In a secluded neighborhood, Ethan stopped the vehicle in front of a small alley. Hank's Cadillac was parked behind him, and the two communicated over the radio, in no hurry to get out of their cars.
Only when the others arrived one after another did they open their vehicle doors.
Gathered in one corner of the alley, their boots sinking into the thick snow, Ethan slipped his hands into his bulletproof vest, mimicking Hank, and looked at the others.
—Where are Olinsky and Ruzek?
—On surveillance. They've been following Perko's movements.
Hank stepped closer.
—He was released from the hospital a couple of hours ago. Now let's focus on Novak —he said, turning toward Antonio—. What do we have on him?
—According to my informant, Novak is hiding in there. No one has seen him leave —Antonio replied, carrying a battering ram as he pointed toward a house behind them—. The owner already declared bankruptcy, and a company seized the property on behalf of the bank.
Click.
Halstead forcefully closed the one-meter-long bolt cutters in his hands.
—Which means we don't need a search warrant.
—Let's go.
Seeing Erin and Sumner draw their pistols, Ethan brought the AR-15 up in front of him, gripping it with both hands as he led the way through the snow.
They reached the iron gate leading into the backyard, secured with a chain.
Halstead stepped forward, ready to use the bolt cutters. With a sharp metallic screech, the carelessly fastened chain fell to the ground.
Ethan slowly opened the iron gate and entered first.
Thanks to his exceptional shooting skills and quick reaction time, he was at the front of the formation, the first to expose himself and also the first line of protection for the others.
It was a narrow passage between two houses. He descended the steps with his weapon slightly raised, carefully scanning his surroundings.
Neither house had any lights on.
Either they had the wrong place, or…
When he spotted the back door slightly ajar, a mocking smile appeared on his face.
—Hold up. Something's not right —Ethan said, raising his hand in a tactical signal to stop the others lined up behind him—. I think Novak has company.
Antonio dropped the battering ram and quickly drew his pistol.
Behind him, Halstead also leaned the bolt cutters against the wall, stepped forward, and grabbed the doorknob.
When Ethan gave him a hand signal, he activated his radar, but saw nothing. Halstead suddenly threw the back door open.
—Go in!
Even though he already knew there was no one inside, he still had to pretend.
—Chicago Police!
The instant the back door opened, Ethan raised his weapon and rushed inside.
Barely across the threshold, he spotted a body lying on the kitchen floor. He called out the warning and began clearing the other rooms.
The others followed, quickly eliminating potential threats while covering one another.
—Body.
—Clear.
—Another body here.
—Upstairs, clear.
A short while later, it was confirmed that there was no one alive anywhere in the house, and everyone returned to the first floor.
Besides the body in the kitchen, another five bodies lay scattered throughout the interior rooms.
Blood was splattered everywhere, and the white walls were stained red.
Something had gone wrong.
Someone had gotten there first.
This was a temporary hideout for the Two-Threes. Since the original owner had declared bankruptcy, there wasn't much inside: just a broken mattress on the floor and a small low table in the room.
There was fast food sitting on the table, with a few French fries scattered across the floor.
Ethan then picked up a glass of cola and shook it, listening to the ice clinking inside.
—This happened not long ago —Ethan said in a deep voice, setting the glass back on the table.
—Search the scene.
Hank holstered his Glock.
—Let's see what we can find.
Bzzzt.
His phone vibrated, and he reached into his pocket.
A moment later, Hank's expression darkened even further.
—Perko is dead.
—What?
Ethan put on his gloves.
—What happened?
He wasn't the only one confused. Everyone looked at Hank strangely. Perko had only recently been released from the hospital and was under surveillance, so how could he have suddenly been killed?
—While Olinsky and the others were following him, someone disguised as a homeless man shot Perko at point-blank range while he was stopped at a light.
Hank clenched his teeth and shook his head.
—The homeless guy got away.
—Shit. Then Perko must have been the mole —Ethan said with a mocking smile as he looked at the bodies on the floor.
—Once they were no longer useful, they got rid of them —Ethan said, looking at Hank—. I think there were more people involved.
