Jack downed the last of his delicious fish soup and stood up to start clearing the table. "Police officers don't usually suffer sudden mental breakdowns. First thing tomorrow, JJ, contact Newark PD and ask about Gabriel's performance during his probationary period. Focus on why he didn't pass.
"Maybe they noticed a personality flaw or found that he had trouble handling pressure, which is why they sent him off to a small-town precinct."
"Got it," JJ replied.
Jubal clapped his hands, signaling the end of the meeting. "We head out for New Jersey first thing tomorrow. You all know the drill—sort out your personal lives and family responsibilities before we leave."
"We already have a 'drill' now?" Aubrey muttered under his breath, then tried to slip away unnoticed. Unfortunately for him, Jack grabbed him by the collar before he could escape.
"Not so fast. Help me clean up the dishes."
"I brought a tuna big enough to feed all of us for a week, free of charge!" Aubrey protested as he reluctantly started gathering plates.
Jack sighed. "Have you ever seen a chef who had to wash the dishes himself?"
It wasn't that Jack didn't want to delegate the task—he had no choice. Hannah had splurged on a complete set of English bone china plates. These fancy, gold-edged dishes with intricate glazes were too delicate for the dishwasher. Even handwashing required extra care to avoid chipping or scratching them.
If the plates weren't so stunning and didn't make his dishes look so much better, Jack would've long since replaced them with ordinary ones. Most rebirth protagonists get luxury cars, mansions, and superhuman abilities. Jack? He got stuck cooking and washing dishes.
That, of course, was just a joke. Everyone had their own way of coping with stress—spending time with loved ones, gaming to unwind, hosting yacht parties with glamorous models, or, in Jack's case, kneeling in the backyard to pickle salted duck eggs. Different methods, same goal: to relieve the daily tension of life.
Around the world, police officers had similar experiences, especially those who dealt with criminal cases. Constant exposure to the darker side of society took a toll. You only had to look at Detective Danny Reagan's increasingly thinning hairline to see the psychological strain.
That's why Jubal had previously told Jack that unless it was a mandatory assignment, their team should only take on one fugitive case a month.
The previous case—the murderous "Bonnie and Clyde" duo—had showcased the purest form of evil. While their heinous actions could be traced back to their dysfunctional upbringing, the victims were entirely innocent.
Even when facing Ronnie's mother—the true "villain" of the story—Jack felt no urge to kill her. At most, he felt contempt for her selfishness and irresponsibility, mixed with pity for her ignorance and self-destruction.
Looking ahead, the Fugitive Task Force was bound to encounter more cases like this. They might not face as many psychopathic serial killers as the BAU or as many mundane cases as Detective Reagan, but maintaining their mental health would always be critical.
Jack had no intention of seeing one of his colleagues or old friends end up as a fugitive years down the line.
The next morning, Jubal drove the team in the command vehicle. Since New Jersey was right next door to New York—and part of the greater NYC area, just like Connecticut—Jack brought along his Dodge Hellcat, with Clay following in a GMC. This way, they'd have enough vehicles to split up once they arrived, without needing to borrow from the Newark office.
After crossing the Holland Tunnel into Jersey City, they headed west to Newark and then onward to their destination: Morris Township.
The initial attempt to contact Newark PD regarding Gabriel's probation period wasn't exactly smooth. Their reluctance was palpable, with delays and evasive responses that suggested they didn't want to be associated with the cop-killer in any way.
Still, JJ persisted. Eventually, she managed to schedule a meeting with Lieutenant Peroni for the following morning.
"This Peroni guy sure has some nerve," someone quipped. "Even NYPD's Reagan doesn't make us book appointments to meet him."
On the drive, Clay couldn't hold back his questions any longer. Over the radio, he asked, "Why did you say yesterday that cops don't easily have mental breakdowns? I always thought police officers and soldiers were similar—prone to psychological issues."
"I can't speak for the military's methods for dealing with battlefield-related mental health issues, but you should've received relevant training and testing back in Quantico," Jack replied.
"What I meant is that police officers don't usually suffer the sudden, acute breakdowns that soldiers might experience. Most police unions provide specialized training on how to self-assess mental health.
"Unlike soldiers facing combat stress, police stress builds gradually over time. It can manifest as depression or inward-turned anger, leading to suicide. Or, it can be outwardly directed, resulting in excessive use of force.
"But there's always a process—it doesn't happen overnight. And during this process, there are usually warning signs. That's what we're looking for."
Jubal chimed in over the radio. "We're chasing a cop, which is one of the hardest kinds of fugitives to track. He knows how to catch criminals, which means he also knows how to cover his tracks.
"To be honest, Clay, you might be right—our guy could be a tough opponent."
Jubal's words weren't lost on the rest of the team. The radio channel briefly filled with giggles from the women, but Clay pretended not to notice, keeping his focus on the case.
"So, if I understand correctly," Clay said, his tone earnest, "this time, instead of chasing evidence left at crime scenes, we need to identify his motive through those warning signs, which could help us predict his next move."
"Exactly," Jubal confirmed. "And remember: he might not be better than us, but his training gives him an edge. Any evidence he leaves behind could be deliberate—meant to mislead us."
Clay nodded, adopting a "good student" attitude. "Got it. He might be good at faking evidence, but he probably doesn't understand psychology as well as we do. If we can talk to his colleagues or friends, we might uncover the trigger that caused him to snap—and understand his motive."
"Gabriel never opened up to anyone at Morris Township PD—not even me, his partner. I've also never heard of him having any close friends," said a tall, lanky Black officer to the assembled FBI team.
Clay's face fell visibly.
"Remember what I said," Jubal reminded him with a smile. "Three days. Whether or not we solve this case, you're heading back to New York to help Stella."
(End of Chapter)
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