Original subtitles

- This is Officer Adam Ruzek

requesting immediate backup.

- You were out there without the permission

of a supervisor.

You've been stripped of your police powers

until the chief determines your future.

- There's a young girl, and she's my daughter.

- If you have any hope of keeping us together,

you'd better get a paternity test.

- I don't know what your relationship status is,

and I don't care, but I need to know

someone's got Lindsay's back 24 hours a day.

- What is that for?

- Because I wanted to kiss you.

- I heard Roman took the week.

Is he going to Cabo or what?

- Not quite.

- Ah, right. He flew to Vegas.

He's got that hook-up at Caesars.

- Actually, he's dealing with a personal medical issue.

- STD?

Yeah, wouldn't be the first time that dog's picked up fleas.

- For your information, he was donating bone marrow

to a little kid, and sadly that kid might not make it.

- Wow. Sounds depressing.

- I try and see the other side of it.

What Roman is doing is inspiring.

- I donated blood once. - Okay.

- But I forgot to eat that cookie that they give you.

So I rolled to Jimbo's, nothing in the tank.

A couple of pops later, I wake up in bed

with my mom's best friend.

Janice.

- 2113. - Go for 2113, squad.

- Need you to roll on a 10-37 at Union Park.

Caller states there's a suspicious person

in a black SUV.

- Ten four, dispatch. We are three blocks out.

What are you doing out here so late?

- Just hanging, talking.

- Oh, my favorite pastime.

Talking with girls in cars at midnight.

- He's obviously some perv spying on people,

so I called it in.

- Okay, we'll take it from here.

Go home.

Price, you come with me.

- All right, let's do this.

He probably had one too many drinks

and passed out before he made it home.

- Sir?

Please exit the vehicle.

- Hey! Let's go.

- No, he's not passed out.

This guy's dead.

- Damn, you're right.

- Dispatch, roll an ambulance

to the northwest corner of Union Park.

- Copy that. - Easy, buddy.

- Son of a bitch!

- Northwest corner of Union Park.

[gunshot]

- Are you out of your mind?

- I just thought that-- - The glass.

Obviously bulletproof.

Dispatch, we've got a situation.

[indistinct chatter]

- The entire SUV is coated with a bullet resistant seal.

Even the chassis is bombproof.

- The kind of vehicle dignitaries

or government agents use.

- Three, two... - Hey, you guys might want

to step back. - One!

Ugh. Ripe.

White male, 50-ish.

No signs of foul play.

Searching for I.D.

No wallet.

He's got a stainless steel 1911.

- Hey, guys. The license plate came back.

This SUV's registered to a company.

Peregrine Security. Owned by one Victor Cullen.

Mouse is sending you his DMV photo now.

[phone chimes]

- Recognize this guy?

- That's him.

Okay, get a warrant for Cullen's address.

Have the others meet us there.

- [grunts] [thud]

[alarm beeping]

[alarm blaring]

[alarm stops]

- Check this out.

- Huh.

- Whoa.

- Huh.

- This guy was somebody important.

I'm looking at a million dollars here.

[loud clang]

- It's the back-up generators.

[power up whine]

- [gasps]

.

[van beeping] - Whoa, that's good.

- Well, what've you got for me?

[chuckles]

Wow.

You arrest the leader of a small African republic?

- Start cataloging 'em, get 'em to forensics ASAP.

- Roger that.

Hey, Al. Uh, that DNA test

that you wanted on Michelle.

The results are in.

I guess congrats either way.

- Yeah, you got it.

Hey, that was Mouse asking if anyone was available

to help inventory all the guns that were recovered last night.

I volunteered you. - No, come on, Sarge.

I just--I want to take a shower and sleep for, like, two days.

- Take a bird bath in the ladies room.

Overtime is like gold around here.

- Hey, look, can I ask you something?

Look, Adam is trying so hard to be stoic

about getting stripped, but it's not him, you know?

He wears everything on his sleeve,

which is maybe why I just love him.

You know what? Forget it.

- Burgess, we're like sisters.

We can talk about our problems.

For example, come here.

- Okay.

- I'm with Mouch last night, and we're doing our thing.

You know, I got Black Sabbath going on the stereo,

and he's rounding the bases, heading towards home.

