A traitor to both sides, the ultimate asshole…

Your friends dress like your enemies, and your enemies dress like your friends.

Then let’s get to work. Sarin…shit! We must stop these guys…again.”The men nodded, stone-faced. Was it really déjà vu all over again?

Twenty-five elite law enforcement officers against six racist assholes. Four to one; pretty good odds.

Look at that asshole! Not a care in the world! Today, I fish; tomorrow, I blow up a mosque. Smart, hiding in plain sight. 

. . . being on the wrong side of a pissing contest is never a good thing.

When the prosecution is confronted with concrete evidence of a defendant’s innocence during a trial or investigation, or even after a jury renders an erroneous guilty verdict, that prosecutor must come forward, as an officer of the court, to make sure that justice is done. Defense attorneys have no such obligation, even when they know their clients are guilty.

Jack was angry with himself . . . He shouldn’t have allowed himself to be alone with the terrorist but his obsession with capturing him clouded his judgment. Now, he faced the ultimate irony. Here in this place, at this time, he stood accused of being a criminal, like those he spent his career bringing to justice.

Jack Dylan was not a religious man, but he thanked God that Zack was a more talented lawyer than he, Jack, was a police officer. Zachary Blake is a master; he will never mimic my carelessness. Somehow, he will persuade the jury to find me ‘not guilty.