"I grew up on this street. I just finished my military service and came back here," Brick continued.
Hearing he was a veteran, Danny Reagan smiled slightly. "Do you miss Hell's Kitchen?"
Brick frowned, answering with a hint of irritation. "I prefer Florida, but my mom has run a restaurant here for 40 years, and she doesn't want to leave. This place used to be a mess; she was robbed often. Now it's safer, but life is harder. The rich are trying everything to push us poor folks out."
As he spoke, Danny Reagan noticed that Jack's gaze was fixed on a group of boys playing basketball nearby, with a few officers taking their statements.
"See something?"
Jack looked thoughtful. "I just got to New York, so I'm not that familiar with East Coast gang tattoos. Can you help me figure out which gangs these guys belong to?"
As a detective, Danny Reagan's powers of observation were sharp. With Jack's cue, he glanced briefly and recognized the signs immediately.
"The ones with 'MMG' tattooed are from the Mudamur gang. Those with 'RUS' on their shoes belong to the Together Gang. Interesting. We have at least five different gang members here. Brick, what exactly is your job here? Conflict mediator?"
"Huh?" Brick followed their gaze toward the groups of boys, then shrugged indifferently. "They're just playing ball here. Anyone who tries to start trouble gets kicked out. I don't care to hear their gang nonsense."
"Have you seen any MS-13 guys here?" Jack asked, suspecting there was more to Brick than met the eye. If a single veteran could keep a group of gang kids in line, the NYPD might not need to maintain its massive force.
Brick chuckled as if Jack had made a joke. "Are you kidding me? There's no way those maniacs would show up here. The closest thing to Salvadorans around here is that Mexican kid working for me."
He gestured casually toward a young man dressed like a model student.
Jack's question about MS-13 stemmed from a warning given by Jubal Valentine before he left. Apparently, he had intelligence indicating that this infamous, ultra-violent gang might be trying to expand into New York.
For Jack, a former LAPD officer, MS-13 was all too familiar. The letters "MS" stand for "Mara Salvatrucha," which translates roughly to "Savage Salvadorans." The number 13, according to some, originated from the gang's founding on 13th Street in Los Angeles.
The origin of it all dates back to a notorious fruit company, United Fruit. After World War II, a wave of revolutions swept across Central America, with impoverished nations rebelling against exploitation. This sparked a 12-year civil war in El Salvador, a coffee-rich country.
With US support, El Salvador's military government began widespread massacres, forcing many refugees to flee to the US by any means. Poor and lacking resources, these immigrants settled in the slums. To survive, a group of young Salvadoran refugees in Los Angeles founded MS-13 in the 1980s.
As more war-hardened Salvadoran ex-soldiers joined, this initially defensive group rapidly transformed, becoming one of the most violently extreme gangs, notorious even among the Mexican-dominated "18th Street Gang."
MS-13 members are known for two things: brutality and tattoos. They're especially fond of using machetes, hacking their enemies to pieces and arranging the remains in macabre patterns, sparing no one, including the families of their enemies, even women and infants.
Secondly, their tattoo culture is intense. Jack remembered a time at the US-Mexico border when he encountered a scrawny MS-13 member with tattoos covering his entire body, including his forehead. These tattoos serve both as intimidation and as a barrier, discouraging members from leaving the gang.
Mexican drug cartels often recruit MS-13 members as expendable cannon fodder. Raised in violence and extreme poverty, these gangsters are ruthlessly effective and dirt-cheap.
MS-13 had terrorized New York for a long time. About six or seven years ago, the streets of Long Island saw over 20 random killings as MS-13 members casually murdered pedestrians for sport, causing a national uproar. The NYPD launched a large-scale operation, scouring the city for gang members and eventually expelling MS-13 from New York.
But now, only a few years later, it seemed MS-13 was back for more.
Danny Reagan waved over an officer, calling out, "Joey, bring that Mexican kid over here."
The officer nodded, pushing the young man toward them. When they arrived, he corrected Danny, "Turns out, he's not Mexican. He's Salvadoran."
Danny Reagan's expression darkened. "Take him directly back to the station."
At that moment, a bomb disposal specialist, heavily suited in protective gear, walked out of the gym holding a tablet. One of her team members rushed over to help remove her heavy helmet. Jack was surprised to see the bomb expert was a woman.
"What's the situation?" They all leaned closer, eager for her assessment.
"Six grenades wired together. Each has modified fuses, new detonators installed. The trigger is a cell phone. Whoever did this knows what they're doing."
"Uh," Jack glanced at the six little "lemons," barely believing what he saw. "Is that an M26 grenade?"
"Technically, it's the M26A1, the kind used in the Vietnam War. I haven't seen one of these in years," the expert corrected, displaying her familiarity with this retired model.
"This makes sense then. Most of these old grenades were sent as aid to Central American countries, including El Salvador."
Jack rolled his eyes. "Full circle, huh."
---
Half an hour later, in an NYPD interrogation room, Danny Reagan glared fiercely at a young Salvadoran named Wilmer, who sat in front of him. Jack stood beside Danny with his arms crossed, his own expression intimidating.
"I—I'm not with MS-13. Do I look like one of those crazy guys with tattoos on their faces?"
Wilmer, who looked about fifteen or sixteen, wore a clean white T-shirt, spotless brown jeans, and freshly scrubbed blue sneakers. His exposed skin was free of tattoos, giving him the appearance of an innocent high schooler.
"Of course, you don't," Danny retorted. "That's because, starting in '07, MS-13 realized their appearance was too distinctive. They now forbid most members, aside from core ones, from tattooing their faces. The rest look just like you—dressed like you, too—but they'll still go out and kill random strangers for fun."
Danny and Jack didn't bother with a good cop-bad cop routine. They were on a tight schedule and needed to get this kid to talk as quickly as possible.
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