"What the hell was that?"
Jack and Danny sat in the car, shielding their heads, both breaking out in cold sweats as debris rained down on the Suburban, clattering against the roof under the pull of gravity.
Though Jack had managed to brake in time, the shockwave left spiderweb-like cracks all across the windshield. Two other NYPD cars were even closer, and Danny Reagan was now yelling into his phone, trying to confirm if there were any casualties among their people.
Jack stared in disbelief at the scene, with only one thought running through his mind: he'd had this Suburban for less than three hours. Would Jubal Valentine agree to let him get another one?
---
"Two explosions in under twelve hours, thirty-six dead, and two of our own agents lost. This is an act of war!"
When Jack returned to the operations center, he found Dana Morges in a fury, her previously calm and poised demeanor replaced by pure rage.
Her reaction wasn't surprising. Having risen through the ranks at the NY FBI office, Dana was back with big ambitions and proud of the capable team she'd assembled. But just one month into her new role, her team had been humiliated by a group that didn't even belong to a known terrorist organization, likely just small-time gangsters trying to seize territory.
This conclusion was what Jack had arrived at on the drive back, after learning from Danny Reagan about the gang dynamics in the Clinton area—better known as "Hell's Kitchen."
In the late 20th century, the NYPD had expended considerable effort to dismantle the entrenched criminal groups in that area. As the area became safer and urban development picked up, its location made it increasingly desirable. This prompted the New York City Planning Department to invite in a wave of new real estate developers.
With a surge of new residential and commercial buildings, young professionals and middle-class residents moved in, turning the remaining old six-story red-brick apartments into the last gathering spots for the few locals, mainly African-Americans, who chose to stay.
Today, Hell's Kitchen was less "hell" and more of a bustling area known for its trendy restaurants, which was part of why Jack had chosen to settle there. The increase in local prosperity also led to more police presence, which kept gangs in check. While they hadn't disappeared, they learned to keep a low profile.
Despite this, the NYPD still periodically swept through, not wanting any gang to grow too powerful. The Macbarra family had been the latest to be made an example of. Likely as a result, some saw this territory as a ripe prize, but even Jack was puzzled as to why such aggressive tactics as bombs were being used in a simple turf war.
If Jack, new to the city, had deduced that someone was trying to seize territory, it was no stretch that the dozens of analysts, and the intelligence network supporting them, would reach the same conclusion.
Despite Dana's outburst, Jubal Valentine remained calm, waiting until Dana noticed Jack had returned. She adjusted her tone slightly and finally slowed her pace to speak.
"With the top two figures of the Macbarra family taken out and the gang heavily weakened, this looks less like an internal power struggle and more like an attempt by other gangs to seize their territory.
"The Clinton area only has two gangs strong enough to match the Macbarra family: the Bloodhound Gang and the Sex, Money, Murder Gang. I need intel on them immediately."
Jack leaned against an empty desk, chiming in with Jubal. "On the way back, I got some information from the NYPD. No gang around Clinton is organized or well-funded enough to take over the Macbarra family's territory all at once.
"Neither the Bloodhound Gang nor the Sex, Money, Murder Gang is up to the task. Unlike border states, New York doesn't make it easy for drug cartels to transport goods. Dealers bring the drugs in, sell them to local distributors, and make a decent profit without needing extensive local territory."
Despite being a fresh face at the NYPD, Jack was no stranger to drug cartels. His time with the CIA, though unsuccessful officially, had furnished him with plenty of knowledge on this front, thanks to Rossi's files and his networking with a former cartel accountant.
So, with the entire team's eyes on him, Jack spoke with calm confidence. A person who knew his stuff never felt pressured by an audience; Jack could practically hold a lecture on drug cartel operations with all the knowledge fresh in his mind.
"I looked into the Macbarra family's drug types and volumes over the last year. They sourced heroin and fentanyl from multiple suppliers, blending them in specific ratios before sale. Their annual operating costs alone exceed ten million dollars, while their net income is about fifty million. Subtract the costs of maintaining their distribution and personnel, and, well…their profit margin's worse than some Michelin-starred restaurants in Clinton."
His remark drew chuckles from around the room, and even Dana's expression softened slightly as she listened to his analysis with interest.
"So, our target isn't a local gang but possibly an outside group, maybe even from outside New York City."
Jack ended his speech there, knowing this wasn't his BAU team where he could freely voice ideas or even occasionally overstep his bounds. Here, he had to defer to Jubal Valentine, who was quick to process Jack's detailed analysis and began issuing orders.
"Have the NYPD gather all recent observations from street patrols at tomorrow morning's briefing. Focus on any gang activity that's moved into New York City in the past three months, especially in the Clinton area. Cross-reference this with Organized Crime Division records. We need a list of suspects."
With orders given, the operations center buzzed back to life, with the sounds of typing and phone calls filling the air.
"Jack, come to my office," Dana called as she turned on her heel, her high heels clicking briskly down the hallway.
Jack quickly handed his Suburban keys to Jubal Valentine, clasping his hands together in a silent plea for him to handle it. Leaving Jubal looking momentarily bewildered, Jack followed after Dana.
In less than a day, Dana had gone from calling him "Agent Jack Taveler" to "Agent Jack," and now to simply "Jack." Those familiar with the meaning of this shift knew it signified acceptance, a welcome change for Jack, who entered her office with calm confidence.
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