It's eight o'clock in the morning when Federal Agent Jay Halstead steps out of the elevator, arriving on time to work as always, with his left hand tucked in the pockets of his slacks as his right hand holds his cup of searing hot coffee. He hadn't taken a sip since he received it from the coffee cart on the corner of main street because the scorching temperature singed his tongue.
"Hey Halstead," Agent Ruzek greets from across the office, head peering over the cubicles, "boss left a file on your desk!" He waves what Jay assumes is the matching file in his hand, "we're meeting in the conference room in the next ten minutes, apparently we got a big case, came all the way from headquarters in Washington. Boss had no choice but to take it!"
Jay gets to his office, it's no corner office offering up the luxury of space, but the windowless office does at least provide him with a semblance of privacy. It's a little larger than a walk-in closet, but as long as it's big enough to fit his desk, office chair and a small couch, it leaves him no room for complaint. He taps his door closed behind him with the tip of his foot and ventures over to his neat and always organized desk space. He looks down at the closed manila folder, not bothering to open it up because he knows the meeting will cover everything inside of it and he sets his cup down on top of it, using the case file as a coaster.
He runs his hands over his face and inhales the calming aroma of the essential oils his future sister-in-law set up in the corner of his office. It's on a timer, cutting on every six hours. He takes a sharp intake of breath, pulling in the smell of the lavender oil used to promote relaxation and reduce stress before collecting his coffee and file and departing his office, leaving the door opened so the smell can trickle out and hopefully destress the agents buzzing around the office space. He finally takes another sip of his coffee now that it's cooled down to a tolerable temperature. He enters the conference room, the one closest to Platt's office, knowing conference room one is always her preferred meeting space. A few agents are already seated around the table and Jay scans the area, searching for where he wants to sit when Upton waves her hand and pats the space next to her.
"Hey Jay," she eagerly greets this morning, "did you get a chance to look at the case?" She's particularly chippered this morning, she must have already made it through her routine two cups of coffee while he has only started sipping on his first one, "Platt wanted some agents on the case and then was willing to take volunteers. I took one look at it and volunteered immediately." He drowns out her babbling. It's way too early in the morning for that and he isn't in the mood to talk.
The other agents fill the room, none of them bothering to give a morning greeting, probably due to sticks figuratively being shoved up their asses. Silence is what Jay prefers; he can think in silence, he can observe in peace and he can choose his words wisely so he can speak with purpose. No unnecessary conversation and no idle chitchat are needed. To get on his good side, silence is the way to do it.
Halstead's time working for the feds has turned him into the hardened person he is today, the heart that once was so carefree and innocent was darkened by the evil of the world, by the pain he has witnessed and the suffering he has heard. It's impossible to not be impacted. In order to do his job, he had to numb himself, which only became a permanent defense mechanism that he eventually could no longer turn on and off. And that numbing pain turned to anger which led to multiple stints in anger management. His relationships are superficial, nothing typically going pass a one-night stand, his life is to the job, if you ask him about marriage, it's to the job too. It's why his record of closing cases is as stellar as it is because he has no problem with over time and taking work home with him, he has no problem getting deeply involved in his work assignments to the point where even when he's off, he can't think of anything else but the case. It's why he earned his little office and is on the way to earning a corner one. So, knowing all of that, he should be the least surprised in the room when Platt announces, "Halstead will be the primary agent taking point in the case," he sits up and snaps out of his reverie at the announcement because he has no idea what the case is even about, "months of research was conducted and long work hours was used to get us to where we are today. This undercover operation is expected to start at the beginning of next week, so let's get through this presentation, assign roles and head on out to prepare."
His boss, Federal Agent Trudy Platt, shuts the door to the conference room to ensure the agents not assigned to the case do not overhear classified details pertaining to it. Another agent sets up the PowerPoint and projector for her without her even having to ask because it takes less than a day working under Trudy Platt to know she is far from tech savvy.
