When an undercover gig turns into something bigger than they would expect.
BOOK 1 : UNDERCOVER
BOOK 2 : DETECTIVES
Highest ranking: #1 - jayhalstead , #20- jay , #2- chicagofire, #1 - chicagopd, #1 - onechicago, #1 - halstead
*I do not own anything...
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Jay
"Voight." I heard my Sergeant's voice boom through the phone.
"Sarge, we got a problem." I told him, talking as lowly as I could whilst I shut my bedroom door.
"What is it? Are you okay?" He asked me quickly and I heard movement in the background, like he was hurrying to get up.
"Yeah, no. I'm fine, it's just, the girl I was telling you about? Well she figured me out, figured I was a fake." I explained, running my fingers through my hair as I sat on the couch. I glanced at the bedroom where said girl was currently sleeping.
"Do you think she'll snitch?" He wondered, finally settling down.
"No, I truly don't. She said she'd help as much as she could, testify, anything. On one condition." I informed him, "We get her out."
"Alright. We can do that."
"Good, good."
"But Jay, don't tell her. Just tell her we'll do everything we can. No promises, we don't know if taking all of them down will actually work." He reminded me and I nodded to myself.
"No, I know. I'll talk to her tomorrow about what she can tell me that would help."
"Alright. You're doing great, Jay. Keep going and keep her safe. She's a huge part of this now." Voight told me, saying his goodbyes. I agreed with him and hung up. I knew I couldn't screw this up, this was our only chance to catch one of the biggest drug dealers in Chicago.
I sighed, putting my real phone back in my safe, along with the bags of pills Charles had given me earlier- they would go in evidence- and got ready for bed.
Ava
I woke up in an unfamiliar bedroom. I turned around and saw Ryan. I sighed, remembering what had gone down last night. My sides still hurt, but a little less. It was much more bearable. I observed him in a way I hadn't seen him before, as a detective. It fit him much more than a gang member.
I could see him do the job. Run after criminals or suspects. Researching stuff on his computer, trying to find out who did what and how. Observing suspects from his car, hiding from them. Talking to CIs. Everything. I smiled, imagining how good of a person he seems to be and how good of a detective I bet he is.
"Hey," He greeted me, slowly opening his eyes and slightly stretching.
"Good morning," I responded, tearing my sight away from him for a few seconds so it would look like I was observing him.
