In the end, Danny begrudgingly spent a few extra bucks to grab two more orders of salt-and-pepper lobster as takeout, one for each of them as their late-night snack. Both men were working overtime tonight, albeit on separate assignments.
Jack wasn't planning to hoard all the food he ordered for himself. Jubal and Hannah, along with a small team, were preparing for an all-night session in the operations center.
Surprisingly, Jack's sizable order only cost him a little over $100. The low prices in Chinatown made him question the quality of the ingredients, but it wasn't as if he'd never eaten questionable street food before. Like those enticing yet unhealthy fried snacks sold outside school gates back in the day, indulging once in a while wouldn't hurt. Worst case, he could secretly cast a healing spell on anyone who ate it.
After placing the order at the restaurant's takeout window, Danny marched inside, heading straight for their target.
"Nelson Zhou, I'm Detective Reagan, and this is my partner, Detective Tavore," Danny said briskly. He made his way to a small round table in the back of the restaurant's main dining hall, where three greasy, overdressed young Asian men were laughing with several heavily made-up "ABC" women who exuded a distinctly streetwise vibe.
Danny wasted no time. "Step outside. We need to have a word," he said, jerking his head toward the door.
Nelson Zhou, a young Chinese-American barely in his twenties, looked up lazily. His flat nose, thin lips, and lifeless fish-like eyes gave him an unremarkable appearance, though his K-pop-inspired clothing made him stand out more as a wannabe Korean idol than a local Chinese.
It wasn't clear whether Nelson was third- or fourth-generation, but he clearly hadn't managed to integrate into the "elite Chinese" circles. He was the kind of kid who didn't excel academically and instead found his place among Chinatown's newer, smaller gangs—a far cry from the organized crime syndicates of yesteryear.
Gone were the days of the 20th-century Chinatown, dominated by powerful factions like the Fuk Ching and Bamboo Union gangs. Under pressure from FBI crackdowns and joint task forces, those old organizations had either vanished entirely or shifted to money laundering operations for South American drug cartels.
Lacking the fresh blood to sustain themselves, many of these old gangs faded into obscurity.
By contrast, today's Chinatown gangs were disorganized, opportunistic, and far removed from their predecessors. They dealt in "small-time" crimes, with loosely structured memberships that were often a mix of ethnicities. While predominantly Chinese, it wasn't uncommon to see a few white or Black members among their ranks.
Case in point: one of Nelson Zhou's companions at the table was a chubby kid with curly hair who peppered his broken English with "Aish" and "Sibah," revealing his Korean origins.
"I'm eating," Nelson muttered, lighting a cigarette with a practiced air of defiance.
Danny reached over, grabbed the cigarette from his mouth, and extinguished it in the lobster platter on the table. "Smoking's prohibited in here. Didn't you see the signs on the wall?"
Without another word, Danny yanked Nelson out of his chair like a misbehaving child. "Let's go."
The restaurant immediately grew tense. The chubby Korean kid jumped to his feet, reaching for an empty beer bottle on the table.
Jack stepped forward, casually lifting the hem of his trench coat to reveal his sidearm and badge. His face wore a faint, menacing smile. "What's the plan, Sibah? You want to join him?"
The chubby kid muttered something under his breath, but the moment his eyes met Jack's, a chill ran down his spine. His legs wobbled, and he sank back into his seat as if all the fight had drained out of him.
Jack's cold gaze swept across the remaining faces at the table. Each one—man or woman—instinctively averted their eyes, suddenly finding the floor or their drinks far more interesting.
Pathetic. These wannabe thugs don't even compare to the old-school Hong Kong triads, Jack thought disdainfully. Even the women they hung out with were subpar.
By the time Jack returned to the takeout window to pick up his food, Danny had already searched Nelson and cuffed him. A marked NYPD patrol car pulled up behind Danny's unmarked vehicle, and Jamie Reagan stepped out in uniform.
"Is this him?" Danny asked, shoving Nelson toward his younger brother.
"Yeah, that's the guy who drove off last night," Jamie confirmed.
"You're sure he had a gun on him?"
"Absolutely," Jamie replied with a firm nod.
"Well, you're under arrest," Danny said, shoving Nelson into the back seat of his car.
Nelson began protesting loudly. "What for? What are you arresting me for?"
"For blowing my week's snack budget early," Danny quipped as he slammed the car door shut.
Turning to Jamie, he asked, "How's it going with Internal Affairs? Everything cleared up yet?"
Jamie's face darkened slightly. "Not yet. They're grilling me about why I was in Chinatown so late at night. They even found a witness who claimed I was talking to someone there. They just won't let it go."
Danny clapped his brother on the shoulder and locked eyes with him. "I told you they'd give you a hard time. They'll dig up witnesses and piece together everything you said and did that night.
"I don't care what you were up to, but you better get your story straight and stick to it."
Danny had clearly noticed something was off about his younger brother. Still, he chose not to pry, trusting that Jamie wouldn't get involved in anything unethical.
In Danny's mind, Jamie's late-night trip to Chinatown was likely innocuous—a snack run or shopping trip. Maybe he was buying some knockoff designer goods to impress his girlfriend. Internal Affairs probably suspected the same and was just using the situation to rattle him.
Danny didn't press further. Like his father, Frank Reagan, Danny believed in tough love. Jamie was the baby of the family, spoiled by both his parents and his older siblings. But sometimes, setbacks and challenges were the best teachers.
While Danny took the suspect back to the precinct, Jack swung by the FBI office. His bag of steaming hot takeout was met with cheers from his coworkers.
The investigation into the Blue Templar was being handled by a small, select group led by Jubal and Hannah. To avoid leaks, the operation was kept low-profile. The Federal Building was teeming with liaisons from various agencies, including NYPD, so discretion was key.
After finishing his midnight snack, Jack returned to the NYPD headquarters, only to find an unexpected visitor at Danny's desk: Assistant District Attorney Erin Reagan.
"You're not even going to leave Danny a bite?" Jack teased as Erin delicately finished the last piece of lobster and wiped her mouth with a napkin.
"He won't be happy to see me anyway, so who cares?" Erin replied with a shrug, her attitude as carefree as ever.
Jack sighed, already guessing why she was here. "You're here to ask him to release Nelson, aren't you?"
"He arrested him on suspicion of carrying a firearm, but you haven't found the gun, have you?" Erin said, her tone unapologetic.
Jack didn't expect to crack the case in one go. The investigation into Nelson Zhou was just getting started. Whether they detained him or let him go, the goal was to rattle the cage and force whoever was behind him to make a move.
Even in Chinatown, pulling a gun in public to kidnap someone was a bold, reckless act. Jack suspected there was more to this—perhaps it was tied to human trafficking or forced prostitution. Either way, it reeked of organized crime.
This was Jack's first foray into a case involving Chinese gangs, and he was eager to scratch that curiosity itch.
Not long after, Danny stormed out of the interrogation room, only to find Jack chatting with Erin at his desk. Erin, in her usual no-filter style, was gleefully recounting a childhood story.
"When he was 12, we went to see E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial as a family, and he actually started crying because E.T. scared him..."
"Hey!" Danny cut her off, his tone half-annoyed, half-defensive. "What brings you here, Erin? Planning to spill all my embarrassing childhood secrets?"
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