The FBI briefing room smelled like stale coffee and bureaucratic tension. Agent Johnson sat at the head of the conference table, his suit pressed to perfection and his expression suggesting he'd rather be anywhere else. Agent Whitney flanked him, taking notes on a legal pad with the mechanical precision of someone going through familiar motions.
I knew they were dirty. Sitting across from them, watching Johnson's rehearsed presentation about the kidnapping case, it took every ounce of self-control not to react to their performance. In a few days, these men would be trying to kill Carter, Lee, and now me. The knowledge sat in my stomach like a lead weight.
"The ransom demand is fifty million in bearer bonds," Johnson was saying, clicking through slides that showed Soo Yung's school, her daily routine, and crime scene photos from the consulate. "We believe the kidnappers are connected to a Hong Kong triad organization operating in Los Angeles."
Carter shifted in his seat beside me, his skepticism obvious. "So why bring in a Hong Kong cop if this is happening in our backyard?"
"Inspector Lee has specialized knowledge of the criminal organizations involved," Whitney answered smoothly. "The Hong Kong Police Force has been tracking these groups for years."
Tracking them while working with them, I thought, remembering Lee's complicated relationship with his uncle's criminal past. But that was information Marcus Chen shouldn't have.
"What's our specific assignment?" I asked, keeping my voice neutral.
Johnson's smile was thin and condescending. "Simple. Pick up Inspector Lee from LAX, give him a tour of the city, and keep him occupied while we handle the investigation. Think of it as... cultural exchange."
The dismissive tone made Carter bristle. "So we're babysitters."
"You're diplomatic liaisons," Johnson corrected. "This is a delicate situation with international implications. We need Inspector Lee to feel valued while ensuring he doesn't interfere with our operations."
While ensuring he doesn't solve the case you're sabotaging, I amended mentally.
"His flight lands at 2:30," Whitney added, sliding a manila folder across the table. "Full briefing materials, including his service record and background information."
I opened the folder and found myself looking at a professional headshot of Jackie Chan—no, Inspector Lee. Seeing his face in an official FBI document was surreal, like finding a movie poster filed under government documents. The accompanying text detailed his years of service, his commendations, and his reputation as one of Hong Kong's finest detectives.
All of it was information I already knew, but I forced myself to read through it like I was seeing it for the first time. Lee's record was impressive—dozens of major cases solved, numerous commendations for bravery, and a reputation for unconventional methods that got results.
"Any questions?" Johnson asked, checking his watch with obvious impatience.
Carter raised his hand like a student. "Yeah, what's the real reason we're keeping this guy busy? Because this whole thing smells like week-old fish."
Johnson's expression hardened. "Detective Carter, I'm going to assume that's your natural skepticism talking and not insubordination. Your job is to follow orders, not question federal policy."
"My job is to serve and protect," Carter shot back, his voice rising. "Hard to do that when nobody's telling me what I'm supposed to be protecting against."
I put a hand on Carter's arm, feeling the tension in his muscles. "We understand the assignment, Agent Johnson. Cultural exchange and diplomatic relations."
Carter looked at me in surprise, probably expecting me to back him up. But I had bigger concerns than FBI politics. I needed to get out of this room before I said something that would blow my cover.
"Good." Johnson closed his briefcase with a sharp snap. "Inspector Lee's plane lands in three hours. I suggest you use that time to familiarize yourself with his background and prepare for what I'm sure will be an... interesting... experience."
As the FBI agents filed out, Carter turned to me with a mixture of confusion and frustration. "What was that about? Since when do you roll over for federal assholes?"
"Since I realized they're not telling us everything," I said quietly, closing the briefing folder. "And sometimes the best way to find out what's really going on is to play along until you get close enough to see the truth."
Carter's eyes narrowed. "You're different today, Chen. First the mug thing, now you're talking like some kind of philosopher spy. What's going on with you?"
The question hit closer to home than I was comfortable with. Carter's detective instincts were sharp, and he was already picking up on the inconsistencies in my behavior. I needed to deflect before his suspicions grew stronger.
"Long weekend," I said, standing up from the table. "Too much thinking, not enough sleeping. Come on, let's grab some lunch before we head to the airport."
LAX was a chaos of travelers, announcements, and the distinctive smell of jet fuel mixed with fast food. Carter and I waited at the international arrivals gate, both of us scanning the crowd for Inspector Lee. I knew what to expect—Jackie Chan's distinctive appearance was burned into my memory from countless movies—but Carter was working from a grainy FBI photograph.
