American Detective: Starting as a Rookie Cop in an American TV Show

Chapter 1367 Framed
At that time, Fusco had no choice because he knew he could not afford to offend "HR". Between the two options of either joining or being kicked out of the NYPD, he gritted his teeth and became a "black policeman."

This time, Reese also did not give him a choice. He did not dare to kill to silence the witnesses. Without the support of "HR", he killed four drug dealers in one go. Even if he could disguise the scene, he had no confidence to avoid the investigation of the Ministry of Internal Affairs.

He didn't even dare to send the drug dealer to jail. He had a 10-year-old son and couldn't afford to gamble.

Looking at "Detective Bean" who walked out of the apartment dejectedly, Jack flashed his headlights, but the man was so distracted that he didn't notice his Audi R8 parked on the side of the road.

Someone had to honk the horn lightly, and Fusco was startled. He looked up and saw a young FBI agent sitting in a car across the street. He quickly wiped the sweat from his forehead and trotted over to the car.

Jack opened the passenger door and motioned for him to get in. As if he had witnessed what happened before, he said jokingly with a smile, "Do you know that you missed a chance to be a hero?"

"What hero? A hero who was beaten to a pulp by drug dealers in the street?" Fusco laughed in anger. "My reputation is already very bad now. No one will believe that I can suddenly become a brave detective. The Ministry of Internal Affairs and the Mexican mafia will not let me go."

"Don't worry, I'll help you solve your problem." Seeing that "Detective Bean" was really angry, Jack decided not to tease him anymore, "I'll take you to see a good show first."
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Accompanied by a loud bang, a Mercedes-Benz sedan crashed hard into a roadside lamppost, the airbag popped out, and the car horn made a shrill blast.

The speed of police response to this "car accident" is likely to break the NYPD's historical record, as the accident occurred right at the intersection outside the rear door parking lot of the NYPD's 12th Precinct.

When a group of patrol officers and detectives who were getting ready to go off duty rushed to the intersection with flashlights, it might have been less than 30 seconds since the "car accident" happened.

When Benton woke up from his coma, he saw a blinding beam of light from a police flashlight, and his car was surrounded by NYPD officers from all sides.

"Sir, are you okay?" A beautiful plainclothes female detective knocked hard on the car window and asked loudly.

"Oh, damn!" Benton covered his head and groaned.

His memory still stopped at the time before he fell into a coma. He seemed to be waiting for the traffic light on the way to the bar. A man in a suit came up and knocked on his car window, as if to ask for directions. Benton subconsciously lowered the window and had no memory of what happened next.

"Something's wrong!" A police officer who was checking the situation inside the car with a flashlight suddenly yelled, and the other police officers around him all subconsciously took out their guns.

Benton was frightened by the actions of the cops and subconsciously looked towards his passenger seat in the direction of the flashlight.

There was a slightly deformed suitcase there. Perhaps because of the impact, the suitcase had been opened, revealing bags of white powder and a silver-white Desert Eagle pistol.

At the same time, on the roadside not far from the intersection, a black-painted Audi R8 was perfectly hidden in the shadows where the street lights could not reach. Fusco, who was in the car, put down his small telescope and asked in confusion.

"Is this the good show you were talking about? Why did the man in the suit frame the guy in the Mercedes-Benz?"

"This is a story that needs to be told from the beginning." Jack released the handbrake and slowly turned the car.

Detective Beckett, who was directing his officers to drag Benton out of the cab, heard a low engine sound. He turned his head in confusion and saw a familiar license plate flash under the street light and then disappear into the darkness again.
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"So in order to stop the doctor from killing people, the man in the suit plans to send the Wall Street kid to jail first?" After listening to Jack's story, Fusco suddenly realized.

Seeing Jack driving his sports car down the Long Island Expressway, he asked curiously, "But how did you know she was going to kill someone? And where are we going now?" "To your temporary residence for the next few days."

Jack parked the car in the underground garage of the base building. As soon as the puzzled Detective "Dou Dou" opened the car door, he saw his son rushing towards him shouting "Papa". Not far away stood Jiejie with a gentle smile.

"Since you are worried that the Mexican gangs will harm you and your family, we will protect you for the next few days. Don't worry, things will be over soon," Jack explained.

Fusco picked up his son, still a little dazed. Before he could think of what to say, he heard the sound of fist fighting coming from the boxing ring on the other side of the garage.

"Papa, Papa, I want to learn boxing too." The little boy who was held by his father twisted his waist restlessly and shouted loudly.

Fusco looked in the direction of the sound and saw the man in the suit with his upper body naked, fighting with another strong man who was younger than him.

Reese has regained several abdominal muscles. Although they don't look as muscular as Klay, who is his opponent at the moment, they are not much worse.

There were several scars on the naked upper bodies of the two men, including long knife wounds and round gunshot wounds. Under the rendering of light and sweat, they did not look hideous, but more like medals of men.

Jessica and Stella stood on both sides of the ring, holding towels and sports drinks in their hands, looking at their men with admiration and a little worry in their eyes.

"That's too barbaric. Let's learn your favorite sport, hockey." The big-bellied detective, feeling ashamed of himself in front of this scene, tried to persuade his son not to be exposed to his father's shortcomings too early.

Jack didn't expose this guy. He pointed in the direction of the stairs and suggested, "Go upstairs and eat something first. It's getting late. I'll show you the room later."

Carefully cutting the steak into small strips and putting them on his son's plate, Fusco asked without even looking up, "So the man in the suit is also an FBI agent?"

Jack shared the freshly-cooked garlic broccoli between the father and son. "No, he is a 'POI'."

"What 'POI'?" Fusco obviously didn't understand the meaning of the abbreviation.

Jack waited patiently for the child to finish eating, asked Jiejie to take him to wash up, and then explained the meaning of "Person of Interest" to him.

Detective Doudou blinked his eyes. "Is this some kind of science fiction story? Predicting crime? Is this something that modern technology can do? And as FBI agents, you plan to be part-time vigilantes?"

Jack slowly ate the steak on his plate and corrected, "It's not us, it's you. We are just helping, and you will be one of the support personnel of the 'POI' team."

"Hey!" Fusco was immediately unhappy, "I still have a lot of mess to clean up here."

"I get paid, so it's not in vain." Jack blocked all his subsequent complaints with just one sentence.

(End of this chapter)