Here We Are (A Chicago P.D. ff)

1- Newbie

Huh, I thought as I read the piece of paper in my hands. This can't be right. They don't accept people very often. They couldn't have picked me out of all people. I just moved back.

I heard my phone vibrate on the glass coffee table near my red couch.

"Sydney Morell, this is Hank Voight with Chicago Intelligence. First of all, welcome to the job. Second, we have a case that requires all the help we can get. So, I need you to come on in and get started today. Up for the challenge?" He practically pleaded.

"Uh..." I hesitated. "Yeah, sure! What's a better way to get settled into the job than this?" I nervously laughed.

"You've got a point. Be here in an hour. The team will be waiting." He hung up.

I wiped my sweaty, clammy hands on my pajama pants and dashed to my closet.

What does a girl wear to her first day on the job?

I yanked out a black blazer, black skinny jeans, and a houndstooth peplum top. I debated on wearing heels but if I got into any drama today, I'd thank myself for wearing flats.

I threw it all on and finished my hair and face. I still had half an hour before he wanted me there, but it was probably best to be early.

I got in my car and drove to the Chicago Police Department.
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I breathed in deeply. It was all about to happen. My life's dream was coming true today. I finally worked up enough courage to open my car door and grab everything I needed out of the trunk. I made my way up the steps to the front door. I wasn't watching where I was going and fell forward. The box went flying out of my hands and fell onto the ground with a loud thud.

"Miss, are you ok?" A man ran up to me and tried to help me up. He looked like he was in his late thirties to early forties. His voice has a slight Spanish accent to it.

I laughed a little. "I'm fine really."

"Let me help you with that." He gathered all of my papers and the other spilt contents of the box. "Where are you taking this to?"

"Intelligence. It's my first day on the job."

At first he looked at me like I was crazy, but then he realized something. "Oh! You're Sydney. Well, Sydney, it's your lucky day." He held his hand out for me to shake. "Antonio Dawson. Chicago Intelligence. It's nice to be working with you."

"Thanks. Likewise."

"Whoa. Hank must really need everyone today. Calling on a newbie during one of the hardest cases of the year? This should be interesting."

He lead me past the front desk and up some stairs. Antonio put his hand in a scanner type thing and punched in a code shortly after. "We'll get you set up for that later," he smiled.

Past the gate was another set of stairs and finally I saw the department. It wasn't fancy by any means, but I loved it.

He stopped in the middle of the room, making everyone look up from what they were doing. "Guys, this is Sydney Morell. She's our new detective." He walked over to a vacant desk and gently set the box on top of it.

A man stood up and walked over to me. His gray hair and beard looked scruffy and made him seem rugged, but his warm smile made all of that disappear. "Hey there, Morell! Detective Alvin Olinsky. Nice to meet you. Let me introduce you to my other partners."

He directed me to a man with reddish blonde hair. "This is Adam Ruzek."

"Hey!" He waved.

"This is Erin Lindsay."

She walked over to me and handed me a file folder. "Sorry today is your first day. It's gonna be a rough one," she grinned. She pointed over to what must be the break room. "Intelligence Officer Kevin Atwater and Patrol Officers Kim Burgess and Sean Roman. They help out up here sometimes."

I heard footsteps from the stairs behind me.

"Detective Morell, you're early." The scratchy voice sounded familiar.

Erin turned around the same time I did. "Great! You're both here. We can get started."

The two men approached me with their hands extended. "Hey, I'm Jay Halstead," one of them said. He placed his leather jacket on the back of his desk chair and nodded towards the other guy. "And that man right there is the boss of this whole department."

He greeted me with a worried smile. "Sergeant Hank Voight. Welcome to Intelligence."

"Thanks."

"Take a seat and we'll fill you in on this case."

I rolled the black chair out from the wooden desk and did as I was told.

Voight clapped his hands together to gather everyone's attention. "Alright, so about six weeks ago a father reported his ten year old son missing. The next week a mother called in to tell Chicago P.D. that her nine year old son was missing. Ever since that first call, a little boy goes missing every week."

"Except for today." Antonio grabbed a picture off of his desk and slapped it onto a white marker board in the front of the room. "This morning, a grandmother called in to inform us that her seven year old granddaughter is missing."

"And we're pretty sure the cases are connected," Voight added.

"We believe that the suspect is male and is holding the seven children somewhere private and secluded," Erin said.

"Chances are this man is probably using the girl for sexual relations with the boys."

"Any leads on who might be holding them?" I asked.

"One, but it's not our best bet."

Another photo was added to the board.

"Walter Kinston. 45. Caucasian. Record's clean except for a bank robbery five years ago. He not the suspect, but he might know him."

Kim Burgess ran into the main room looking satisfied with herself. "Sergeant, I found a house that's been abandoned for about seven weeks. It might be the suspect's house."

"Guys!" Sean Roman ran behind his partner. "There's a report of a storage warehouse being used a couple of miles outside of Chicago. Might be it."

"Do you know who it belongs to?" Voight asked.

"A guy named Francis Slate."

Kim looked like she had just put a one thousand piece puzzle together. "That's the owner of the house that's abandoned."

Voight ran into what was probably his office. "Lindsay, Dawson, you're with me. We're going to go interview Walter Kinston and see if he knows Francis Slate. Halstead, Morell, go check the house. See if you can find any indication of those missing kids. Burgess, Roman, Ruzek, Olinsky, Atwater, go to the warehouse. Call backup and SWAT if there is anything suspicious."

Everyone grabbed their jackets and phones. I awkwardly stood to the side, not knowing what to do.

"Sydney, come on," Jay waved at me.

"Sorry! I'm coming."