Donovan shifted uncomfortably. Derek, I need to be straight with you. Kowalski's getting nervous. Says this has gone too far. That maybe you should turn yourself in.
Turn myself in? Derek laughed bitterly. So Brooks can make an example of me? So they can parade me around as the poster boy for police racism? It's better than dying in some standoff.
Which is where this is headed if you keep going. Derek turned back to the television, which now showed footage from outside the courthouse. The camera focused on Marcus Brooks escorting Jamal Washington through a media gauntlet. Mr. Brooks, a reporter called, do you believe Officer Simmons specifically targeted Mr. Washington in the courtroom? Marcus's response was measured.
Officer Simmons' actions speak for themselves. What began as a case about excessive force has evolved into something much larger. Evidence of systematic misconduct that was knowingly concealed from the public. Derek's expression darkened as Marcus continued. The sealed files we've accessed reveal disturbing patterns in the now disbanded Central Tactical Taskforce.
This isn't about one officer. It's about accountability at every level of a system that protected abusive behavior. He's going after everyone, Derek whispered, his paranoia crystallizing into purpose. This was never about justice. It's about tearing down the entire department.
Donovan recognized the dangerous shift in Derek's demeanor. What are you planning? Nothing yet, Derek lied. Just thinking. But his mind was already racing, calculating how to strike back directly at the man who had become, in his distorted view, the true threat.
At the Howard Street coffee shop, Marcus sat in a corner booth, positioned to observe all entrances. Captain Laura Reeves arrived precisely on time. Her civilian clothes and lack of insignia, a deliberate attempt at anonymity. Thank you for meeting me, Marcus began once she was seated. I don't have much choice, do I?
She replied, her voice tight. Not with what you've found. Marcus placed a folder on the table. Operation clean sweep. Your signature appears 87 times in these documents, Captain.
She flinched. That was a different time. Different how? The department was under pressure to reduce crime statistics. The task force delivered results.
By violating civil rights, Marcus countered. By covering up brutality. Laura's composure cracked. You don't understand the pressures, the expectations. Do you know what happens to commanders who don't deliver the numbers the politicians want?
I understand choices, Captain. And you made yours. Marcus leaned forward. But right now, I'm more concerned with finding Derek Simmons before he hurts someone else. I've already told the chief everything I know about his possible locations.
Have you? Marcus challenged. The task force maintained three unofficial processing sites. Locations absent from official records, but present in these files. Did you share those with the chief?
Laura's silence was answer enough. Derek knows about them, Marcus continued, and so do his former colleagues, the ones who are almost certainly helping him now. If I help you, Laura said carefully, what happens to me when this is over? That depends on how valuable your help is. Marcus held her gaze.
Starting with the names of officers still on the force who were loyal to the task force, officers who might be sheltering Derek. Laura took a deep breath. Jack Mercer, traffic division. He and Derek went through the academy together. Ray Donovan, retired last year, but still connected.
Mike Kowalski, also retired. Addresses? Mercer lives downtown. Donovan has a hunting cabin upstate. Kowalski?
She hesitated. His mother owned a property on the east side. He took it over when she died. Marcus made notes. The processing sites, which one would Derek most likely use?
The warehouse on Palmer Street. It was their favorite. Isolated, multiple exit points. As she provided details, Sophia quietly relayed the information to the DA's office. Teams were already being assembled.
Search warrants expedited. There's something else you should know, Laura added, her voice dropping. Derek kept insurance, documentation of operations that came from higher up, things that would implicate former Chief Miller and others. What kind of documentation? Written orders for questionable operations, recordings of meetings where explicit instructions were given to violate procedures.
She looked away. He called it his retirement plan, protection in case anyone ever came after him. Marcus understood immediately. That's why he's still free. He's not just running from prosecution.
He's leveraging that information for help. People with a lot to lose will go to great lengths to keep their secrets buried, Laura confirmed. As they concluded their meeting, Marcus felt the weight of what they were truly confronting. Not just one dangerous officer, but a network of corruption that had tentacles throughout the department's history. Finding Derek wasn't simply about ending a manhunt.
It was about determining which version of justice would prevail. Jamal Washington stared at his face on the television screen, barely recognizing himself in the somber composed figure delivering a statement on the courthouse steps. Three days into the manhunt, he'd become more than a victim. He was now a symbol, a reluctant spokesperson thrust into a national conversation about policing and race. "I never asked for any of this," he told Marcus as they sat in the safe house living room, two security officers stationed outside.
"All I wanted was for one cop to be held accountable for what he did to me." "I know," Marcus replied. "Sometimes cases become larger than the individuals involved." Jamal gestured to the stack of interview requests on the coffee table. "CNN, MSNBC, Fox News.
Everyone wants the traumatized black victim to cry on camera. You don't have to do any of them." "Don't I, though?" Jamal's voice hardened. "If I disappear, the story becomes all about Simmons, the troubled officer pushed too far.
My silence lets them control the narrative. Marcus studied the young man, impressed by his insight despite the pressure he was under. What do you want to do? I want to speak, Jamal decided. But on my terms.
Not as a victim, but as someone demanding accountability. He paused, vulnerability breaking through his resolve. But I'm scared, Marcus. Simmons is still out there. What if speaking publicly makes me more of a target?
That's a legitimate concern, Marcus acknowledged. But you'd have security. And staying visible actually provides a certain protection. Harming you would only amplify everything Simmons is trying to silence. Jamal considered this.
My mom thinks I should just let it go. Move somewhere else. Start over. Is that what you want? No. The answer came quickly, surprising even Jamal.