All of a sudden-- - Oh, you know what, Sarge?

I don't think that I'm old enough to hear this story.

How about just a little advice?

- Go ahead, shoot. - Okay.

This Crowley, she seems to really have it in for Adam.

And he's great police.

I think I should tell her as much.

- Oh.

Go and give one of the highest ranking females

in the department a piece of your mind?

Do not do that.

- Black Sabbath? - Works every time.

Even when it doesn't.

- Uh, just so you know, the other night on the couch--

- Oh, yeah. It was a great choice.

- Mm. - Supple yet firm.

- It was a one-time deal. - One time, got it.

- Mm-hmm. - Got it, one-time deal.

- I mean it. Gotta be professional.

- Hey, boss, hey. - Yeah.

Uh, any word about my case?

'Cause I'm kinda climbing up the walls here.

- I made a few calls trying to pull in a favor with the Chief.

In the meantime, give Mouse a hand

with those guns we seized.

All right, what do we got?

- Victor Cullen.

Five years ago, he founded Peregrine.

It's a corporate security firm. - Mm-hmm.

- Before that, his work history is blank for several decades.

- The M.E. is performing the autopsy as we speak,

and from his preliminary findings,

Cullen was dead for at least a week.

- Yeah, patrol working the Union Park beat says

Cullen's SUV wasn't there

when they made their sweep the night before,

so someone drove his body there and left it.

- Neighbors say he was extremely private.

No family in the area.

He had a long-time girlfriend named Jainie Saunders.

- What? Cullen's been dead a week

and his girlfriend doesn't report it?

She's suspect number one.

Find her and bring her in.

- Uh, Hank, we don't have to.

Jainie Saunders is downstairs with her lawyer.

- After this morning's news segment,

my client wanted to voluntarily come in.

She's an emotional wreck,

and she's only willing to admit

to improper disposal of human remains.

- All right, well, until we get the autopsy results in,

we can't rule out foul play.

- I did not kill Victor. He had arrhythmia.

I begged him to get treatment, but he refused.

He just kept popping aspirin.

- So what happened?

- We were at home.

One minute having dinner, and the next,

he collapsed. A heart attack.

- So instead of calling 911, you did what exactly?

- I put him in the garage.

Then last night, I drove him to the park.

- Jainie, you have to imagine how this looks on our end.

Victor's been dead a week,

yet he turned up in the park last night.

We searched his home and we found an arsenal

and a million dollars cash in the basement.

- You think I don't know how this looks?

I loved Victor.

I loved him.

I just did what he told me to do.

- Which was what?

- Jainie, you got to help yourself out here.

- Victor said that if he ever died,

I should leave his body in a public place,

and the agency would find him.

- Agency?

- Victor...he was CIA.

- Hey. - Hey, Sean, what's that for?

- I'm gonna be your driver today.

- The doctor said I wasn't allowed outside.

- I think it'll be okay.

- It'll be fine.

- Where are we going?

- Well, that's a surprise. Ready?

- There you go. - All right.

Here we go.

- Here's his bag. - All right.

I'll have him back in a little bit.

- Okay.

- Oh, I almost forgot.

We're officially partners.

- Really? - Yep.

So you better have my back out there, okay?

- Okay.

- Olinsky. - Bishop.

- Hey, 1999. Hezbollah and Latin Kings in bed together.

Seems like a lifetime ago.

- I take it this isn't a stroll down memory lane.

- Victor Cullen. Found his body last night.

Supposedly one of yours.

- Never heard of him.

Then again, you never know who's who.

- I'd appreciate it if you could find out for me.

- I'll reach out to the powers that be.

- Thanks.

- Okay.

- Got it. - Good?

- Yeah.

Hey, babe, I'm sorry you got stuck down here

doing grunt work.

- So much better than answering the phones.

Let me tell you.

Besides, I'm kind of enjoying the company.

- [chuckles] Me too.

- Good? - Yeah.

- All right.

- Hey, listen... About the wedding...

You know, like picking a date and all that.

Like, until the whole thing with Deputy Crowley blows over,

let's just not worry about it, okay?

- Hey, Kim, you know,

whether I'm a cop or not,

our relationship's not going to change.

You know that?

'Cause you're like the best thing I got going on right now.

- Okay.