"As some of you know, pressure has come down from DC," Platt tugs on the bottom of her blazer to adjust it before reaching for the projector remote and handing it over to another agent to adjust the brightness on the screen, "Dawson hit the lights for me please and then we can begin."
She waits for darkness to fill the room to only be interrupted by the brightness shining in from the sun beating against the window. The contrast made it perfect to view the uploaded presentation.
"Hank Voight," Platt observes the body of every agent in the room tense up and stiffen when she says the name of who they are assigned to take down, "please open your folders to the first page so we can begin," she waits patiently before turning to the presentation she created late last night to skim the few words she has bolded, "majority of you know who this is and if you haven't heard of him, consider yourselves lucky. Hank Voight, mob boss and one of the most notorious and infamous leaders in the nation's criminal empire, with a surprisingly clear background check, he's never spent a day behind bars and he doesn't even have so much as a parking ticket to his name."
Halstead stares down into the eyes of Voight, sporting a mask of comfort that he knows is only a guise to make himself appear harmless, the DMV photo of him is not an accurate representation of who he truly is based on the crimes he's rumored to be behind. At the direction of Platt, he flips to the next page when the agents in the room are told to do so, "His son and oldest child, Justin Voight, groomed and molded to take over the family business when his father retires," Jay thinks about the little information he knows about this empire, knowing retire in their world means when he's dead, "some would argue he's more ruthless than dear old dad but that has yet to be proven, his background check also came up squeaky clean," to the next slide she clicks and to the next page, he flips, "majority of their money is allegedly made through weapons sales, not only nationally between states but internationally between countries as well. Surprisingly, they do not dabble in drug sales or smuggling. They also seem to stay clear of human trafficking. It appears maybe our crime lords do have the smallest of hearts beating in their chests," Platt cannot help herself with the sarcasm, "anyway, they do make money through different ventures in life, some legit and some illegal. The smallest of their profits comes from investments and small-scale loans, he's what some would call a loan shark, yet those he lends to have never met him or his son, it's the bottom of the org chart that handles that branch of business for him. And we know how that goes, desperate folks are looking for a loan and the banks won't give it so they turn to him and those at the bottom of the organization broker the deal, attaching on high rates of interest and due dates and when they miss their deadline, they're either physically hurt or their business or home just so happens to conveniently burn down after multiple missed payments."
"…and no one has ever been able to point him or any of his lackies to arson?"
Platt briefly looks over her shoulder to roll her eyes at Burgess, "Nope, if they did, it'd be mentioned in the presentation," she so smartly retorts, "anyway these are just a few photos of homes and businesses burnt to the ground courtesy of Voight's minions. They have a way of making it look like an accident to where arson is ruled out immediately."
Mutters of curses are heard around the room at the photos of rubble from businesses that couldn't hold up their end of the agreement. It's obvious this empire plays by its own rules, not even bothering to at least pretend to play by the rules of the government. Jay looks up from the file and meets Platt's gaze across the conference table, "it took months of research and deals to learn all of this stuff and to figure out a way to get you in, but once you're in, you'll have to work up the ladder and I am aware that it'll take a while because Hank doesn't trust easily, but we are on a time crunch. We're given no more than a year to produce results before we have to pull out."
That's damn near impossible. Easier cases have taken longer than a damn year.
Jay remains quiet because he knows it's out of his hands and out of her hands. Complaining and voicing dissent would be absolutely pointless and Jay chooses to save his words. This decision was made by those in corporate offices, flashing badges without the risk of getting hurt.
"Mouse has created a background for you," Platt begins, sliding another file in his direction, "your name will stay the same, it works easier that way. Your record includes a criminal history involving a few simple assaults. I told him to keep it as close to the truth as possible. He only stripped away any link or record there is of you to law enforcement. We'll get into the rest of it a little later." She turns back to her presentation, pausing for a moment when Kim's hand goes into the air, "Yes?"