He nodded slightly toward the entrance.
—The door wasn't forced. They were expecting someone, or at the very least, they didn't consider that person a threat. That's why they were caught off guard. Look at the scene. They barely had time to react. They didn't even have a chance to defend themselves properly.
Hank narrowed his eyes as he followed Ethan's reasoning.
—Once they had done the difficult part of the job —Ethan continued—, the others came in, eliminated them, and took everything for themselves.
—They silenced them —Erin interrupted—. That way, they could minimize the risk.
—Exactly.
Hank looked at the body on the bed.
—This person is Dennis Novak.
Antonio exhaled sharply and looked at the corpse with a cold expression.
—I already told you. Robbing a bank, a job that complicated, was way beyond their capabilities. Someone planned it for them. Novak and his people were just the scapegoats.
Ethan shrugged and began examining the crime scene.
Eight million was a tempting amount of money, but it was also extremely risky.
Ethan walked toward a corner and found a few things inside the trash can. Using two fingers, he rummaged through it a couple of times before pulling out several black masks.
They were amateurs. They hadn't even bothered to get rid of the evidence.
Beside him, Halstead examined the wall. There was a small but visible hole in the plaster. He pulled out a knife and carefully scraped around the impact, removing fragments until he extracted a deformed bullet from inside.
He placed the bullet in the palm of his hand and held it out.
—It's a .22-caliber hollow-point round. It has very little recoil, but that doesn't significantly reduce its lethality. Hitmen like using them.
Antonio motioned for Ethan and Halstead to come over.
He and Hank were kneeling beside the body in the kitchen.
—I don't think this guy was with the Croatians.
When the two approached, Antonio pointed toward the pendant hanging around the corpse's neck.
—Look at this —Antonio said, pointing to the pendant around the corpse's neck.
Ethan leaned closer to get a better look. It was a small silver medal, darkened from wear and stained with blood around the edges. In the center, he could still make out the figure of a crowned Virgin holding the Child in her arms.
Antonio carefully held it between his gloved fingers.
—Our Lady Help of Christians of Sabaneta —he said in a grave voice—. In Medellín, many people know her as the Virgin of the Sicarios.
Halstead frowned.
Ethan looked at the body lying on the kitchen floor, then toward the interior rooms.
—This guy didn't come here to hide with them.
—No —Antonio confirmed—. The body has several gunshot wounds to the chest, all from the front. Judging by the position in which he fell, he was shot from inside.
However, the incident had happened suddenly. Novak had been caught off guard and killed by the Colombians.
Sumner and Erin searched the scene carefully once more before heading outside together.
Erin spread her hands and continued.
—There's no sign of the money.
—That was to be expected. Whoever is behind all this wasn't going to leave it lying around —Hank said, patting Antonio on the shoulder—. Have forensics come and take the fingerprints from our devout friend. Hopefully, we'll find his record and whether he has any known associates.
—Okay. I'll take care of it.
Antonio nodded, raised his hand, and keyed his radio. He not only had to notify the forensic team, but also patrol officers and an ambulance.
Once most of the investigation was complete, Intelligence wrapped up its work and returned to the precinct, leaving the rest to the other departments.
They had expected a confrontation, but everything had turned into a cleanup operation, which left everyone frustrated.
Back on the second floor, Jin was busy working in front of the whiteboard.
Its surface was already covered with photographs placed close together.
Perko's photo had been updated with a recent picture.
There were already eleven dead people on the board, their photographs carefully arranged. Every one of them represented a death.
—Understood, Chief.
Inside the office, Hank hung up the phone after a brief exchange.
—The chief wants us to find the culprits as soon as possible —Hank said as he stepped out of the office, his expression serious—. I've already been authorized for overtime and whatever else we need to find them, so get to work.
No one answered.
Just as everyone fell silent, Olinsky and Ruzek came up to the second floor.
When Ruzek saw the photographs on the board, he couldn't help but stop.
—Goddamn, this is a massacre.
—Hey.
Olinsky tossed Jin the evidence bag he was carrying.
—I got the phone before they could burn everything connected to Perko. See if you can find anything.
—Okay.