- What's happening, gents?

- I don't know, Mouse. You called us.

- Oh, yeah, ballistics started coming in on Cullen's guns.

And three of them match three unsolved murders

that happened in the last year.

I have no idea how Cullen is connected,

but there's a strange pattern.

Eddie Diaz. The gangbanger who beat

a manslaughter charge a few years back.

His stray bullet killed a little girl.

His lawyer got him off on a technicality.

He was executed point-blank in his garage.

Second, Mr. Josh Henderson.

He's a UIC dropout turned computer hacker.

He preyed on a string of elderly victims.

Drained their bank accounts.

Got probation, but he was ambushed at a stoplight

less than six months ago.

And the third, one Terrence Jenkins.

- Arrested for multiple sexual assaults of underage girls.

None of them would testify at trial, so he walked.

- He did.

Until they found his body shot to death

last month in a field near Hegewisch.

- Hmm.

- If Cullen really is CIA,

then maybe this is some secret program.

- Yo, Sarge. - Hmm?

- I just got off the phone with the medical examiner.

Victor Cullen's body was just stolen from Chicago Med.

.

- Sir, welcome to the 21st.

Are you ready for duty, sir?

- Sure am.

- Your hat, sir.

This way.

- Looking good, Captain. - Your office, sir.

- And here we go. - Cool.

- A little something for you, sir.

- What do you think, Andrew? - Awesome.

- Okay. Now, we have a very busy day, sir.

We're doing cell checks, interviewing offenders,

taking a trip to the gun range.

- Really? The range? - If we have time, sure thing.

- But first, sir, I am going to need your signature

on this asset forfeiture form. - What's that?

- It means we're taking a brand-new Porsche

from a drug dealer.

- Wow. Can't wait to be a cop when I grow up.

- Sir, what would you like in your coffee?

Cream and sugar? - You got hot chocolate?

- One hot chocolate coming up.

- Excellent choice, sir.

- They forced their way in, attacked me.

It happened so fast.

- They move like pros. - Yeah.

You got anything on the parking lot cams?

- One of them caught a black SUV speeding from the lot.

No plates.

I wonder if Victor Cullen was as interesting alive as he is dead.

- His girlfriend said the CIA would want his body, right?

Who else would take it?

- Look, secret operation or not,

you can't commit murder and steal bodies with impunity.

[phone vibrating] Yeah?

- Hank, we got a hold of DMV records.

In addition to the SUV that we found Cullen in,

he's registered three other identical vehicles,

all purchased through his company.

All four of Cullen's SUVs were outfitted as bulletproof

by a car-armoring company on Pulaski.

- So we got three armed offenders

driving around the city in custom tanks?

- The thing is, Cullen never picked up any of the SUVs.

One of his employees did, a guy named Ryan Bergstrom.

We gonna send you his LKA now.

- Just got the alert on this guy.

Ryan Bergstrom.

His record's clean until he ripped off a body.

- All right.

This sure looks like one of Cullen's SUVs.

Okay, you take the back. - All right.

- Go.

[saw buzzing]

Chicago P.D.!

Freeze!

Freeze!

- Gun!

- Go!

- [grunting]

- Don't move!

- I'm a special agent with the CIA.

I got clearances.

- It says here you took the CPD test three times.

Each time, you were rejected.

Color blind, huh?

- Yet somehow you were recruited into the CIA.

- You got my letter there, right?

- This thing?

A letter of immunity from the Central Intelligence Agency,

signed by Victor Cullen. That's your proof?

- Yeah, that's all the proof you need.

- You won't tell us anything about your so-called operation,

at least tell me this.

Why dismember Cullen's body?

- I was following orders. - Okay.

- Whose?

- [exhales sharply]

- I'm just a simple city cop.

I'm sure this is a real inconvenience

for a government agent like you.

I got bosses I got to answer to.

I gotta give them something.

So do me a favor, okay?

Just shed some light.

That's all I'm asking.

- I'm part of an operation called Streetcleaner.

We neutralize targets posing as threats to national security.

Targets that simple city cops couldn't get off the street.

- Why dismember Cullen?

- I was looking for something.

When an agent dies, their chip has to be removed.

- From his body?

- Those were my instructions, yes.

- The weapons we found at Cullen's house?

