"Commissioner, there are rumors that the officer who arrested Raymundo Salazar is your son, Danny Reagan. It's also said he had a prior shootout with the suspect and is a key witness in the case. Can you confirm this?"
A rapid-fire question came from a Channel 14 reporter, making Frank Reagan, wearing his signature sunglasses, frown deeply.
"No." His reply was curt.
"The criminal gang involved is known for intimidating or even silencing witnesses. Are you concerned about this?" another reporter asked.
"No." The same concise response.
Frank Reagan refrained from lengthy speeches about the NYPD's resilience against threats. Having already lost a son in service to the city, it was impossible for him not to feel some concern. Yet, as the city's protector, he could not afford to show any vulnerability.
"When will the formal charges be filed?" Another question came from the crowd.
This query caught Commissioner Reagan off guard. Filing charges was a prosecutor's responsibility, unrelated to the NYPD.
"I'll take this one." Lyle Greenly, standing beside him, leaned forward slightly.
Frank raised his eyebrows but stepped aside, allowing the special prosecutor to take the podium.
"I am Lyle Greenly, special prosecutor for the drug cartel case."
For prosecutors, public exposure is a stepping stone toward political ambitions. Dealing with the media is second nature to them, and Greenly excelled in this arena. His polished demeanor and confident tone suggested years of practice.
"First, I'd like to commend the NYPD for their outstanding work in apprehending Raymundo Salazar. Regarding the charges, we are looking forward to Officer Danny Reagan's testimony before the grand jury this Wednesday afternoon, after which they will deliberate."
Jack exchanged a surprised glance with Irene. Had Greenly lost his mind? Frank Reagan's earlier terse "no" responses were wasted. Greenly had just publicly confirmed Danny's involvement in the case.
This was no different from when certain media outlets in Syria irresponsibly broadcast uncensored images of undercover agents. Rumors and speculation from the public were one thing. But by officially acknowledging Danny's role, Greenly had effectively painted a target on his back.
"That's all for today. Thank you." Frank Reagan's mustache seemed to twitch with fury as he abruptly ended the press conference, cutting Greenly off mid-sentence.
The special prosecutor's hypocrisy was glaring. Earlier, he had solemnly advised Danny to be cautious around Salazar, yet now he had recklessly exposed him. Clearly, Greenly's ambitions as a career politician overshadowed his professionalism.
In contrast, Irene Reagan, as an assistant district attorney, had left a far better impression on Jack. Her occasional clashes with Danny stemmed from her genuine commitment to justice, as seen during a previous case involving child exploitation.
As the group exited the press area, Frank adjusted his sunglasses, his gaze fixed forward. Without breaking stride, he directed an icy remark at Greenly, whose expression was tinged with discomfort from being interrupted.
"Your attention-seeking statement has completely exposed the witness's identity. That was highly unprofessional."
"I deeply apologize," Greenly said, pausing. Despite the words, his tone carried a hint of defiance, and his respect seemed to falter. "I understand your sensitivity to this matter, especially since Danny is your son."
Frank stopped abruptly, turning to glare at Greenly. "This has nothing to do with Danny being my son. I would be equally concerned for any of my officers in danger."
The shift in Frank's demeanor was palpable, his commanding presence suddenly oppressive. As commissioner overseeing tens of thousands of officers, he wielded significant authority—akin to a feudal lord of medieval Europe.
The weight of Frank's words caused Greenly to falter. He swallowed nervously, his posture softening as he tried to defend himself. "But that reporter already mentioned it."
"Yes, but I didn't confirm it. I have reason to believe the leak didn't come from us but from your side." Frank pointed a finger at Greenly before walking away without waiting for a response.
As she followed her father, Irene shot a disdainful glance at Greenly. Jack silently observed the exchange, noting the tension. Deep in thought, he returned to Danny's office, where he found him and his partner, Jackie, surrounded by stacks of paperwork.
"What's keeping you so busy?" Jack asked, his mood lifted by the case's progress. He was even considering a weekend trip to Los Angeles, where he could reconnect with his professor, Maureen.
"We're organizing evidence," Danny replied with a yawn, looking every bit the diligent officer. "Even with my testimony, we need to ensure all forensic reports, ballistics tests, and other documents are ready."
"Check this out. Remember Sylvia mentioned Salazar's top lieutenant, George Lupino?" Danny pulled up a file. "The guy has a long rap sheet, but guess what? Every witness against him has recanted."
"Wow, shocking," Jackie muttered sarcastically, stifling a yawn herself. She got up to pour coffee and waved them off. "You boys should hit the smoking lounge. Just don't set the precinct on fire."
"Jackie, I don't know how I'd survive without you," Danny quipped. He opened a desk drawer, rummaging around until he produced a wooden cigar box. He held it up proudly. "Stolen from the old man."
The two enjoyed a high-end Cuban cigar together. As night fell, Jack prepared to leave. "You're staying here tonight?"
Danny waved him off. "Yeah, I'll grab a pizza and crash in the lounge."
Before he could finish, his phone rang. "Danny Reagan speaking. Who's this?"
Jack paused at the door, watching as Danny's brow furrowed in confusion. "No, no need. I'll call her myself. Yes, I'm just wrapping up. I'll pick her up. Thanks."
Hanging up, Danny turned to Jack, who immediately asked, "What's going on?"
"The officers sent to pick up Linda said she wasn't home. Probably nothing. I'll try her cell."
Jack felt a chill run down his spine. Please, let this not turn into a mess now.
Danny dialed Linda's number, and the call connected—but instead of Linda's voice, a slick male voice greeted him.
"Well, hello, Detective."
"Who are you?" Danny's face darkened, though he clung to a sliver of hope.
"I'm your worst nightmare."
"Put Linda on the phone!" Danny growled, his voice low and strained.
"She can't come to the phone right now, not until you decide not to testify against Salazar at the grand jury."
Jack immediately called Jubal. "I need this number traced now. High priority."
He tapped Danny's shoulder and mouthed, "Stall him."
"I need to speak to my wife. I want proof she's okay." Danny's eyes reddened, his breathing growing heavier.
"Don't try anything funny, my friend. Your wife is quite lovely. If you don't comply, you'll only see her as a pretty corpse. Don't bother looking for her; we know your every move."
As the call ended, Danny clenched his fists in silent rage, unable to release his anguish. He couldn't even scream, too afraid of drawing attention to the ordeal.
"Go to your father's house and ensure your kids are safe. Then come with me. Don't let anyone notice something's wrong," Jack instructed, pulling Danny out of the smoking lounge.
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Reborn in America's Anti-Terror Unit (Chapter 542)
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Surgical Fruit in the American Comics Universe (Chapter 1289)
American Detective: From TV Rookie to Seasoned Cop (Chapter 1316)
American TV Writer (Chapter 1402)
I Am Hades, The Supreme GOD of the Underworld! (Chapter 570)
Reborn as Humanity's Emperor Across the Multiverse (Chapter 660)
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