American Detective: Starting as a Rookie Cop in an American TV Show

Chapter 1313: Detective Doudou's Nightmare Day (still a two-in-one chapter)

"Leave it to me. You guys split up and follow Diane Hansen and Stiles' gang." Jack put away the M110A1, put it on his back, and quickly went downstairs along the fire escape.

Triangulating a cell phone's location using cell towers is an old trick, and it usually only gives a rough estimate, while hacking into a phone and turning on GPS directly for positioning is much more accurate.

While Officer "Dou Dou" was taking away Reese's phone, Finch hacked into the phones of several people nearby via Bluetooth.

Therefore, even if he experiencedly pulled out the SIM card in Reese's phone and smashed the phone, Jack could still follow Finch's instructions and follow the plainclothes police car he was driving from a distance.

The police car drove east along the Long Island Highway, passing a series of small farms and golf courses, and arrived at the scenic Oyster Bay.

Although the base building of the wanted criminal team is also in Long Island, it is Jack's first time to come to this place because there are almost no people here, and no one means an extremely low crime rate.

In other words, this is also a very good place to dump corpses. Just find a mudflat and dig a hole. When the body is almost rotten, the sea water will wash away the mud and sand, and will also take away the remaining debris.

"I hope you like it here. After all, you will be staying here for a long, long time."

At this time, Reese in the car had also woken up, and Detective "Dou Dou" told him a serious and unfunny joke.

While getting up from the back seat, Reese secretly put the Bluetooth headset he had hidden earlier into his ears, and said jokingly, "Actually, I'm curious, when did you realize you had become a bad guy?"

Although his cell phone was smashed, the cell phone of the detective who was driving could still be connected.

Detective Doudou had nothing to hide about the “dying man” in his eyes, “Like everyone else, I also have loans to pay off.

One day I woke up in bed and suddenly realized that my job was to protect a bunch of Wall Street vampires who were squeezing everyone's blood and sweat and making more money in an afternoon than I would make in my entire life, so I told myself, screw it."

"It sounds like it makes some sense." Jack clicked his tongue when he heard this conversation.

Of course, he was not saying this to Reese, but to a "Mr. Finch" who had made billions from Wall Street.

"Mr. Tavola, strictly speaking, I made my money by taking advantage of loopholes in the rules and taking advantage of those vampires. Besides, there is no one on the road ahead. Can you consider rescuing Mr. Reese?" Finch said seriously.

Jack pressed the accelerator slightly. Although his Audi R8 was a bit conspicuous and not very suitable for tracking, it would not be a problem as long as the distance between the two cars was kept within the visual distance that could be seen in the opponent's rearview mirror.

The powerful roar of the V10 engine instantly increased the speed of this bulletproof supercar to an astonishing speed.

Although today’s traditional engines have fallen behind Seres’ cutting-edge four-wheel independent drive motors in all aspects of performance, the roaring sound of the engine also represents a kind of sentiment, and of course, only sentiment remains.

Jack had discussed with Chris before whether he should also try to build an electric car that could take off from the spot. Although pure electric sports cars are a bit of a stretch, hybrid ones are not impossible.

The key is that thing can dance. Wouldn’t it be fun to take a girl and teach her to sing “Dad’s Dad is Called Grandpa” in the car?
Meanwhile, the conversation in the plainclothes police car continued, Reese speaking calmly and shaking his head slightly as if he was chatting with a friend.

“I don’t think so.” He approached the iron fence that separated the front and back seats of the police car. “I’ve been watching you before. I’ve been following you for almost a day, Lionel (Fusco).”

Detective "Doudou"'s face changed slightly when his name was revealed. He had never revealed his identity before, which meant that what the guy in the back seat said might be true, and he might have been targeted by him for a long time.

"I think there's a big difference between you and your friends. You still have your bottom line in your heart."

Lionel Fusco narrowed his eyes slightly and did not respond, wanting to hear what this guy wanted to say.

"Stiles will do anything for money, but you are different. You have to do things that go against your principles in order to protect yourself, such as sinking me into Oyster Bay as ordered."