We can tie him to three unsolved murders.

You're saying those murders are sanctioned?

- I'm not saying anything, actually.

So can I go now? [knocking]

- Hank, you got a minute?

- Hey. That name you provided,

Victor Cullen, I had it checked out.

Looks like you've got a false alarm.

- What exactly does that mean?

- Cullen was with the Agency, just for a minute,

but never a field agent.

He was an intelligence analyst right out of college,

stationed down in Panama.

- Working the Iran-Contra scandal?

- Around that time, but he didn't last long.

Cullen suffered a meltdown.

Turned out he'd been lying on his psych reports.

So they shipped him home, cut him loose.

- Ever since, he's been playing secret agent.

.

- I had my own office and everything.

Then they gave me this CPD leather, like a real Captain.

- I'm so proud of you, honey.

- But we didn't make it to the gun range, Sean.

Can we go tomorrow?

- Definitely tomorrow.

- I'm gonna go grab some coffee.

Do you want some? - Uh, sure.

- Okay.

- My dad was supposed to come here today.

I'm glad you're here instead.

- Hey, I'm sure he means well.

- I don't know. He always makes my mom cry.

I think she likes you better.

- Finally got access to Cullen's financial records.

His security firm was well-funded,

but not by the government.

His mother.

She owned a huge soybean farm downstate.

Passed away five years ago.

When it was sold off,

Cullen inherited over 30 million.

His bank statements indicate Cullen was withdrawing

large amounts of cash the last few years.

It seems he was paying Bergstrom and his other operatives

15k a week.

- Damn. I wish he was still hiring.

- Guys, this is Dr. Charles.

Dr. Charles, welcome to Intelligence.

- So...this is it.

The infamous black site

I've been reading about all these years.

- Not everything you read is true.

- Uh, please.

I asked Dr. Charles if he could dig up

Victor Cullen's medical history for us,

maybe shed a little light.

- So, Cullen indeed had a physical condition.

Heart ailment dating way back.

But it's his psych file that's fascinating.

He suffered from something called delusional disorder.

People suffering from delusional disorder

continue to function and present as perfectly normal.

Hence, Cullen's remarkable ability to recruit people

into his Soldier of Fortune universe.

To him it was all absolutely real,

which is why it felt real to others.

- Doc, we got somebody else who needs to hear this.

- After, uh, Cullen stopped taking his meds,

he started to create his own assignments.

Trying to relive his glory days in the CIA,

except for none of it was real.

I understand how difficult

it must be for you to hear this.

- The things I've done...

I'm not a criminal, all right?

Those scumbags who got off, they're the criminals.

- Yeah. Well, here's your reality check.

Whether they were bad guys or not,

you still committed multiple pre-meditated murders.

- Hey, you contact the others, help bring them in,

we'll talk to the state's attorney,

see what we can do.

- Look, even if I could,

Cullen gave strict orders.

If something was to happen to him,

we were to only take instructions

from a CIA handler in D.C.

A guy named Carl Jacobs.

- Did any of you ever meet this Jacobs?

- No. No, but he promised we would

once the operation was completed.

- Sorry, but given the facts, it's highly likely

that this Mr. Jacobs was also a figment

of Mr. Cullen's imagination.

- Special Agent Jacobs? - Yeah.

- We'll hear you over the phone and your I.D.

- Oh, good.

- Yeah, I copied the CIA's watermark.

It looks... looks like the real thing.

- Yeah. - So...

what did the DNA results say?

- I haven't opened it yet. - I get it.

Savoring the moment? - Thanks, thank you.

- Hey. You all set?

All right, listen up.

Bergstrom's reached out to the other two operatives.

Why don't you tell them?

- Yeah. I left a coded message on Craigslist.

"Missed Connection" board.

It's how Cullen would reach out to us.

Every day, we'd log on and read it.

And if there was mention of the 39th floor,

we knew to meet at Wabash Tower.

He would lease the 39th floor.

It's where we'd meet and plan our operations.

Me, John, and Clay.

We never shared our full names.

- Wabash Tower. There's a lot of civilians, in and out.

I assume your pals show up packing?

- We'll set up a perimeter and grab them before they enter.

- That could turn into a shoot-out on Wacker Drive.

- No.

We let our CIA handler get their guard down.

