Danny's former unit buddy lived in a small house in a modest working-class neighborhood on Chicago's East Side. They had no proof that he was helping him, but he was the only person from Danny's military past who lived in the city and could provide him with a place to hide.
Three unmarked vehicles traveled down the street, maintaining some distance between them. Hank was in the lead with Erin beside him, while the rest of Intelligence occupied the cars following behind.
—Stay alert.
Hank slowed down when the house appeared at the end of the street. Without taking his eyes off the property, he picked up the radio.
—The suspect has military training and knows how to handle explosives. Consider him armed and extremely dangerous. If you see him, don't give him a chance to react.
—Copy that.
The responses came one after another.
Hank pulled over beside the curb. From the outside, the house appeared quiet: the curtains were drawn, there was no movement behind the windows, and a car was parked in front of the garage.
Erin tightened the straps of her bulletproof vest and rested one hand on her weapon before opening the door. They had spent hours reviewing surveillance footage, trapped in front of screens while Danny stayed one step ahead of them.
Frustration was still boiling inside her, but the moment she stepped out of the vehicle, all that impatience turned into focus.
—If he's in there, I want him alive —Hank murmured as he joined her—. We need to know what he was planning.
The two of them took the lead while Olinsky and Antonio followed close behind. All four quickly crossed the front yard, keeping an eye on the windows and watching for any movement around the house.
When they reached the porch, Hank positioned himself on one side of the entrance. Antonio and Olinsky covered the other.
Erin raised her fist.
Bang, bang, bang!
—Chicago Police!
The muffled sound of a television came from inside. For several seconds, no one answered.
Erin knocked again, harder this time.
—Open the door!
—Who is it? —a deep voice finally shouted.
Heavy footsteps approached. The wooden floor creaked beneath every step until the deadbolt slid back and the door opened only a few inches.
A burly man with broad shoulders and a thick beard appeared before them. His massive body occupied nearly the entire doorway.
He looked at Erin first, then at the rest of the officers.
—What do you want?
—Good afternoon. Are you Marcus Hale?
—Yes, I am.
Erin pulled one side of her jacket aside and displayed the badge hanging over her vest.
—Detective Lindsay, Chicago Police. We just want to ask you a few questions.
The man glanced down at the badge and then looked back at her without opening the door any farther.
—About what?
—Danny Reese, an old unit buddy of yours from when you served in Iraq.
For the first time, the man's expression changed slightly.
Erin noticed.
—Are you alone in the house, or is someone else here with you? —Erin asked with apparent casualness.
The man hesitated for only a moment before answering.
—I'm alone. Why?
—Routine question.
Erin held his gaze for several seconds before continuing:
—Have you spoken to him recently? Have you seen him or received any calls from him?
—Danny?
The man repeated the name as though he needed a few seconds to remember it. He scratched his beard and frowned, feigning confusion.
—I haven't spoken to him in years. Haven't seen him since our last deployment —he replied before looking at the officers with some unease—. Is he in trouble?
—Yes, your former unit buddy may be in serious trouble, so it would help him a great deal if you told us the truth. Have you seen him recently? —Erin pressed, ignoring his question.
The man shrugged.
—I already told you. I don't know anything about him, and I can't help you.
—No problem. Thank you for your time.
Erin pretended to accept the answer, but before stepping away, she cast one last glance toward the living room.
There were two open bottles of Budweiser on the table.
Her expression didn't change. She merely shifted her eyes toward Hank for an instant. He followed her gaze and understood immediately.
The man wasn't alone.
Then they heard a toilet flush.
Everyone fell silent.
The bathroom door beside the living room opened, and a short-haired man emerged while finishing tucking in his shirt. He had a small scar on his forehead.
When he raised his head and saw the police at the entrance, he froze.
Erin recognized him from the photographs.
—Danny Reese! Chicago Police! Don't move! Keep your hands where I can see them! —Erin ordered, reaching for her weapon.
—Danny! —the bearded man roared—. Run!
The shout shattered the stillness.
Danny reacted instantly. He spun around and ran toward the back of the house, knocking over a chair as he went.
—Stop, Reese! —Hank shouted.
He and Erin lunged toward the entrance, but the burly man planted his feet in the doorway and blocked their path with his entire body.
—Move! —Erin ordered.
—You'll have to go through me first!
The man spread his enormous arms and charged at them like a bull. His shoulder struck Hank in the chest while one of his arms dragged Erin inside.
Boom!
All three crashed heavily onto the entryway floor. Hank slammed his shoulder against the wall, and Erin barely managed to protect her head before the man's weight crushed her against the floor.
During the struggle, they collided with a cabinet. The wood shuddered, and the porcelain figurines on top tumbled to the floor, shattering around them.
—Antonio, go after Danny! —Olinsky shouted.
He threw himself onto the bearded man's back and wrapped an arm around his thick neck, trying to pull him off Hank and Erin.
The hulking man grunted, dug his boots into the floor, and began thrashing violently in an attempt to break free.
Crash!
The noise came from the back of the house.
Danny hadn't even stopped to open the glass door. He smashed through it with his body and burst into the backyard amid a shower of fragments. Several shards clung to his clothes, but he kept running without looking back.
Antonio raced past the group still struggling on the floor.
The bearded man managed to stretch out a leg and hook his ankle.
Antonio lost his balance. He stumbled forward several steps and nearly crashed into the wall, but he braced himself with one hand, regained his footing, and continued the pursuit.
—Danny, stop!
He jumped over the remains of the glass door and disappeared after him behind the house.
The bearded man twisted violently, threw Olinsky to the floor, and landed on top of him with all his weight.
—Oh!
Olinsky stood close to six feet tall and weighed around two hundred pounds, but the impact nearly knocked the wind out of him.
