Usual Suspects

There are rules in this city.
Unwritten ones. The kind carved into concrete with blood and silence.

You don’t cross the outfit unless you’ve made peace with dying in your own trunk.
You don’t turn on the badge unless you’ve got another army behind you.
And above all, you never—never—mess with the people sitting at the top of the country’s food chain.

Because when power decides you're a threat, it doesn't argue.
It buries you.

My name is Detective Sophia Blake. First grade. Chicago PD.

I’ve walked beat on the South Side, dug bodies out of dumpsters, and stared into the cold, rotted eyes of evil more times than I care to count. But nothing—nothing—prepared me for what came that night at the Gala.

The wife of the Vice President murdered on live TV.
A massacre in a room crawling with federal agents.
And a city that suddenly turned into a war zone.

Everyone said it was foreign terrorists. Sleeper cells. Extremists from faraway hellholes.

They were wrong.

It wasn’t foreign.
It was domestic. It was personal.
And it came from the highest office in the land.

They tried to silence me.
Framed me. Hunted me. Burned everyone I cared about.

But they forgot one thing.

This is still my city.
And I don't run from the fire.

I walk through it.

Welcome to Chicago.