He'll lure 'em out.

We take 'em down without any incident.

- Once they hear the sound of my voice,

they'll follow the piper.

- Who's this?

- Jacobs.

- When he heard what happened to Cullen,

he flew out from D.C.

- Where's John? - And where have you been?

- He's been in a holding cell.

You report to me now.

- Wait, the cops are involved?

- For a minute, but I handled them.

- Credentials.

- Satisfied?

- Only one of 'em showed up.

- Well, that's better than none.

- We have a target. Get ready.

- We're going to need to find John and bring him in as well.

Where is he?

- I don't know.

He said he was going to see the mission through.

- Well, there is no more mission 'cause Cullen is dead.

So I'm gonna take you to the field office,

get you some clearance.

- Listen, Jacobs can fix all of this.

- And I'm going to need you to release that sidearm.

- Until I'm all clear, I'll hold on to it.

- All right, I can respect that.

Let's go.

Come on.

- They're on their way. Let's move.

- Excuse me, sir.

Sir, police business.

Can you use another elevator, please?

- Police business. Can you clear the area, please?

Thank you.

- All right, as soon as it opens, we take him.

- Cullen talked a lot about you.

Said you worked a covert op in Rhodesia.

- Yeah, East Africa.

Talk about a party.

- Yeah, I must have heard that story ten times.

How the two of you survived on beef stew MREs for six months.

- Mm-hmm.

The reason I can never eat another steak in my life.

- Yeah, what was the name of the operation?

- Operations are like women.

You can never remember all their names.

- You remember the name? - [chuckles]

Yeah, of course. It was--

- Let Jacobs say it.

You traitor.

[gunshot] - [grunts]

- Shots fired. - Back up, back up.

Everybody get back.

[both grunting]

[gunfire] [glass shattering]

[both grunting]

[gunshot]

[both grunting]

[gunshots]

[commotion]

- Third floor. Move!

Alvin!

Alvin, you all right?

- 10-1, officer shot, roll an ambulance to Wabash Tower.

.

- Take cover.

[gunfire]

This way!

[gunfire]

Drop your weapon!

[gunfire]

[siren blaring]

- I'm--I'm so sorry. I just got to talk to her.

Hey, Emma.

- Trudy.

- You doing that caveman thing? - Paleo diet.

- Oh. I wish I had that discipline.

- All it takes is owning the decisions you make.

- Yeah.

I remember when we were in the academy

and they did that locker search

and you asked me to hide your Percodan in my locker.

I got put on probationary status for that.

And you, what, you got, like,

a marksmanship medal the next week?

Oh, good, ziti.

- Those pills, you know they were for my back pain.

- Right. And all the wine I drink

is for my front desk syndrome.

- Something you need, Trudy?

- I just need two minutes of your time.

- Hey.

That was a good shoot.

You had no choice.

- Yeah. Any word from Med?

- Yeah. Bergstrom is in critical condition,

but he'll live.

More importantly, Al is gonna be okay.

Okay, he got a couple of cracked ribs,

no internal damage.

- Isn't this like number seven or eight out of Al's nine lives?

We should send him something, right?

- I mean, at least a bottle of Bordeaux and a party cup.

- All right, we got an ID on this dead operative?

- Yep. Clay Carlson.

Pulled his prints, he's got no priors.

Did eight years in the Marines.

Got discharged two years ago, spotty work history ever since.

- Disenfranchised ex-military.

Needed a job.

He's the perfect guy for Cullen to recruit.

- You hear from Al? - Yeah, he's gonna be fine.

What do you got?

- About halfway through cataloging Cullen's arsenal,

we got a hit on this thing.

An M24 Army sniper rifle.

The only one so far that came back stolen.

- Came off an Army Reserve base out in Arlington Heights.

The suspected thief is a reservist

by the name of John Lee Radigan.

He was an Army Ranger, joined the reserves two years ago

when he got back from Afghanistan.

Went AWOL from reservist training six months back.

- Ladies and gentlemen, our third operative:

a trained killer.

- The colonel on the base said it was an internal matter,

but he did give us Radigan's LKA:

an apartment in Oak Park.

- Send us the address.

Hold on, Atwater.

I want you to go to the Streets and Sanitation truck lot.

You call me as soon as you get there.