Jin took the phone and quickly headed downstairs.
Hank stood beside the board.
—All right. What do we have so far?
—Based on what we have so far, Perko was the piece connecting everything —Antonio said, organizing the files in his hands as he tried to make sense of the bigger picture—. As the bank vault manager, he knew in advance that they were going to receive a large amount of cash.
He placed a folder on the table and continued.
—Perko saw an opportunity and contacted some old associates to organize the heist from both inside and outside. His idea was simple: steal the money and disappear with enough cash to retire.
—But something went wrong —he added, looking at the photographs on the board—. For some reason, the Colombians found out about the plan, either before or after the robbery. They let Perko and his people handle the most dangerous part, waited for the right moment, and then attacked them to take the money.
—Then they silenced everyone involved. Novak, his crew, and Perko himself.
Everyone nodded silently. That was more or less what had happened.
—Now our objective has completely changed —Hank said, resting a hand against his chin, his brow furrowed—. We're no longer just looking for the people responsible for the robbery. We're looking for a group of Colombians who killed all the witnesses and took the money.
His gaze swept across the board covered in photographs.
—The problem is that everyone connected to Perko is dead. And if the Colombians did their job properly, they didn't leave us much of a trail to follow.
Everyone nodded. That was more or less what had happened.
—Wait… there's still one person who isn't dead and who was also at the crime scene.
Ethan snapped his fingers and walked toward the board. He picked up a marker and tapped his temple several times with the tip, trying to organize his thoughts.
—Miguel González —he suddenly said—. If I remember correctly, wasn't he a Colombian immigrant?
Ethan wrote the name on the board.
—At first, I didn't suspect anything about him. He didn't have any apparent connection to anyone, he was a new employee, and he had no record in our database, so I dismissed him too quickly.
He put the marker down and rested one hand against the edge of the board.
—But now that we know the Colombians are involved, his presence no longer looks like a coincidence. It looks far too convenient.
Everyone looked at him attentively.
Ethan pointed to the name written on the board.
—Our database only includes records from within the United States. Colombia doesn't directly share its criminal records system with us. If we want to know who Miguel González was before he came here, we'll have to request the information through Interpol.
—You're saying González was involved from the very beginning?
—Yes. He was involved. He must have contacted the Croatians somehow. We're talking about an enormous amount of money.
Hank narrowed his eyes, following the reasoning.
—So someone had to act as an intermediary.
—Exactly —Ethan said—. It's possible González contacted Perko somehow, but not directly. He needed a bridge, someone he trusted enough to listen to the proposal.
Antonio immediately looked up, as if a missing piece had suddenly fallen into place.
—His brother, Dominic —he exclaimed—. If you can't trust your own brother, who can you trust?
The silence that followed was answer enough.
Dominic was undoubtedly the most logical choice as an intermediary. Because of that, he probably knew the details of what had happened and how the heist had been planned.
—Hmm.
Hank quickly nodded at the suggestion.
—You have a point.
He looked toward the board.
—We can try putting pressure on Dominic. If your assumption is correct, we might be able to get information about the Colombians through him.
—Guys.
Jin came running up the stairs, interrupting their conversation.
—I found an unusual number. There are eleven call records, all from the same location. It could be Perko's accomplice.
—Get in touch with the judge —Hank said in a hoarse voice—. Request a warrant to review the contents of the calls from that number.
Then he looked at him carefully.
—Also, what prison is he serving his sentence in?
—The warrant is already being processed. As for the answer to your second question…
Jin handed the phone to Antonio.
—The Metropolitan.
He paused briefly.
Hank's eyes lit up when he heard that.
He quickly began issuing orders.
—Antonio, help Jin get the warrant. I need to know what those two talked about.
He looked toward Ruzek.
Then he turned to Ethan.
—Ethan, grab your things. We're going to pay Dominic a visit.
Finally, he looked at the rest of the team.
—Everyone else, review all the surveillance footage around the crime scene from this morning. Try to find footage of the killer disguised as a homeless man and reconstruct his escape route.
Ethan took a sip of coffee and hurried out of the precinct alongside Hank.