"No, no, no, this isn't right. It's not that simple." Ronik paced back and forth nervously.
Recalling what Bishop had said to him earlier, Jack had a rough idea of what was going on and tentatively asked, "Is this Danny Barbero also a member of the DPD's 'Anti-Black Squad'?"
Ronik nodded, his eyes sinister as he removed the handcuffs from his waist. "I need to talk to Bishop. Are you coming too?"
-
A few minutes later, in an office with the heating turned off, a gangster boss, handcuffed, faced two bodies covered with clothes, his expression unchanged.
Ronick pointed to the body lying on the ground and introduced, "His name is Danny Barbero. Like Ray Botno, the man you killed, he was a member of the DPD's anti-gang unit.
Now, I need to know why someone from the DPD's anti-gang unit would risk sneaking into my police station to rescue you. Do you know the true identities of those guys outside, Bishop?"
"Before I answer that question, I need to know who this gentleman is. A federal agent. Are you here for me too?" Bishop said, turning to Jack.
"Would you believe me if I said I was just passing through here with a friend? My office is in New York, not Detroit." Jack impatiently flashed his ID.
He had no good feelings for this gangster. Even now that he was a prisoner, he still put on a pretentious front, who knew who he was showing off to? Perhaps it was his way of protecting himself, but Jack wasn't buying it.
"Sheriff Roenick is a dedicated officer, doing his job. My advice to you is to cooperate."
Roenick was less tactful than Jack. "Answer my questions, or I won't mind handing you over to those bastards out there.
I'm about to take up a civilian position at Precinct 21, so I don't think anyone would bother me over such a small matter. Remember, my life isn't the only one threatened right now."
Bishop's eyes darted between the two of them before he finally raised his hands in resignation.
"Well, this isn't a very complicated matter. First of all, Sheriff, and this FBI agent from out of town, I assume you all know who I am, right?"
"A ruthless criminal," Roenick said through gritted teeth.
"I'm sorry, I hadn't heard of him before today," Jack said frankly. There were, let alone hundreds of gang leaders of his size in the entire Detroit area, let alone across the United States.
He wasn't in the organized crime department, so how could he possibly know about such a local tyrant without asking around?
Bishop was visibly choked by Jack's words, and it took him a moment to regroup. "Okay, I believe you're just passing through.
What I want to say is that I have a partner, Marcus Duval. More precisely, Marcus Duval and his entire team."
"Who's Marcus Duval?" Jack remembered hearing Ronick mention the name before.
"Inspector Marcus Duval, head of the DPD's Anti-Diamond Unit, and Ray Botnot's superior to this Danny Barbero,"
Ronick replied, then turned to Bishop. "Are you trying to say you're actually in cahoots? What's the story between you and Ray Botnot? Why did you kill him in the church this morning?"
Bishop's expression was rather indescribable. "Simply put, we were originally splitting the profits 50-50, but Marcus Duval apparently wasn't happy with that. He wanted to adjust it to 30-70, but I refused."
"So you killed Duval's representative, Ray Botnot, in response?" Jack felt like this guy wasn't as smart as he seemed.
"No." Bishop shook his head. "I underestimated them. Apparently, they've found a new partner. Botno was out to get me, but I got the better of him."
That made a lot more sense. Jack rubbed his chin. "So Duval and his men are here to silence us?"
"Yes, my lawyer contacted a federal prosecutor and offered him some terms. You know, the evidence I have is enough to send Duval and his men to prison for the rest of their lives.
So when I saw you, I thought you were a federal agent from the Department of Justice." Bishop explained why he had approached Jack earlier.
"Unfortunately, I'm not. The agent you're expecting is probably still on the way." It turned out this guy wasn't being self-indulgent, and Jack finally cleared up his last remaining doubts.
As a nation governed by maritime law, prosecutors in the United States cannot directly command the police, as evidenced by the interactions between the Reagan siblings.
As an assistant district attorney, Erin Reagan had no right to direct Danny Reagan. They even had occasional conflicts, like when Danny arrested someone and Erin decided not to prosecute.
The FBI, however, is an exception, as their immediate supervisor is the Department of Justice, and the Attorney General is the Attorney General.
Unlike Jack's composure, Sheriff Roenicke, standing beside him, was practically furious. "How many officers are involved in this?"
"The entire 'Anti-Black Squad'? I don't know the exact number, but I'd guess no fewer than 20. There's no way they'll let me leave this station alive."
Bishop wore a wry smile. Unlike Jack's composure, he preferred to take things one step at a time.
Roenicke misunderstood his expression and spoke through gritted teeth.
"You're still happy, aren't you? They've gone this far, and they won't allow anyone to leave this station alive. Not you, not us, not even the three remaining prisoners in the holding area. Not a single chance."
There was a gentle knock on the office door, followed by John's voice, "Jack, Sheriff, you'd better come out and take a look." In the distance
,
headlights flickered on as three large SUVs, treading over the snow on the main road, slowly approached, trailed by two police cars in DPD livery.
Three SUVs parked brazenly on the main road directly opposite the police station entrance, their high beams on, pointed directly at the gate, as if to show off their power, a way of declaring their confidence.
Jack leaned against the thick brick wall, flipping up a corner of the blinds and watching the two police cars blocking either end of the main road.
"I thought I came to Detroit to deal with criminals, not to shoot the cops," John scoffed.
Jack knew this guy was always brash, but he was surprised to see him remain so composed in this seemingly desperate situation. It seemed he'd been through a lot in the years since he left the LAPD.
The others' performances were much less impressive. Alice, a civilian officer who didn't even carry a gun, was so nervous her lips were pale, even her lipstick couldn't hide the color.
Veteran Officer Jasper's expression was sullen, and he glared at Bishop fiercely, as if ready to pounce and bite him.
Psychologist Alex looked completely confused about the situation, but judging by the situation outside, she was obviously aware that the visitor was not a good person