The LAPD headquarters buzzed with the familiar chaos of a Monday morning—phones ringing, suspects being processed, and detectives nursing coffee that could strip paint. I followed Ramirez through the maze of desks, trying to act like I belonged while my enhanced senses picked up conversations three cubicles away and the subtle shift in air currents that suggested someone approaching from behind.
Everything felt hyperreal, like someone had cranked up the resolution on life itself. The fluorescent lights seemed brighter, the sounds more distinct, and I could smell the stale cigarettes on Ramirez's jacket from two feet away. Whatever had happened to me had definitely upgraded more than just my fighting abilities.
"Chen!" A booming voice cut through the morning din. Captain Diel emerged from his office, looking exactly like I remembered from the movie—stocky build, perpetually irritated expression, and the bearing of a man who'd been dealing with bureaucratic nonsense for too long. "My office. Now."
I shot a glance at Ramirez, who shrugged and headed to his desk. "Good luck, partner."
Captain Diel's office was cramped and cluttered, with stacks of files covering every available surface and a coffee maker that looked like it belonged in a museum. He gestured for me to sit while he settled behind his desk, studying me with the expression of a man trying to solve a puzzle.
"Detective Chen," he began, flipping through what I assumed was my personnel file. "Three years on the force, decent arrest record, no major disciplinary issues. Speaks Mandarin and Cantonese fluently. That about sum it up?"
I nodded, not trusting myself to elaborate on a background I'd inherited rather than lived.
"Good. Because I've got a special assignment for you. Ever hear of diplomatic protection?"
"Generally, yes sir." The response came automatically, and I realized that Marcus Chen's police training was apparently embedded in my subconscious along with everything else.
"Well, you're about to get a crash course. We've got a VIP coming in from Hong Kong—some hotshot inspector who's supposed to consult on a case involving Chinese nationals. The FBI wants to handle it themselves, but the brass wants LAPD representation to keep things smooth."
My pulse quickened. This was it—the setup I remembered from the movie. Inspector Lee would be arriving soon, and Carter would be assigned to keep him busy while the real investigation proceeded without him.
"What kind of case, sir?"
Diel's expression darkened. "The kind that makes everybody nervous. Chinese Consul's daughter. Kidnapping threat assessment turned into the real deal over the weekend. FBI's running point, but they want us to babysit their consultant so he doesn't accidentally solve their case for them."
The timeline was accelerating. In the movie, Soo Yung's kidnapping had seemed to happen quickly, but experiencing it in real-time made me realize just how fast events were moving. She'd already been taken.
"When does the inspector arrive?"
"This afternoon. You'll be partnered with Detective Carter for this assignment." Diel's lips quirked into what might have been amusement. "Should be interesting. Carter's not exactly known for his diplomatic skills."
James Carter. The memory of Chris Tucker's rapid-fire dialogue and hyperactive energy made me smile despite the gravity of the situation. Meeting him was going to be surreal.
"Is there a briefing file I should review?"
"Johnson from the FBI will fill you in on the details. What I need from you is simple—keep the Hong Kong cop happy, keep him out of the FBI's hair, and try not to let Carter start an international incident."
I stood to leave, but Diel's voice stopped me at the door.
"Chen? You feeling alright? You seem... different today."
The question hit me like a cold slap. Of course I seemed different—I was literally a different person inhabiting Marcus Chen's life. But I couldn't exactly explain that to my captain.
"Just focused, sir. Big case."
He nodded slowly, but his eyes remained suspicious. "Right. Well, stay sharp. This whole thing feels wrong to me, and when things feel wrong, cops tend to end up dead."
I left his office with those words echoing in my mind. Diel's instincts were correct—everything about this case was wrong, corrupted from the inside by Juntao's influence. But I was the only one who knew just how wrong it really was.
The bullpen was livelier now, detectives arriving for the day shift and the energy level ramping up. I found an empty desk that apparently belonged to Marcus Chen, complete with family photos I didn't recognize and commendations for cases I'd never worked. The cognitive dissonance was overwhelming.