"If they're able to make sure the fires look accidental, how do we know the Voights' are behind this?" A naïve question posed by a newbie agent that Platt finds herself questioning as to why she is even assigned to this case, she specifically asked for veteran agents.
"An informant disclosed it to us," she states simply and then turns back to the projector, "next we have Camille Voight," she clicks the remote and the screen changes to the DMV photo of Hank's late wife, "about seven years ago, she was killed in an explosion, a car bomb, investigators believe Hank Voight was the intended target. The man responsible," Platt clicks the remote to the next slide to reveal his image, "was in charge of a rival organization that Voight managed to take over after the death of his wife. The man who ordered the hit disappeared a few months after Camille's death. It is suspected that Voight is behind the disappearance."
"I wonder what gave that away," Upton sarcastically chuckled under her breath.
But, Platt with her heightened senses heard it, "Want to say that a little louder for the room or can I continue with this presentation? I haven't had breakfast yet Upton, I'm not a nice person when I don't have my breakfast." After an apology is muttered, Trudy continues, "Multiple properties are listed under the Voights' name, some specifically under Hank, some under Justin and some under Erin. The properties once registered to his wife were left to Erin."
"…and what about this Erin person?" Kevin questions, earning an eye roll from his boss.
Platt raises the remote, pointing it over her shoulder to face the screen before giving it a hard click to move the presentation along, "Erin Voight," Trudy announces as the DMV photo of said woman appears on the screen, "there is no evidence that points to any direct involvement between her and the family business. She is Hank Voight's youngest child, only daughter-"
"It says here that Camille is the biological mother of Justin but not Erin," Agent Ruzek points out.
"I was just getting there Adam," Platt said through gritted teeth, "it would be nice if everyone can save their questions to the end of the presentation because I most likely will have them answered in the slideshow," she clicks the remote and the screen switches to another woman, "as Adam pointed out, she and Justin Voight do not share the same mother. Erin Voight was the product of an affair," she nods towards the DMV photo of a woman who Jay suspects is her birth mother, "if you take a look on page four of the document I gave you," she pauses to allow the team to flip to the accurate page, "you'll see the rap sheet of Ms. Barbara Fletcher, Erin's birth mother, Voight's mistress, it's pretty colorful. Prison is practically Ms. Fletcher's second home. It is understood that for all intents and purposes, despite Ms. Fletcher's involvement in producing the child of a mob boss, she did not raise the child, Camille Voight did. It is also documented that Erin met her biological mother once in her life, when she was born, they do not have a relationship with one another due to Erin being raised as the daughter of Camille from birth."
Trudy could see the expressions on her agents' faces change, hinting towards questions ruminating through their mind. She sighs loudly, and sets the remote down on the conference table in front of her before asking, "What questions do you have?"
"What is the current relationship between Hank Voight and Barbara Fletcher?"
Platt turns to Agent Atwater to answer his question, "No contact between the two of them have been made since Erin's birth, at least no contact that has a trace. From what we can tell through records, Camille Voight is Erin's mother, the only mother she had. Can we move along now?"
Another hand goes into the air, belonging to Upton this time, earning a tired sigh from Platt that's ignored in order to ask her question, "If Erin isn't directly involved in the family business, then what does she do? And how does she make a living?"
Platt lifts the remote, moving to the next slide as she answers, "Just because she isn't involved in the business, does not mean she doesn't reap the rewards from it. Daddy," Trudy says the term mockingly, "gives his little mob princess a nice weekly allowance and besides that, Erin owns her own business," Platt turns to the screen, showcasing a photo of a nightclub with a blue and white illuminated sign reading EV, the owner's initials being utilized for the name of her club.
Mouse, their tech geek sits up, "I heard of that place," he reaches behind his ear and scratches bashfully, "I've actually been a few times. It's a pretty popular club, attracts tourists and locals and is always packed. Thursdays, anyone in law enforcement gets discount drinks, you just have to show your badge and you get a wrist band that gets you half price off your drinks all night."
