10 9. Jack Doesn't Give a Jack

(* Slightly Re-Edited in September *)

{ The Present Time -- New York, United States ---}

A beat-up, gray sedan vehicle is speeding and zipping through the busy streets of New York City. 

"Screeeech!"  The gray car brakes very suddenly as the traffic backs up a little.

This car looks old, but the guy driving it is quite young.  The car is probably older than him. 

"Honk honk!"

As he impatiently honks, he loosens his tie and re-adjusts the NYPD badge hanging over his chest as well.

After the traffic finally clears a little, he speeds up his gray car again, cutting in front of a white car in the next lane.

"Hey, watch it! Come on!" The white car driver complains, and then witnessing it running a red light.

"What the hell? Why is this guy driving like that?" The white car driver angrily says. Fortunately, there is an NYPD officer standing on the sidewalk, drinking coffee from a paper cup.

"Officer? Officer! Hello? Did you see that gray car? The man just cut in front of me recklessly and then ran a red light. Are you not going to do anything about it?"

The NYPD officer adjusts his hat and smiles, "No. I can't do anything about it."

"What? Why not?" The white car driver is now angrier.

"Because that's actually one of our NYPD detectives. Are you from out of town? I see you have a New York plate though. You've never seen Jack driving around, crazy?"

"No. I'm from up state New York."

"Well, pal, welcome to New York City. That's just one of our detectives, Jack Wolf. But I will remind him to put his police siren on the top of the roof of his car next time. Otherwise it is confusing."

"...." The angry man from the up state is speechless now.

Yes, that's Jack Wolf. He doesn't give a dime about traffic rules if he has to be somewhere.

As he drives past other surprised or angry drivers, he waves them off in his car, "Yah yah yah. I know you're mad. But I've got to be somewhere pronto."

Jack speaks the typical New York accent.  He has lived in New York since he was born and has never left.  Sometimes, his accent and his mannerism of "I don't care" makes him look like an old, blue collar guy.  But he really is only 25 years old.  He is the youngest detective on the special investigation task force squad.

He is now heading to the neighborhood, Flushing, because he just received information on the radio that an old man was holding a house full of people as hostage.

The streets of this particular part of Flushing are already lit up by police cars' red and blue lights. There are also many news cameras, live broadcasting vans, and reporters standing on the sidewalk. This yuppie little area has never received this much attention. It used to be a section of the city where poorer, working-class people lived. But a decade ago, it has cleaned up nicely and young people start to move in.

There has been a hostage situation inside one of these newly flipped houses. It started with a crazed veteran yelling incoherently in this neighborhood.  He said he was a veteran, served the country, but mistreated by the society. He then followed a young couple to this house. The house was hosting a party, so there were a dozen people inside. The crazed man then made everyone stayed, threatened to blow up the house with his home-made bomb.

The standoff with the police has been going on for a whole day. The man has no special demands but apologies from the Department of Justice and Department of Defense. For what, he hasn't specified. The SWAT team is on standby, waiting to go in.

"Alright, I'm here," Jack arrives at the scene.  He parks his car on the curb, surprising one female reporter who is standing there doing a live broadcast.

"Lady, you need to stand behind the yellow tape. If you sneak back in again I'll throw you inside the house with the hostages." Jack says.  He doesn't care if he has frightened this female reporter.

The female reporter is indeed very shocked and quickly goes back to where she is supposed to be standing.

Jack walks to the uniform officer Diaz  "Hey Diaz.  No new development? Just a bunch more of the news cameras?"

"No. Nothing new yet.  Just lots of media."

Jack feels his body burning with anxiety right now.

"And the captain hasn't called the SWAT team in then?"

"No."

"Good. Because we don't need SWAT. I'm going in."

"You are?" The uniform officer Diaz raises his voice, "But, you should check with the captain first."

Jack waves his hand and walks over to the other side of sidewalk. Officer Diaz shakes his head at Jack.

Suddenly, there is something coming towards Officer Diaz. Before Officer Diaz can turn around, some kind of blunt object hits Officer Diaz in the head from behind.

Officer Diaz stumbles forward but manages to not fall on his face. Officer Diaz has no idea what just happened. He thought something heavy just dropped on his head. 

On his knees, Officer Diaz touches the back of his head with one hand. He tries to look over his shoulder, but something that looks like a baseball bat is coming fast at him, again.

Officer Diaz immediately rolls to his side, trying to protect himself.

But nothing. Nothing strikes him.

What is going on? Officer Diaz looks up, and then looks back.

Good lord!

There is no more attack, because Jack has stopped the attack.  Jack single-handedly catches the baseball bat that is about to attack Officer Diaz.  Jack holds the bat's barrel end and throws it away. Jack stares down at a skinny man who was holding that baseball bat.

"Why are you attacking this officer?" Jack asks.

"I... I don't know?" The skinny man looks lost. He seems to just realize he is standing here.

In a split second, Jack suddenly grabs that man. Jack then instantly twists and breaks that man's left wrist before he even blinks. Everything happens so fast, the man can't react and can't comprehend.

"Get lost." Jack whispers and releases the man's wrist. The man then runs away.

Jack squats down by Officer Diaz. "Are you OK, man?"

"Yeah. I'm OK.  Thanks, Jack!"  Diaz replies.

"Geez, where have you been, Jack!" another voice sounds from behind Jack.