Hailey's POV
Hailey was anxious to interview the Jane Doe. But she was also anxious to delve into Brad's files. The files can wait; Jane Doe can't. With a sigh, she opened the bottom drawer of her desk and dumped the files.
ICU at Chicago Med
The unit was a madhouse. The staff had their hands full as two patients were crashing simultaneously. She caught a glimpse of Samantha darting in and out of a room at the other side of the unit. No need to bother her.
Hailey approached the desk. "I'm Detective Upton. Where's the Jane Doe?"
The nurse shook his head and indicated the room at the end. "I'm sorry. She's gone comatose again." Hailey could see two physicians moving around the cramped room as they checked various monitors.
"Not what I wanted to hear." Hailey sighed and looked back to the nurse. "Any idea if she'll come out of it?"
"She could wake up again in five minutes or five days. No way to tell."
"Understood," said Hailey. "Sam has my number if anything changes."
The nurse was reaching for one of the ringing phones. "Got it," he nodded.
Hailey moved away from the desk, but continued to watch the girl's room. Should I hang around? Should I return to the District? After a couple minutes, she dug her keys out of her pocket and walked to the elevator.
At the District
For over an hour, Hailey carefully analyzed Brad's files. Her investigative method was to completely go through a file, then read it a second time and take notes. This differed from her husband's method. Jay would immediately whip out a legal pad and jot down relevant info on the first pass. He would verify after a second reading.
But now she realized she'd been staring at the same screen for the last 5 minutes. She closed her eyes and massaged her forehead. What did I just read? Sleep. I really need sleep. With an effort, she opened her eyes and swept everything back into the bottom drawer.
When she reached the parking lot, Hailey, out of habit, scanned the area. Some early shift patrol officers were coming in and everything seemed in order.
She drove home on autopilot as she considered everything she'd read. Brad had not lied about the information in the files. In fact, it was so damning that he might have to go into witness protection. That's probably not something he thought about.
Across town, Dimitri was awakened by an early phone call. He recognized the number as that of his PI.
"Da?" he answered.
"I found her. I found your little blonde," the man said.
Dimitri was wide awake now and shouting into the phone. "Where? What about Smithson? He's the one I want! When I get my hands on him . . ."
The PI held the phone away from his ear. "Dimitri!" he yelled back. "Get a grip, before you stroke out." A full minute passed before the Russian ran out of steam.
Finally, the PI was able to relate what he'd found. "Da . . . da," said Dimitri even as he input an address into his phone's GPS.
"I'll inform Sergei," said Dimitri. "He will be, what is that expression, 'over the mountain.'"
"Moon. Over the moon," said the PI.
Fatigue and a distracted mind led to what happened next. As Hailey opened the front door, a man in dark clothing rushed up behind her. She hadn't even heard him approach. They struggled and tumbled into the apartment. As Hailey reached for her weapon, it was knocked out of her hand. The assailant grabbed her arm, but, she twisted and slid out of her jacket, grabbing the small flower pot to hurl at him.
A black hood came down over her head as the man hustled her out the door. Hailey went limp. The man stumbled and scraped the side of his head against the wall. He muttered what was probably a curse.
Russian, thought Hailey. It's either Sergei or one of his flunkies.
"You won't get away with this, Sergei. My unit will hunt you down with a vengeance. You won't be safe anywhere on this planet."
More Russian followed. Either he doesn't understand English or was told to keep quiet.
"You small, but talk big," said the man. "Talk big to Sergei and see what happens. His temper very short."
"So, you do speak English," said Hailey. "I want to talk to Sergei. I have lots of questions for him." The man snorted and tossed her in the back of a van. Then he rolled her on her stomach and tied her hands with what felt like pantyhose. The rear door slammed, the driver's door opened and closed and they rolled out of the parking lot.
Okay, so this isn't Sergei. And pantyhose? What self-respecting criminal doesn't carry zip ties? But this is good. I can get out of this. Do I still have my phone?
She had a sick feeling that her phone had been lost in the scuffle. Maybe there's something in here I can use as a weapon. If I can get this damn hood off.
At the District
Brad scrambled to his feet and tried not to shake when Voight came toward the cage. "Did you find Detective Upton?" he stammered. He could feel his anal sphincter seize up. He had tried to be a big shot, but it backfired. He was really just a coward.
Voight gave him that intense stare again. "No. And I have another missing girl." He opened the folder and pulled out a photo. "Do you know her?"
Brad looked at the pretty young woman and shook his head. "No . . . maybe. You gotta understand, a lot of girls came and went there."
"Her name is Irina Vassilieva. I don't know what name she may have worked under," said Voight.
"Irina." Brad looked at the ceiling and frowned.
Is this guy really remembering something or just stalling for time? wondered Voight.
"Irina. I think she went by "Stacy" for dates."
"Okay," nodded Voight. He removed another piece of paper from the folder. "What about this warehouse you rented for Sergei Zhurov six weeks ago? What was that for?"
"He didn't say; I didn't ask. I swear. Sometimes it was better not to know what those guys were up to."
"Location?"
"Somewhere around The Silos. Near 29th Street."
Voight processed that info and headed for the stairs. He was intimately familiar with The Silos.
The Bullpen
"Listen up. Brad said this warehouse is near The Silos. Hailey could be there, Irina could be there. If we're lucky, they both are."
"Boss, there are a lot of empty warehouses in that area," said Kevin.
"And abandoned houses," added Kim.
"That's right. That's why we need to gear up right now and head out. Time's running out."
The van drove around for at least half an hour before grinding to a halt . . . somewhere. Hailey was yanked out and marched into an empty building and tied to a folding chair.
"Where's Sergei? Is he already here?" she boldly asked. "I want to talk to him."
"Stop talking," said her kidnapper and hit her upside the head. Everything went black.