"He's a prosecutor," Frank said, his gaze carrying a significant meaning.
"Are you talking about Lyle Greenie? You suspect he's colluding with the Elmar Gang?" Hearing this, Irene, who had been completely confused by the earlier conversation, immediately understood who the traitor in question was.
"I'm going to smash his teeth one by one, rip out all his fingernails, and make him tell me where Linda is!" Danny sprang to his feet, only to be harshly reprimanded by Frank's low, angry shout, forcing him to sit back down.
"If you can't think clearly, go dunk your head in the toilet until you sober up—just like you always enjoy doing to others!"
After berating Danny, Frank continued, "He's a prosecutor. Without solid evidence, we can't touch him. The court session is scheduled for the day after tomorrow afternoon—we have 36 hours. Until the last moment, we can't make a move."
"Maybe I can help. When Raimondo Salazar was arrested, he had his phone on him. TARU (Technical Assistance Response Unit) from the NYPD can extract all the prepaid numbers that called him," Irene offered. "I have some ideas. Maybe I can find a link between Lyle Greenie and him if that guy is really dirty."
Irene lightly patted her brother Danny's hand, comforting him while speaking to their father.
"The NYPD has previously arrested a few Elmar Gang members who are still serving time. I could try making a deal to see if they'll give us some addresses," Danny finally calmed down, suggesting his plan. His "deal" was the usual police tactic of offering better meals, single cells, or even a transfer to a better prison in exchange for intelligence.
"Then there's Raimondo Salazar's girlfriend, Sylvia. She might know about a hidden location. But before that, we should head to Staten Island. You must have surveillance outside your house, right?" Jack's comment made Danny suddenly realize something and jump up to leave again.
This time, Frank didn't stop him, only cautioning, "You two, be careful. We don't need any more accidents."
The Dodge Hellcat roared across the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge connecting Manhattan and Staten Island. While it might not be as famous as the often-destroyed-in-movies Golden Gate Bridge, it is the largest suspension bridge in the U.S.
It was already late at night, but the bridge was still busy. Staten Island, once dismissed by New Yorkers as a garbage dump, had now become something of a paradise.
Compared to Manhattan's exorbitant property prices, houses here were far more affordable, and the population density was relatively low—though still much higher than in Los Angeles.
Danny's home was located in a white-collar neighborhood in central Staten Island. It was a modest two-story house with a small attic. There wasn't even a front yard, but standalone houses like this were a rarity in New York.
Upon arriving, Danny rushed to access the surveillance footage. Meanwhile, Jack casually glanced around the living room. It was clear this household of two kids had plenty of belongings, but everything was tidily arranged, giving off a warm and cozy vibe.
"I found it! They posed as cops to trick Linda out the door," Danny quickly returned to the living room, placing a laptop on the table.
"I'll take a look. You should eat something first," Jack pushed the burger he had bought on the way toward him.
Linda had been abducted around 2 PM, roughly four hours after Raimondo Salazar was arrested. A dark brown, old-model Ford Mondeo had stopped in front of Danny's house.
A tall, skinny white man with a fake police badge at his waist knocked on the door. Moments later, Linda came out with a small suitcase. However, when she approached the car, she realized something was wrong. Standing by the vehicle was a man with gang tattoos on his neck.
"It was Raimondo Salazar's right-hand man, George Lupino," Jack immediately recognized the man, having seen his file on Danny's computer not long ago.
Danny, who was eating the burger absentmindedly, gritted his teeth so hard it seemed they might crack.
Linda, a petite yet feisty police detective's wife, kicked the fake cop in the groin the moment she sensed danger and tried to run. But George Lupino grabbed her from behind, covered her mouth, and injected a tranquilizer into her neck.
Even then, she fought back fiercely. But the strength of two adult men was too much for her to resist. Within seconds, Linda was shoved into the back seat of the car without even being able to call for help.
"It doesn't look like they intended to harm Linda," Jack said as he sent screenshots from the surveillance footage to the operations center for facial recognition and vehicle tracking, trying to reassure Danny.
Danny, silent and brooding, tossed his half-eaten burger back into its bag, grabbed his phone, and dialed Linda's number again.
As expected, the call went to voicemail. Instead of hanging up, Danny left a message once the prompt sounded. "This is Detective Danny Reagan. I need proof that my wife is still alive. You'd better call me back soon—I want to hear Linda's voice.
"Let me talk to her, or I swear your boss is dead. After that, I'll come for you. I'll rip your hearts out—do you understand?"
After leaving the threatening message, Danny collapsed onto the couch, visibly drained and despondent.
Jack knew that any words of comfort would be futile at this moment. He could only pat Danny's shoulder and say, "Get some rest. We'll figure it out in the morning."
The next morning, Jack drove the sleep-deprived Danny back to Manhattan and dropped him off at the precinct. Before letting him go, he warned, "Don't punch anyone in jail. I know you're anxious, but now's not the time to stir up trouble."
Danny nodded and thanked him before hurrying into the station. Watching him leave, Jack shook his head, started the car, and returned to his office at the federal building.
The operations center hadn't made much progress. The footage from Danny's house didn't capture the license plate of the dark brown Ford Mondeo. The car was too generic. Analysts were still retrieving footage from nearby streets to track it, but hopes weren't high.
Facial recognition yielded no useful results either. While George Lupino was already identified, the skinny fake cop was confirmed to be an Elmar Gang enforcer, but his current whereabouts were unknown.
Jack went to see his boss, Dana Moore, who was also cautious about leaking information. She couldn't authorize a large-scale search, so the operations center was limited to providing technical support.
However, she agreed with Jack and Frank's suspicion that the prosecutor Lyle Greenie was compromised. Investigating him would take time, but it wasn't an immediate solution.
After briefing her, Jack sat in her office, lost in thought. Dana observed him with interest, resting her chin on her hand.
When Jack snapped out of it, he realized he had been sitting in his boss's office for nearly an hour. Embarrassed, he scratched the back of his head.
"Got an idea? Let's hear it," Dana said, smiling as she pushed a cup of coffee toward him.
"I'm wondering—if another key witness willing to testify against Raimondo Salazar emerged, would his loyal subordinate George Lupino show up again?" Jack tapped the armrest of his chair as he spoke, his thoughts becoming clearer. His eyes brightened.
"You're talking about Raimondo Salazar's girlfriend, Sylvia?" Dana adjusted her gold-rimmed glasses, hiding a faint smile.
"When Salazar was arrested outside the beauty salon, he must have realized that Sylvia was the one who sold him out. Eliminating her would be a priority. However, because I arranged her relocation, neither the Elmar Gang nor their inside man knows where she is.
"But if I inform a certain prosecutor that Sylvia is willing to testify and has crucial evidence, what do you think he'll do?"
Jack's plan unfolded in his mind, involving a bait-and-trap strategy. "Why not let them come to us?" he concluded.
"They'd demand to see Sylvia, learn the safehouse address, and then send their best enforcer—George Lupino. You'd capture him, extract information, and use it to find Danny's wife," Dana summarized, nodding in approval.
"Exactly," Jack confirmed, his determination solidified.
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Reborn in America's Anti-Terror Unit (Chapter 542)
Solomon in Marvel (Chapter 924)
Becoming the Wealthiest Tycoon on the Planet (Chapter 1284)
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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