"…which leads me to my next point," Platt clicks the remote, "it's how local and state police and the Voights have been getting along for so many years. It's suspiciously obvious considering no one from Voight's organization and empire has been arrested or questioned by them since the Voight family rose to power. They obviously have many cops and politicians in their pockets, we just don't know who and how many? We suspect," Platt briefly turns to the screen to examine what information is on it, "that although Erin isn't directly involved, some part of her business is used to conduct meetings," she holds up air quotes on that last word, "in one of the VIP rooms they have, meetings that range from Voight's weekly poker nights to after work meetings for Hank Voight's legitimate businesses. Our insider let us know that interrogations and work meetings with his illegal trading partners steer clear of Erin's business. Hank likes to keep her as little involved as possible, jumping right back to why I like to call her his little mob princess. It is unknown where those meetings are held, who is involved, their plans and goals, etc. It's why we are sending you undercover Halstead. You're our best agent for the job." Platt turns to face him, "and with this team's support, I have all the confidence in the world that you'll get the job done."
Jay sits up, the obvious chill straightening his spine at the reminder that it's him that's going to be risking his neck more than anyone. It goes without saying that when he infiltrates this organization, he won't be wired or have any way of communicating with the team. Once he's inside, he's alone and he'll have to fend for himself if shit hits the fan. He knows the decision to send him in is above his head, it's above Platt's head too, but before he can officially agree and be all in, he needs to know everything, especially how they intend to put him in the path of Hank Voight.
"How am I going to get in?" He voices the second every head in the room turns to him, each of them all relieved to know it won't be them going deep undercover, "Voight didn't make it to where he did by being stupid. How do I even get on his radar?"
"Good question," Platt says, catching every agent in the room off guard by her compliment; she points the remote again and when the screen changes to the mugshot of some random guy, she starts the second half of her presentation, "the infiltration," she names the next portion now that the background section is done, "our informant, Landon Vanick," her head nods towards his image, the age beneath his photo not matching with the aged look on his face, he looks about ten years older than his actual age, "we've offered him protective custody, including a name change and a new start anywhere in the country he would like if he is able to come up with a legitimate way to guarantee a meeting. He has come up with a plan that I believe is our best bet."
"…and what is that?" Upton whispers, concern for her partner obvious in her tone.
"Staging a robbery," Platt announces, nodding towards the folders in front of them, "please flip to page eight," she waits as they flip to the right page, "you will see schematics of EV."
"Erin's business," Jay whispers, shaking his head because he already doesn't like this idea, "I don't know. This sounds stupid. The plan to get me an introduction to Hank Voight is to stage a robbery on his daughter's business. The only thing that's guaranteed to get me is chopped into pieces."
Platt ignores him, instead choosing to continue detailing the plan, "it'll be near the end hours when Erin is closing up the business, we want as little civilian involvement as possible."
"Hold up, not only do you want to stage a robbery of her business but you want us to do it while she's there," Ruzek admonishes, "this plan is nuts. It's a suicide mission."
"It'll be completely safe. It'll be fake. No harm will come to her or anyone there."
"We'll know it's safe, but she won't," Jay argues, flipping back to the DMV photo in his file of Erin, picturing the fear that it'll inevitably put her through being in a supposed fake robbery.
"It won't be completed," Platt shouts, getting back to the point and sending a scolding look around the room, warning them with her expression to let her finish, "Jay will conveniently be there, along with whatever civilian stragglers in the bar getting their last drink in. He'll be there under the guise of looking for a job, maybe bartending or security at her business and he'll put a successful stop to it. Of course, it'll be only right and expected for Hank Voight to want to meet the man that not only protected his daughter's business but protected her as well. Once that introduction is made, the rest is left up to you and I'm very confident you'll do a remarkable job, Halstead."