"Chen!" Another familiar voice, this one higher-pitched and carrying a distinct note of irritation. "Where the hell have you been?"
I looked up to see Detective James Carter approaching, and the sight of him nearly knocked me off balance. Chris Tucker in person was somehow both exactly what I'd expected and completely different. He was smaller than he'd seemed on screen, but his energy was magnetic—like a live wire wrapped in a cheap suit.
"Carter," I managed, standing to shake his hand.
His grip was firm, and he studied my face with sharp eyes that missed nothing. "You look like hell, man. Late night?"
"Something like that." I was getting tired of that excuse, but it seemed to work.
"Well, wake up, sleeping beauty, because we just caught the assignment of a lifetime. Diplomatic protection for some kung fu cop from Hong Kong. FBI's briefing us in an hour."
The casual racism in his comment made me wince, but I reminded myself that this was Carter from twenty-plus years ago, not the more mature version who'd learned to respect Lee by the end of the first movie.
"You know anything about the case?" I asked, settling back into my chair.
Carter perched on the edge of my desk, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Chinese Consul's kid got snatched. Ransom demand came in yesterday—fifty million in bearer bonds. FBI thinks it's connected to some triad bullshit, but they're keeping the details locked down tight."
Fifty million. The number matched what I remembered from the movie, but hearing it in person made the stakes feel more real. A little girl's life hanging in the balance while adults played political games.
"What's our role supposed to be?"
"Babysitting duty. Keep the Hong Kong cop entertained while the real agents do the real work." Carter's expression soured. "Typical FBI bullshit—bring in a consultant, then make sure he doesn't actually consult on anything important."
I reached for my coffee mug, a generic LAPD-branded thing that felt familiar in Marcus Chen's hands. But as I lifted it, my enhanced grip strength kicked in without warning. The ceramic crumpled like paper, sending lukewarm coffee cascading across my desk and onto the floor.
"What the hell?" Carter jumped back, staring at the destroyed mug in my hand.
I stared at the ceramic shards, my heart pounding. The strength that had felt natural during my morning martial arts movements was apparently harder to control in everyday situations.
"Must have been cracked," I said weakly, brushing ceramic pieces into my trash can.
Carter's eyes narrowed. "Chen, that mug just disintegrated in your hand. You been hitting the gym or taking steroids or something?"
"Just been working out more." The lie came easily, but Carter's suspicious expression suggested he wasn't buying it.
"Uh-huh. Well, maybe save some of that energy for the kung fu master we're about to meet. Something tells me this assignment's going to be more interesting than the FBI wants it to be."
As Carter walked away, I slumped in my chair, staring at the coffee stain spreading across my desk. Twenty minutes into my first day as Marcus Chen, and I was already struggling to maintain my cover. The enhanced physical capabilities that had felt like a gift were going to be a constant liability if I couldn't learn to control them.
I pulled out some napkins and started cleaning up the mess, my mind racing through the challenges ahead. I had to meet Inspector Lee without revealing my knowledge of his background. I had to work with Carter while hiding abilities that would make him ask uncomfortable questions. And somehow, I had to navigate the FBI briefing without letting slip that I knew exactly who the real villains were.
The morning sun streamed through the windows, highlighting the chaos of the bullpen around me. Somewhere in this city, Soo Yung was being held captive by men who wouldn't hesitate to kill her if their demands weren't met. Inspector Lee was probably already in the air, flying toward a situation that would change his life. And Detective James Carter was about to meet the partner who would become his closest friend.
All of that was supposed to happen. The question was whether my presence would help or hinder the events that needed to unfold.
I finished cleaning up the coffee and leaned back in my chair, trying to center myself. The next few hours would determine whether I could successfully integrate into this world or whether my enhanced abilities and knowledge would mark me as an anomaly that needed to be eliminated.
Either way, there was no turning back now. Marcus Chen had a job to do, and I was the only one who could do it.
Even if I had no idea how to be him.