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"You're protecting her?" Peter snarls in disbelief. "After everything these bastards have done?"
I don't back down. "This isn't justice, Peter. It's murder. And I won't be a part of it."
The atmosphere in the room grows even more tense. My hand hovers near my holster, ready to draw if necessary, even knowing it’s the death of me and Lana.
"You son of a bitch," Peter spits. "You've been working with them all along, haven't you?"
I take a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady as I face Peter. "No. I work for the Chicago Police Department. I know you're angry. I know you want justice for your father. But this isn't the way."
Peter's eyes narrow, his hand reaching for his gun. "Don't pretend you understand, Lutz. You have no idea what I've been through."
"You're right, I don't," I admit, holding my hands up in a placating gesture. "But I do know that there are some things you can't come back from. Hurting Lana, that's one thing. But maiming her? Killing her? That's something else entirely."
I take a cautious step forward, my eyes locked on Peter's. "You're not that kind of man, Peter. You couldn't live with yourself if you killed her in cold blood."
A harsh laugh escapes Peter's lips. "You clearly don't know me at all, Henry. I thought we were partners. I thought you'd have my back when it really mattered." The betrayal in his eyes is palpable.
"I am your partner. That's why I'm trying to stop you from making a mistake you can't take back. I’m not protecting her. I’m protecting you. Your father wouldn’t want this."
“You don’t know shit about what my father would want.”
“I do, Peter. He was a good cop. I admired him. Emulated him. Don’t throw your life away for revenge. We keep working the case and get them the way your father would want. With the law on our side.”
Peter shakes his head. "You're just like my last partner, too chicken to do what needs to be done when the law can't handle it. I don't mind breaking the law to get revenge. I've already done it before."
He holds his gun toward me but then turns it on an unconscious Lana. My heart stops.
“You like your Mafia whore so much, watch me end her life.”
“No.” I pull my gun, knowing all is hopeless.
The room erupts into chaos. It takes me a moment to realize we’re not alone. A flood of armed officers pours in, their weapons raised.
"Police! Drop your weapons!”
At first, I wonder if my sergeant realized his error, but then I recognize one of the men as an officer involved in the Gabriel and Piper Collins domestic violence call. These are Elio’s men. They’re as dirty as Peter, and I’ve never been so happy to see corrupt cops.
Johnson and Rogers freeze, their eyes wide with shock. They look to Peter, uncertain what to do.
"I said drop your weapons! Now!" one of the officers bellows.
Slowly, they lower their guns and raise their hands. Two officers move in quickly to disarm and cuff them.
Peter stands there, a gun still in hand, his face a mask of disbelief and rage. His eyes dart around the room, looking for an escape, but he's completely surrounded.
"It's over, Peter," I say softly. "Put down the gun."
For a moment, I think he might try to fight his way out. But as he takes in the number of guns trained on him, the fight drains from his body. His shoulders slump, and the gun clatters to the floor.
"On your knees! Hands behind your head!" an officer orders.
Peter complies, sinking to his knees as an officer moves in to cuff him.
“You too.” An officer points his gun at me.
“But I’m the one who called.”
“Down!”
