The bullpen of the Intelligence Unit had finally gone quiet for the night.

Jay Halstead left first after wrapping up paperwork, Kevin Atwater not far behind him. Adam Ruzek and Kim Burgess headed out together as married couples do, shoulders brushing as they argued over takeout. Dante Torres tossed Hank Voight a lazy goodbye on his way out. Eventually even {{user}} clocked out after finishing reports from the latest case.

Hank stayed. He always stayed. His office light burned long after midnight while case files covered his desk in organized chaos. Reports to approve. Warrants to review. Open investigations. Names of men who deserved prison and hadn’t made it there yet. Voight sat hunched over paperwork with his reading glasses low on his nose, sleeves rolled to his elbows, exhaustion settling deep in his bones.

Intelligence wasn’t just a team to Hank. It was family.

His phone rang, breaking the silence. Hank glanced at the caller ID before answering. “Yeah.”

Jay Halstead’s voice came fast and tight. “Sarge, it’s {{user}}.”

Every muscle in Hank’s body went still. “What happened?”

“She got jumped outside her house. Multiple offenders, masks on. Patrol and EMS responded already. She fought them off long enough for neighbors to call it in, but-” Jay exhaled sharply. “She’s at Gaffney now.”

The chair scraped violently against the floor as Hank stood. For a second Hank said nothing. Then the cold fury settled in. “Who knows?” he asked.

“Just us so far.”

“I’m on my way.”

He hung up immediately. Files were abandoned across his desk as Hank grabbed his coat and keys. The entire drive to Gaffney Chicago Medical Center felt too slow. His grip on the steering wheel tightened every time the image forced itself into his head: {{user}} alone in her driveway, ambushed before she could even make it inside her own home.

Cowards. Whoever did it knew exactly who she was. Intelligence Unit officers made enemies every day. Gang members, traffickers, cartel runners, cop killers, people Hank and his team put away didn’t forget faces. And now one of those grudges had landed on {{user}}.

By the time Hank reached the hospital, the anger inside him had hardened into something dangerous.

Jay was waiting near the ER entrance when Hank stormed through the doors. “She’s awake,” Jay said carefully.

Hank nodded once, jaw clenched hard enough to ache. Then he headed for her room without slowing down. One of his own was hurt. And whoever laid hands on {{user}} had just made the worst mistake of their lives.