Just do it.

All right, this guy is heavily armed,

so watch your backs.

We got eyes on Radigan.

- Question is, has he got eyes on us?

- We're a minute out with squad. Should we move in?

- Negative. He's in a bulletproof,

bombproof vehicle.

He's probably sitting in the safest place in the city.

Just be ready to pursue.

[car engine starting]

- What the hell is he doing?

[tires screeching]

- Squad, 2051 in pursuit of Radigan's vehicle.

[tires screeching]

Erin, he's taking a left on Damen.

- Got it.

[car horn blares]

[siren blaring]

- Voight, he's coming back to you.

[sirens blaring]

- Shoot out the tires!

[gunfire]

Let's go!

Atwater, you in position?

- Yes, sir.

[horn blaring]

- Take it, now!

- Copy that.

[sirens blaring]

CPD! Hey, hey, hey, hey, don't move.

.

- I got it.

State's attorney is gonna have to figure out your charges.

I mean, if you're lucky, he'll, uh,

he'll drop the murder charge down to manslaughter

since you're, you know,

following the orders of a guy who's mentally unstable.

- You interfered with an operation

sanctioned by the CIA.

- If you're CIA...

How come nobody's come here to get you out?

- Oh, don't worry.

They will.

And when they do...

I'll have your badge.

- You know...

I can't tell you how many times I looked into that cage

at, you know, murderers, rapists, pedophiles,

sitting, I mean, right where you're sitting.

And you'd think--you'd think

that after all these years that I'd be--

I'd be an expert in psychology,

but I tell you the truth...

I mean, I--

I-I don't think I'll ever understand what makes them tick.

You, I think I get.

You're not a bad guy.

You're just...

Looking for something to believe in.

Okay.

- Right up the middle.

Keep driving those uppercuts right through the middle.

Use your hips, use your legs.

Keep throwing! All the way through.

Keep throwing. - Okay, okay.

Hey. - Good job.

- Thanks.

Hey, Antonio told me what happened.

- Oh, watch the ribs, kiddo. - Oh, sorry.

I was really worried about you.

- Well, I'm gonna-- I'm gonna take you to dinner.

- Okay. Okay, I'll go get cleaned up.

- Okay.

- We've got him on a morphine drip,

so he won't feel any pain.

I'm afraid he won't make it through the night.

I'll give you two some time.

- [sobs]

I just want to thank you.

- For what?

- For making him happy

these last few days.

- You want to see me, boss? - Yeah, come on in.

I think you might need those.

- I'm reinstated?

- Full duty. - [exhales deeply]

- Just got off the phone with Deputy Crowley.

She's decided to drop the investigation on your case.

- [chuckles]

I don't know what favors you had to pull

to make this happen, boss, but thank you, thank you.

Serving in this unit has been nothing short of an honor.

- Adam... - I'm gonna be the first one in,

last one to leave.

You need anything at all, I'm your guy.

- Adam. - Yeah?

- She's the one you should be thanking.

- How'd you make this happen, Sarge?

- Crowley and I go way back.

She's always been a ball-breaker...

Which, of course, is why I like her.

- I appreciate it.

[chuckles]

- He's worth it, Trudy.

Trust me.

- Yeah, I know.

- Hi. So, Jay, I'm not usually the match-making type guy,

but my wife wants to set you up with somebody.

- Whoa, Herrmann, what's wrong with me?

- Slow down. Who--who is it?

- She's a great gal. She's cute, you know?

And she's in my wife's bridge club.

- [chuckles] Okay, I take it back.

Jay, you can have her. [laughing]

- Shut up. - Thanks.

- Yeah, you're out? All right. Hey.

- Hey.

- I thought--I thought you were gonna call it an early night.

- Here you go. - Thanks, Herrmann.

- Yep.

- I just figured I would come by.

Maybe you'd be here.

- What we were talking about earlier,

the whole, uh, one-time thing,

so is that like one time a week, one time a day?

- You're funny.

- All I'm saying is why-- why are we dancing around?

Voight doesn't have a problem with it.

Everybody knows,

so why are we still trying to hide it?

- That's a good point.

Do you want to hold my hand in public now?

Or that. [chuckles]

We should get out of here. - Mm-hmm.

- [chuckles]