Hank managed to break free, turned, and drove his elbow into the burly man's head.
With Olinsky clinging to his neck and after taking that blow, the man finally lost consciousness.
—Fuck, my old bones —Olinsky complained—. Get this animal off me!
Erin pushed herself up, clutching her head. She and Hank rolled the unconscious man over, allowing Olinsky to catch his breath.
—Go help them! —Hank ordered as he pulled out his handcuffs.
—Copy that.
Erin struck the floor in frustration, crossed the living room, and ran toward the back of the house.
After handcuffing the bearded man, Hank helped Olinsky to his feet. They exchanged a look, shook their heads, and smiled bitterly.
They weren't as young as they used to be.
Then Hank noticed a backpack beside the couch. He approached it, yanked the zipper open, and caught his breath.
Inside were detonators, wires, several blocks of C4, and a SIG Sauer M17, the standard-issue sidearm of the United States Army.
Hurried footsteps echoed from the other side of the hallway.
—My God... has this guy lost his mind?
Olinsky appeared, still catching his breath, and approached the open bag on the table. The moment he saw its contents, his expression changed.
Olinsky slowly raised his gaze.
—Where the hell did they get this?
Detonators.
Wires.
Enough material to turn practically any location into the scene of a terrorist attack.
—Damn it.
Hank put on a pair of gloves as he spoke in a hoarse voice.
—I hope Antonio catches that bastard.
Antonio had run through the back door, stepping over the broken glass as he chased Danny.
A vacant lot stretched out behind the house.
Scattered trees.
Bushes covered in snow. Danny, dressed in a black T-shirt, stood out clearly against the white landscape.
His figure was visible in the distance as he ran desperately.
However, Antonio had stumbled at the beginning of the pursuit, and it had cost him several seconds.
The distance between them had already grown to forty or fifty yards.
—Stop or I'll shoot!
All Antonio could do was shout as he pushed himself to run as fast as possible.
Danny ran ahead, with Antonio only a few yards behind him.
Both men were well trained. Antonio couldn't close the distance, but Danny couldn't widen it either. It had turned into an exhausting game of cat and mouse.
That wasn't good news for Antonio. For Danny, it was even worse: the longer the pursuit continued, the more time nearby units would have to cut off every escape route.
Danny reached an embankment and began climbing the slope, digging his feet into the loose earth.
—Danny, stop! —Antonio shouted without slowing down.
The fugitive looked over his shoulder. Antonio was still behind him, drawing closer.
Panic appeared in his eyes.
Without breaking stride, Danny quickly pulled off his sweater.
—Ah!
He shouted, leaped, and disappeared behind the embankment.
Splash!
The sound of something heavy striking the water made Antonio accelerate even more.
About ten seconds later, he reached the top.
He stopped dead.
There was a river below.
The surface was covered with chunks of ice.
Just looking at it sent a chill through him.
Danny was swimming desperately through the freezing water, allowing the current to carry him slightly as he made his way toward the opposite bank.
He had already managed to widen the distance.
And he was close to reaching the other side.
—Shit!
Antonio cursed and quickly began removing some of his gear.
—Are you crazy?
Just as he was about to jump into the river, Erin appeared behind him and grabbed him tightly.
—Let me go!
—Not a chance.
By then, Danny had already reached the opposite bank.
Soaked from head to toe, he struggled to drag himself out of the water and quickly disappeared among the reeds.
Erin grabbed her radio.
—Suspect fleeing on foot.
She immediately transmitted the direction.
—I need patrol units on the opposite side of the river. Repeat, suspect on foot.
Antonio stared angrily at the other bank.
—That guy is completely insane.
He put his jacket back on.
Danny had jumped into a freezing river in the middle of winter without hesitation.
A single cramp would have been enough to kill him.
Antonio gathered the clothes Danny had left behind.
Antonio and Erin returned to the house, their frustration evident.
Danny had swum across the river and disappeared on the opposite bank. Their only option now was to call in the canine unit, although the chances of picking up his trail didn't seem particularly good. The water had probably washed away most of his scent.
By the time they arrived, Hank and the others already knew what had happened from the radio. Even they seemed surprised by Danny's desperation in throwing himself into a river in the middle of winter.
The only good news was that he had escaped unarmed. At least they didn't have to worry about a madman roaming Chicago with a backpack full of explosives.
The situation was already bad enough without that.
During a second search of the house, the officers found more weapons and a considerable amount of explosive material. They also confirmed the bearded man's identity: he was a low-level member of a local gang.
Hank and Olinsky took him back to the district for questioning.
Antonio and Erin remained in the area. They drove to the other side of the river and continued the search alongside several patrol units.
It didn't take them long to find a trail of uneven footprints in the snow. Danny had staggered out of the water and headed toward the nearby houses.
They followed the trail to a home whose back door had been forced open.
Inside, they found several wet articles of clothing abandoned on the floor. Danny had broken in, stolen dry clothes, and escaped again before they could establish a perimeter.
The canine officers let the dogs smell the discarded clothing. The trail led them through several streets to a busy intersection.
There, it disappeared.
Erin watched the steady stream of vehicles moving along the avenue. Danny could have climbed into a car, taken a taxi, or threatened a driver. From that point on, he could be anywhere in Chicago.
Antonio clenched his jaw, still angry that he had lost him.
Erin patted him on the shoulder a couple of times.
—Come on. You're not going to find him by standing here and staring at the traffic.
Antonio exhaled in frustration.
—I was only a few yards away from him.
—And we'll get that close again —Erin replied—. Next time, he won't make it to the river.
She pointed upward at the traffic cameras.
Antonio closed his eyes for a moment.
Again.
They were right back where they had started: once again, endless hours of reviewing surveillance footage awaited them.
They were right back where they had started: once again, endless hours of reviewing surveillance footage awaited them.