Home: Authors: John M. Wills
Freelance Writer and Author of Chicago Warriors

Status: Member since November 4, 2008
Location: United States of America
Articles: 69 Active Articles, resulting in 5889 views
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TRCB - Member Profile - John M. Wills

John Wills spent 2 years in the U.S. Army before serving 12 years with the Chicago Police Department (CPD). He left the CPD to become an FBI Special Agent, working organized crime, violent crime, and drugs. John served as the Principal Firearms Instructor, Training Coordinator, and sniper team leader in the Detroit Division for 10 years. Before retiring from the FBI, he spent 7 years teaching at the FBI Academy at Quantico, Virginia. He has taught Street Survival domestically and internationally, as well as supervised new agent training at the Academy. John is presently a field manager in the Training Division with Advanced Interactive Systems. He also owns his own business -- LivSafe, teaching personal safety classes.  John Wills is author of Chicago Warriors Midnight Battles in the Windy City ISBN: 1590958421 published by TotalRecallPress.com

I was looking forward to this day, the one where I would finally give my statement regarding the night of Joe's death. The last week had been one of the worst in my life. The death of my friend and partner was just now becoming reality for me-he was gone-forever.
I plopped down on the sofa to get a few hours sleep. I didn't want to disturb Beth; it was her morning to sleep in. She enjoyed Saturdays, taking her time waking up and reading the Sun-Times over coffee.
Once he gets inside their soul, it's difficult for any mortal to resist his power. He's relentless; he will smother his target with temptation until he wears them down. Once they accept or relent, Satan has gained another disciple.
The house was quiet which I had become accustomed to before the separation, but it was a different quiet now, one that was not soothing or welcome. Beth had taken many of her things and was staying at her parents' home in Beverly.
We rolled out of the lot heading westbound on 63rd Street. I took the wheel for the first four hours; Marilyn had the paperwork. "How ‘bout a coffee?" I asked. I was about to say that's how Joe and I always started our tour, but caught myself before the words came out.
We rolled through the rest of the shift without much excitement. We spotted a couple of curfew violators trying to make it home through the alleys before any cops spotted them. We wrote them up and brought them home, but their parents seemed already used to the drill and didn't seem to be very disturbed about their sons being brought home by the cops, other than having to get out of bed to answer the door. We'd likely be seeing more of their boys in the months and years ahead.
Marilyn was wearing a dark pair of capri pants, and a form fitting sleeveless black top with a scoop neckline. The shirt in particular showed off her female muscularity quite well. The definition in her shoulders and arms was evidence of her hard work in the gym.
Mac hadn't gotten any better, but he hadn't gotten any worse either. I left to go home for a few hours sleep so that I could make it through the shift tonight.
We started cruising our beat, looking for everything and anything. "Pete, do you mind me asking, what's the beef between you and Rosato? In the short time that I've been your partner he's like on you all the time.
Feeling refreshed after a quick run, shower and sandwich, I headed to the hospital to check on Mac. I automatically made my way to ICU where Mac was at when I last saw him, but the nurse on duty advised me that Mac had been moved to a semi-private room.
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