Detective Doudou's cheeks twitched as these words touched his inner secrets. He couldn't help but say, "What difference does this make? Do you think I will let you go if you say this? You heard what happened just now. I don't want to die yet."

Reese smiled and shook his head, his voice still low, "No, what I want to tell you is that because of this, I will spare your life."

Lionel Fusco glanced in the rearview mirror and made sure someone's hands were still handcuffed, then he laughed out loud as if he had heard a joke.

Reese also laughed with him, and continued while laughing, "I may stay in New York for a while, but the few new friends I have met are all busy, and it is not suitable for me to disturb them often.

I need a spies inside the NYPD, so I thought you might be the right person for the job."

"So you're going to offer me a job? I'd be very grateful." Fusco had already treated Reese as a clown at this point and responded very cooperatively, as if he was waiting for him to tell some more "funny" jokes later.

"Of course, but I have two rules." Reese said slowly, "First, if you try to hurt innocent people again like you did today, I will kill you.

I really don’t like killing people, but I’m really good at it.”

At this moment, the roar of a V10 engine suddenly sounded from behind, and quickly came closer and closer. The black Audi R8 supercar flashed past the left side of the plainclothes police car where they were, like a black lightning, raising a long cloud of dust on the remote road in front of them.

For a moment, Detective Doudou, who was driving, was attracted, but because the other party was driving too fast, he couldn't even see whether the driver was a man or a woman.

But he didn't care. After all, he was driving a plainclothes police car. Although Oyster Bay was a bit remote, it was a holiday resort for the wealthy. Some celebrity residences were still preserved. It was normal to see a rich second-generation racing car passing by.

Fusco came to his senses and looked at the rearview mirror again to confirm that someone's hands were still restrained. Then he continued to ask, "What about the second one?"

"The second rule is, next time you search me, you'd better search more carefully and don't leave anything behind."

Before Fusco could react, Reese lowered his head, hugged his knees, and yelled, "Jack! Do it!" Fusco was feeling puzzled, but suddenly he saw that the black Audi R8 that had just overtaken him was now parked across the middle of the road. A figure leaned out from the cab, holding a long-barreled sniper rifle pointed at him.

"Fake."

Fusco was an experienced driver who had received professional training. He immediately resisted the urge to swerve the steering wheel, stepped on the brakes hard, and only slightly moved the steering wheel to prevent the car from rolling over.

However, at this moment, gunshots suddenly rang out, and the right tire of the plainclothes police car was directly blown out. The car instantly lost control. Feeling the car tilting to the right, Fusco hurriedly tried to turn the steering wheel in the direction, but the second gunshot rang out and the left tire was also blown out.

Fortunately, the car was not going very fast just now. With the sharp and piercing sound of brakes, the old Ford sedan left a long charred tire mark and drew a big S shape on the road, and finally stopped less than 8 meters in front of the Audi R3.

A third gunshot rang out, and the bullet shattered the windshield, grazed Fusco's cheek and hit the headrest.

This warning shot made Detective "Dou Dou" no longer dare to act rashly, and he raised his hands obediently when facing the gun muzzle so close.

"Excuse me." Reese knocked on the car window, motioning him to open the door safety. After getting out of the car, he walked around the back of the car, walked to the driver's window, and handed over his handcuffed hands.

Fusco took out the key from his trouser pocket with a slight tremor and opened the handcuffs for Reese. In a blink of an eye, the two men switched roles, because Reese handcuffed him again with the handcuffs.

Jack put away the M110A1, opened the car door, reclined the passenger seat, and then gestured to Fusco to come in.

As a two-seater super sports car with a mid-engine, the Audi R8 does not have a trunk in the traditional sense. Apart from a small front space for a travel bag, people can only be squeezed into the space behind the seats.

Detective Doudou happened to have a horizontally developed body shape. Although Jack and Reese compromised with their long legs and tried to move their seats forward, when they arrived at the destination, he was still squeezed to the point of looking pale and almost out of breath.

However, after the two men pushed the dizzy Fusco onto the dock and let him see clearly the old man holding a fishing rod and a cigar in his mouth, his face became even paler.

