Grace & the Windy City (Chicago P.D)

Chapter 15- Across State Lines

"Chicago P.D! Grace, you in here? Grace!" Adam yelled out.

"Ray Walton, this is Chicago P.D. Come out now!" Voight called out.

"Chicago P.D! Grace?" Jay went from room to room with Erin, with no sign of Grace or Walton. "Call out!"

Antonio and Adam went to search the dark basement and as the flashlight on their weapons revealed each corner around them, he prayed for Grace to appear in the shadows, unharmed. Since there was no sign of anyone in the home, the team stealthily moved on to the next cottage. Adam found it hard to remain hopeful. There were a few lights on inside, but no sign of anyone walking about besides the prints in the snow, which looked to be about a men's size 11. Jay and Erin searched the outside grounds while Adam, Antonio and Voight went inside. The property was filled with tools and old junk, and no Grace.

In a windowless storage room that seemed more like a bunker, Voight discovered a damning piece of evidence. Antonio and Adam followed in behind him, taking it out of his hand.

"Adam—" Antonio tried to talk him down.

"He doesn't get out of this alive, you hear me?" Adam demanded, his voice cracking with each word. He gave the polaroid back and turned to the stairs. This man had the serial killer's toolkit: creepy old cabin with a windowless room, tons of junk, and a polaroid camera.

All of a sudden, a loud SLAM came from outside. The team emerged from the cottage and through the thick snowfall, saw headlights from a truck driving away into the night and a muffled, young scream.

Adam ran after the truck, "Grace!" he cried out, his breath visible in the freezing night air. They were too far away.

"That's Walton! Run the plates and report to dispatch." Voight instructed Antonio, who was radioing to Racine P.D. Erin and Jay hopped into their car and sped away after him.

The two of them followed Walton's vehicle down the twisty back roads all the way to the highway. Their sirens polluted the otherwise silent winter night with noise and the lights cut through the snow that continued to fall. Just as Erin and Jay were about to get ahead of the truck, their car skidded on a patch of ice.

"Erin watch out!" Jay cried from the passenger seat.

She did her best to stay on the road, but it was no use. They swerved and crashed into a tree just off the highway.

"Are you ok?" she asked Jay.

He nodded, while taking out his phone and radioing Walton's last known location along with the plate number. He was fine, but their car wasn't.

"If seen by patrol, lock down the area until the Chicago P.D Intelligence unit arrives. Walton has a potential hostage in the vehicle. Do not engage. I repeat do not engage with the offender," he said out of breath.

    The two of them waited for area police to drop a squad car off for them, which took about 25 minutes. As soon as they hopped inside, they got a message over the radio that Walton's truck had crossed over into Illinois by Fox River Road. The rest of Intelligence was already en route.

    By the time they reached the Fox Lake area, area police had set up on the opposite side of the lake that Walton was supposedly driving down on. Voight and the team arrived on the scene and were told they were expecting his truck within view in a matter of minutes.

    "Jay, go set up by the shoreline. When he comes down that road, if he gets out I want you taking the shot."

    "Got it, Serg."

    "The rest of us will close in on him by the road. He could have Grace in the passenger seat, so we act fast and sharp. Let's go."

    Jay got his sniper rifle ready to go and followed Walton's truck that began driving along the lake through the viewfinder. The rest of the team was hidden behind the trees, ready to pop out in hopes Walton would surrender. The truck slowed down and came to an abrupt stop. Area police alerted everyone over the radios that the road he came in on was blocked— at least there was that.

    "C'mon, there's only one way out of this, you son of a bitch." Adam said under this breath.

    Jay watched the truck as a figure— Grace— climbed out in a panic through the passenger door window. Somehow she did so with her hands bound by rope and tape. Her winter parka was missing, and she was dressed in just her jeans, now ripped and sweater that was stained with dirt and smeared with blood. Not longer than a few seconds later did Walton himself spill out of the truck and started to limp in an effort to chase after Grace.

It all happened so fast. Walton caught up and cornered Grace way out onto the frozen lake. She looked weak and like she'd been left to die. It was now past 7 pm hovering around 25 degrees fahrenheit, and the snow had yet to subside. The only light source was from the moon up above.

    "Jay, do you have a shot?" Voight called over the radio.

    "Negative."

    Voight, Antonio, Adam and Erin were all steps away from Walton, who charged onto the ice. He pulled the Glock-19 on Grace as she ran faster and faster away from him and farther from the shoreline.

"Ray Walton— Chicago P.D, put the gun down!" Antonio shouted.

Adam was ahead of the team and maneuvered down by the rocky shore, set on taking Walton down himself. Voight yelled at Walton to put his hands up while once again demanding over radio if Jay had a shot on him.

"Ray Walton, this is Chicago P.D. Put the gun down NOW or we will shoot!" Voight's voice boomed.

"Do it now. There's no way out." Erin said.

Walton steadied his gun on Grace and was about to shoot. From anywhere on the lake, you could hear the 16 year old pleading for her life. Grace fell to the hard icy lake, her bound hands numb from the cold and shut her eyes.

"I'm done anyways," he kept repeating, then brought the gun to his head and— bang!

Bang! Bang!

...CRACK!