Dana Morges fixed Jack with an intense stare. Her tone was calm, yet every word seemed to make his heart beat a little faster.
"Rossi told me you're the most talented young agent he's ever met, someone he trusts completely. I went to great lengths to get you transferred here," she said.
Jack felt a chill down his spine. Compliments like these usually came with a catch, and sure enough, she continued, "I just lost two of my best field agents. The subway and tunnel systems across the city are still shut down, and our director has called me three times today for updates—not to mention the governor, the mayor, and various idle council members."
Dana leaned forward slightly, her voice lowering. "So, Jack, dear, can I trust you as much as Rossi does?"
That level of familiarity had just gone up a notch. Jack gave a mental eye-roll. At a time like this, was there any other answer?
"It would be an honor to serve, ma'am."
Dana's expression turned sly. "I'll be holding a press conference tomorrow afternoon to update the public on our progress. I'd like you standing right behind me at that podium."
It seemed this was her way of delivering pressure—subtle yet unmistakably heavy. It was already past ten at night, and the implication was that she expected Jack to identify the mastermind before the press conference.
As a seasoned professional, Jack knew this was an opportunity to negotiate.
"We're short on leads and pressed for time, and there could be another bomb out there. Would you authorize some… unconventional methods?"
Dana waved her hand dismissively. "Do whatever you need to do. Here's a small hint: if I were you, I'd start by learning a bit more about my partner, even if it's just a temporary one."
Jack paused, puzzled. She had to be talking about his NYPD partner, Danny Reagan. Was there something special about him?
Jack gave an awkward chuckle and was about to leave when Dana's voice stopped him again. "I've heard you're quite the sharpshooter. At the Dallas supermarket bombing, you stopped the last bomber from triggering an explosion, didn't you?"
"Uh…" Jack blinked, surprised by the question. That incident should already be in his file.
Dana didn't wait for his response, pressing on, "I hope you'll be just as decisive this time. I don't want to see any more innocent casualties."
"As you wish, ma'am," Jack replied, understanding her unspoken message. Avoid innocent casualties, but if you must, let it be the perpetrators who face justice. The FBI and local police might handle things differently at times, but in some cases, the approach was the same—an eye for an eye.
Leaving Dana's office, Jack returned to his desk and immediately searched the FBI database for Danny Reagan's background. The information there was more than enough to clarify Dana's hint.
Danny Reagan was a fourth-generation NYPD detective. His father, Frank Reagan, was the current NYPD Commissioner, and his grandfather, Henry Reagan, was the former commissioner. Danny also had a sister, Erin Reagan, an assistant DA, as well as two brothers: Joe Reagan, a fallen officer, and Jamie Reagan, a recent Harvard Law graduate who had chosen to join the NYPD as a rookie patrolman.
In other places, such a family legacy might have attracted accusations of nepotism or dynastic privilege, but Jack didn't see it that way. Policing in America wasn't exactly a glamorous career, and anyone born into a family that chose to stay in law enforcement for generations was worthy of respect.
It was becoming clear that Dana Morges hadn't introduced him to people like Danny Reagan or Mac Taylor from CSI by accident. She had specific motives for these connections. During his time in the BAU, Jack noticed that while the FBI collaborated extensively with local police, they usually handled the most difficult cases—hard, thankless work that local agencies preferred to avoid. When they did crack a high-profile case, the local police often downplayed the FBI's role.
The FBI, holding vast resources, could only watch as state and city police restricted access to cases within their jurisdiction, unless it involved terrorism, child abductions, or interstate crimes. Rossi's approach had been more straightforward: as long as the BAU could handle the toughest cases efficiently, local police had no choice but to appreciate their help. And with the BAU able to take on cases nationwide, they rarely had downtime.
Dana Morges, as head of the local office, didn't have the same freedom. In New York, FBI jurisdiction often clashed with state and NYPD jurisdiction, and the FBI couldn't touch cases that the NYPD refused to hand over. Her solution was to foster cooperation, so everyone would benefit. If they solved cases together, they'd all share the credit; if things went south, they'd help each other manage the fallout.
With tensions running high between the FBI's New York office and the NYPD in recent years, Dana's appointment was a strategic choice from higher-ups. Besides using her local connections, this joint task force was her way of showing goodwill and building bridges.
But things had escalated quickly. If the serial bombings went unresolved, it would be Dana's reputation—and possibly her career—that would take the hit. Jack didn't care much for politics, but Rossi had explained these intricacies well enough for him to understand what was at stake.
Bound by the same interests as Dana, Jack was determined to bring his A-game and solve the case as quickly as possible.
So, his first night in New York was spent working late at the FBI office.
The night passed uneventfully, and as dawn approached, Jack found himself standing in a high-rise building, watching the sunrise for the first time over the Manhattan skyline. The sun emerged slowly, casting a golden glow over the towering buildings as the city came alive for another day. He squinted, trying to pick out Wall Street in the distance.
The phone on his desk vibrated, breaking the tranquility. It was Danny Reagan on the line. "We've found another bomb!"
Jack hurried out of his office and headed toward the operations center, where he met Jubal Valentine, who looked just as sleep-deprived. Jubal tossed Jack a set of car keys.
"Here's your new car. Take it easy this time. Oh, and keep an eye on MS-13."
Jack caught the keys, nodded, and made a quick stop downstairs to grab three coffees and a sandwich before jumping into the car, sirens blaring, and racing toward the Clinton Community Sports Center.
When he arrived, the area was on lockdown, swarming with NYPD cars, fire trucks, and even an ESU armored vehicle. ESU, the NYPD's equivalent of LAPD SWAT, had the site under heavy surveillance.
A burly, blond man with a buzz cut and a thick beard was briefing Danny Reagan, while a middle-aged female detective jotted down notes beside him.
"Hey, Jack, over here," Danny called out as he spotted Jack approaching. Jack walked over, giving him and the woman each a coffee.
"Oh, you're a lifesaver," Danny said, taking the cup gratefully. Exhaustion was evident in his bloodshot eyes; he'd clearly been up all night as well.
"This is my partner, Jackie. Jackie, meet Jack—my other partner," Danny said with a grin, despite the lame joke likely resulting from his coffee-fueled energy.
"Don't mind him," Jackie said with an eye-roll, embarrassed on behalf of her partner. "He's had way too much caffeine."
"This is Brick, the facilities manager here," she added, introducing the blond man.
"Have there been any threats against this place recently?" Jack asked.
Brick shook his head. "I've only been managing this place for a few months, so I'm at a loss."
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