"Thank you for your hard work, especially Jack. I owe you another favor." Frank Reagan turned to look at the three people and smiled like a kind retired old man. He took out a cigar box from his arms and threw it directly to Jack, indicating that he could help himself.

Fusco's lips trembled and his hands shook as he took the "cannon" that Jack had cut for him, as if he was sleepwalking.

"I think you must have a lot to say to me, right? Detective Fusco." Although Frank still had a smile on his face, the look he gave Fusco was extremely cold. At least that's how Detective "Doudou" felt at the moment.
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"Fusco is just a small-time character, and he has just joined the drug enforcement team. He can't know too much." Looking at the two NYPDs "chatting" at the dock from a distance, Reese looked rather unhappy.

Of course Jack knew why he was unhappy. Reese was now "working" for Finch, and Fusco was the NYPD "insider" he had found for himself.

As a result of his actions, the identity of the "insider" he chose was directly exposed.

"Stiles' gang, including Assistant Prosecutor Diane Hansen, are just minor players, and it will probably be a long-term task for Frank to dig out the real mastermind behind this."

Since this was the first time for everyone to work together, Jack thought it would be better to make some things clear in advance.

Both the FBI and NYPD Commissioner Frank Reagan were able to turn a blind eye to the "vigilante" behavior of Reaser and Finch to some extent, even though their actions involved multiple crimes.

But this is only to a certain extent. What Reese said in the car before was not false at all. Maybe he hates killing, but the CIA has indeed trained him into a killing machine.

The street security in New York is hopeless, but that doesn't mean Frank is willing to face a large number of security cases every day and see more corpses of powerful people.

Being rich and powerful has never been associated with the word "good person", just like the chief who manages a police system of more than 20,000 people in New York has never expected that all of his subordinates are good policemen.

This time, the number given by the "machine" points to the culprit Diane Hansen, an assistant prosecutor. Even if Reese chooses to kill her directly to save other lives, it will not cause much waves.

But if the person the number points to next time is the mayor, a wealthy person, or a celebrity, can he be killed so brutally?
Even though Jack, a semi-prophet, could no longer remember the detailed plot of "Person of Interest", he knew that this was unnecessary worry, otherwise Finch would not have given him the impression of a "Madonna" in his previous life.

But he couldn't pat his chest and assure everyone that Finch could control Reese, the CIA's killing machine, as tightly as he controlled a "machine", or make everyone believe that Reese was not a person who would do anything to achieve results.

At the moment, being able to convince all parties to cooperate and try to build some trust is the best solution Jack can achieve based on his performance in front of everyone and after some hard work.

As the saying goes, the butt determines the head. Whether it is Rossi and Dana Moger, who are senior FBI officials, or Frank Reagan, they just hope that the "train" will run on the right track as much as possible. Even if this track is already dilapidated, at least the direction is clear.

Rossi and Dana want to solve hidden dangers like "Decima Technology", and Frank hopes to eradicate the mole hidden in the NYPD, but no one wants to see the corpses of guilty people piled up along the way.

From the perspective of law enforcement, if killing can solve all problems, then there would be no need for any laws, let alone prisons.

Ultimately, this is still a question of trust. Jack is not worried about it. As time goes by, as cases brought by "unrelated numbers" are solved one by one, this unnecessary worry will disappear sooner or later.

"Frank doesn't mind one of his detectives becoming your so-called 'spy'. You can continue to do what you want. You know, I'm very busy.

I know that we haven't established real trust yet, but this is not a big problem. Take it slow. You can ask your informant for help with small matters in the future. If he can't handle it, you can ask Detective Beckett from the 12th Precinct and her writer boyfriend.

Detective Danny Regan and even my boss, Ms. Dana Moger."

Jack looked calmly at Reese, who had a gloomy face. After a moment of silence, the latter seemed to want to say something but finally just nodded helplessly.

"Whatever, but I still hope you're not too busy. You did a great job with those three shots just now."

Seeing that the two people on the dock didn't seem to be finishing their conversation for a while, Reese looked up at the darkening sky and asked, "Should we go and solve the last problem?"

(End of this chapter)