Police in America

"I am your angel of death, Dale DeGroote. I want you to know what I'm about to do."

In Zone D, the vicious-looking Gunnar Cade, with the Third Reich eagle tattooed on his throat, was personally operating the acetylene cutting torch, working on the lock of Cell 3's iron door.

"Once I burn through this damn door, you're as good as dead."

"I'm going to burn you alive, you filthy, lying little rat, and show everyone what happens to a snitch."

Behind him, the brown-skinned Latina nun, Sister Carmelita, was clutching her stabbed abdomen, leaning against the iron door of Cell 5, gasping in pain.

"Gunnar, stop this. There are cops everywhere outside."

"Shut up, Carmelita, you God's whore. The only reason you're still alive is because I, a so-called racist, have no interest in you."

Two of Gunnar Cade's men, playing their roles well, burst into timely laughter.

"Shut up, you bastards. Show some respect for a member of the clergy."

A stern warning came from inside Cell 5, delivered by Hotchner.

Gunnar Cade suddenly put down the acetylene torch and walked over to the door of Cell 5, sneering as he spoke.

"I've heard of you guys, the FBI's BAU. I hear you're all supposed to be smart. I don't get it. How did such smart people get tricked by a moron like Chester Hardwick?"

"He told me about his plan. His execution date is coming up, and you were his last hope, so he set up a trap to be alone with you."

"No guns, no phones, and no guards, making it easy for him to kill two FBI eggheads and delay his own execution. I admired the idea, so I told him when we'd start the riot."

"So, since you're still talking, why not tell me—did he end up getting killed by you instead?"

Hotchner didn't respond. After a moment of silence, Reid's rambling voice echoed from inside Cell 5.

"Actually, I don't think you'll be able to get that door open this way. This kind of old-fashioned lock is almost solid metal. It would take you at least an hour to cut through with that torch."

"If I were you, I'd focus on the hinges instead. People tend to overlook the obvious—if you cut through the top and bottom hinges, the whole door will just fall down."

"Shut up, Dr. Reid! This isn't the time to show off. If he opens that cell door, we're dead."

Reid let out a small gasp at Hotchner's scolding, as if he suddenly realized his slip-up.

Gunnar Cade froze, seemingly trying to figure out whether the FBI agents were trying to trick him or if they had accidentally revealed the truth.

"Is he telling the truth?" he suddenly turned and asked his two men.

The two exchanged bewildered looks, seeing only confusion in each other's eyes.

"B-boss, we don't know about this stuff. We're just the muscle. You're the one who does the thinking."

Gunnar Cade hesitated for a moment, then checked the iron door again, muttering a curse under his breath. He picked up the cutting torch, intending to continue his previous work.

"Boom!" A sudden loud noise echoed down the corridor, startling Gunnar Cade. He dropped the tool and looked toward the end of the hallway, reaching for the AR rifle he had placed nearby.

Amid the sound of heavy, approaching footsteps, one of his associates, dressed in full riot gear, stumbled into the corridor.

The man was covered in blood, looking extremely battered. His left hand was inside his body armor, seemingly trying to press down on an injured area, but blood was still dripping from the wound.

The guy was tough—he charged forward without a word, clutching a handgun in his right hand.

"What happened?"

Already irritated, Gunnar Cade straightened up and directed his question at the newcomer. The other two henchmen, quick to act, moved forward to support their wounded comrade.

The staggering associate seemed unsteady on his feet, barely managing to stay upright. His helmeted head slowly lifted, and as Gunnar Cade, who had been watching him closely, noticed something was off.

"Where did you get that gun?"

The gun in the guy's hand looked way too nice. Gunnar hadn't seen anything that good when they raided the armory.

"Bang!" Gunnar Cade's thoughts were cut short as he collapsed backward, staring up at the ceiling.

"Bang! Bang!"

"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!" Jack, having pulled out the MK24 hidden in his armor with his left hand, fired in unison with the FK7.5 in his right hand.

One shot to Gunnar Cade's forehead sent him off to meet Kennedy. The two nearby prisoners, still in shock, each took two bullets to the chest, followed by a shot to the head, splattering the walls with their brains.

It was done. Jack raised his pistols and blew on the barrels as if he were in a Western movie, though the only witness was the elderly nun, who was already delirious from blood loss.

"Clear."

At his signal, the sound of hurried footsteps filled the corridor, and a group of SWAT officers swiftly rounded the corner.

"Nice shooting." Hondo walked up to Jack, looking at the three bodies on the ground, and whistled in admiration.

When Jack had suggested impersonating one of Gunnar Cade's men to get close, Hondo had hesitated, but Jack's next words convinced him.

"Even if it fails, the situation won't be any worse than it is now, right?"

So, they put the plan into action. They found a full set of riot gear and helmet for Jack, punched a hole in the abdomen, and filled it with a blood bag.

After pretending to negotiate, three SWAT members silently took out the three prisoners guarding the door with suppressed HK416s, then blew open the welded iron door with plastic explosives.

As soon as the door was blasted open, Jack sprinted out, rounded a corner at full speed, then slowed his pace, keeping his head down and pretending to be a wounded prisoner. This gave him the chance to get close to Gunnar Cade.

Gunnar Cade wasn't the first criminal to be fooled by Jack's increasingly convincing performance, and he probably wouldn't be the last.

When the iron door of Cell 5 was opened, Hotchner, standing before Jack, revealed a side of himself usually kept hidden.

Usually impeccably dressed in a suit and tie, Hotchner now stood with his tie gone, only the innermost blue shirt remaining, a few buttons torn off, exposing his thick chest hair.

"Wow, what happened to Reid?" Jack was startled by Hotchner's appearance, noticing the bruises around his eyes.

Hotchner stepped aside with a huff, revealing the prisoner lying on the ground behind him, with Reid nervously keeping watch over the guy.

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