Chapter 2 - Game of Probabilities

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"Did you really have to be that hard on her right off the bat?"

Erin Lindsay cast a sideways glance at her father figure from the passenger seat, watching his profile as he guided the car through the early afternoon Chicago traffic. Hank Voight was a man who liked things his way. He didn't try to hide it. In fact, it was something he leaned into more often than not. He felt it made him a better cop. He learned to trust his instincts, regardless of what those around him thought about his methods. And his instinct was telling him that Kate Meadows was one to be watched.

"Look, if she can't take the heat, she can get out of my damn kitchen."

He heard Erin huff, crossing her arms over her chest at his response.

"You don't even know her. Don't you think you should at least give her a chance?"

"What do you think I'm doing? I didn't send her packing did I?" He knew his tone was condescending but he couldn't quite bring himself to care.

Erin scoffed at his response. "Yeah, because Miller asked you to."

"I trust Sam Miller." He said simply, stopping the conversation dead. He had already read through Katherine Grace Meadows' file. Twice, in fact. He knew she was born in September 1988 to Philip and Grace Meadows. He knew she had an older brother called Matthew who was a neurosurgeon at New York Pres. He knew her parents divorced when she was eight and he knew that she graduated top of her class from Harvard. But instead of taking the offer to work at one of Boston's most prestigious law firms, she chose to enrol into the Boston Police Academy. What he couldn't work out was why? Why would the daughter of a white-collar, upper-middle class family decide to throw all of that to the wind and become a cop?

It irritated him to no end that he hadn't worked out that part of the puzzle yet and it made him nervous having a member of his team that he didn't have a complete read on. Hank wasn't a fan of surprises when it came to his team and this woman was almost certainly going to cause him a headache in some way, shape or form if he didn't figure it out.

He bought the car to a stop outside of a shady looking bar, turning off the engine but making no move to get out.

"Got a lead from a CI that Janowicz's business partner would be here this afternoon to meet with Rusev's crew." He could see Erin's forehead crinkle in confusion.

"In the middle of the day?"

Hank hiked his shoulders slightly, not taking his eyes off the front door of the bar across the street.

"What? You think dodgy deals only ever go down at nighttime?" He asked, amusement clear in his voice.

Erin once again rolled her eyes but also turned her head to watch the front of the bar.

"So, if we can catch the business partner bang to rights, we can use that as leverage to get him to roll on Janowicz." Erin said, following Hank's train of thought perfectly.

"You got it." He waited beat before continuing. "We catch him with a trunk load of smack and the very real prospect of life without parole, he's going to sing like a canary."

They weren't waiting for too long before they saw a white male fitting Janowicz's business partner's description pull up in a blacked out SUV outside of the bar. For all intents and purposes, he looked like a 'normal' business man. Dressed in a sharp suit with slicked back blonde hair, you wouldn't have guessed for one second this guy was peddling drugs for the Russian mob. Perhaps that's why they hired him.

"Here we go." Hank muttered, sitting up a little straighter with his eyes trained on the scene before him. The man disappeared into the bar and Hank pulled the radio up to his mouth.

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