"There," I said, spotting Lee before Carter did. "Two o'clock."
Inspector Lee emerged from the customs area looking exactly like he had in the movie—compact, alert, and carrying himself with the quiet confidence of someone who'd seen everything the world had to offer. He wore a simple black suit and carried a small overnight bag, his eyes scanning the crowd with professional awareness.
"Inspector Lee?" Carter called out, waving him over. "LAPD. I'm Detective Carter, this is Detective Chen."
Lee's face lit up with a genuine smile as he approached. "Detectives! Thank you for meeting me. I am Inspector Lee, Hong Kong Police Force."
His English was accented but clear, and his handshake was firm without being aggressive. Up close, I could see the intelligence in his eyes and the slight wariness of someone operating on foreign ground.
"Welcome to Los Angeles," I said, shaking his hand and trying not to think about how surreal this moment was. "How was your flight?"
"Long but comfortable. I have never been to Los Angeles before. I am looking forward to seeing your city."
Carter's expression suggested he was already forming opinions about their new charge. "Well, you're in for a treat. City of Angels, land of dreams, and home to more weirdos per square mile than anywhere else on earth."
Lee's smile faltered slightly at Carter's tone, and I jumped in to smooth things over. "Detective Carter has a unique way of expressing his civic pride. The city has its challenges, but it's also got character."
"Character," Lee repeated, testing the word. "Yes, I can see that already."
As we walked toward the parking garage, I found myself studying Lee more closely. In the movies, Jackie Chan's natural charisma made Inspector Lee instantly likeable, but meeting him in person revealed additional layers. He was observant, noting details about the airport layout and the people around us. His posture suggested someone ready for action despite his casual demeanor. And there was something in his eyes—a sadness, maybe, or the weight of experience.
"So," Carter said as we reached his car, "you been a cop long?"
"Fifteen years," Lee replied, settling into the passenger seat while I took the back. "My father was also police officer. Family tradition, you might say."
I remembered the complicated relationship Lee had with his father's legacy, but that was information I couldn't acknowledge. Instead, I focused on the present moment and the awkwardness of three strangers trying to find common ground.
"What kind of cases do you usually work?" I asked as Carter navigated the airport traffic.
"Organized crime, mostly. Triads, smuggling operations, that sort of thing. Hong Kong is... complicated. Many groups with conflicting interests."
Carter glanced at him in the rearview mirror. "Sounds familiar. We got our share of that here too. Speaking of which, you know anything about this kidnapping case we're supposed to be consulting on?"
Lee's expression became guarded. "I was told there might be connections to Hong Kong criminal organizations. Beyond that, I know very little."
It was a careful answer, and I could see Carter wasn't entirely satisfied with it. The truth was more complicated—Lee knew more than he was saying, but he was also being kept in the dark by both the FBI and his own superiors.
"Well, maybe between the three of us, we can figure out what's really going on," Carter said, his tone suggesting he was already forming an alliance.
"Three of us?" Lee looked confused.
"Yeah, me, you, and Chen here. The FBI wants us to keep you entertained while they handle the real work, but I got a feeling this case is going to need more than just federal bureaucrats to solve it."
I watched Lee's face in the side mirror, seeing him process Carter's words. In the movie, their partnership had been built on mutual respect earned through shared danger. But here, in this moment, they were just three cops trying to navigate a situation none of them fully understood.
"I would welcome the opportunity to work with American police," Lee said carefully. "Perhaps we can learn from each other."
Carter grinned. "Now you're talking. Chen, what do you think? Ready to show our new friend what LAPD can do?"
The question hung in the air as we merged onto the freeway, Los Angeles spreading out before us like a concrete ocean. I could see the city's potential for beauty and violence, the way it could embrace you or destroy you depending on which path you chose to walk.
"I think," I said, watching the skyline grow larger, "this is going to be more complicated than any of us expect."
Lee nodded thoughtfully. "In my experience, Detective Chen, the most important cases usually are."
As we drove toward downtown, I realized that the dynamic between the three of us was already different from what I'd seen in the movie. Carter was more suspicious, Lee more cautious, and I was an unknown variable that could change everything.
The question was whether that change would be for better or worse.
Only time would tell.