza responded.
"Or in the ground."
"Even better."
The air in the room lightened fractionally. There was an understanding between them now. Espinoza would follow Voight's lead.
Kim held onto Liam, who sat trembling in her lap, her cheek resting on the top of his head. There was a deep groove in his skull from some previous battery, and she could feel it under his hair. It showed by the line it made in his hair even when it was dry, like a badge of abuse. She had read his extensive list of injuries, some of which would have killed an adult. There was no trust in him anymore, not after the system had returned him to his abusers again and again in the name of family reunification. How were cops supposed to make any difference when the system was loaded against them and undermined them at every turn? How were kids like Liam supposed to go and and build lives for themselves when they were broken from the beginning, and then betrayed by those who were supposed to protect them?
"You're safe here," she whispered. Until the time comes to use you as bait.