Detective John Hartigan

I head straight to a terminal as soon as I get back to the precinct. XAB235.... registered to a guy named John Wick. I smile a little as I see we have a name in common. Lives in upstate New York... or he did, until his house burned down. And... that's it. Nothing else on his record, not even a parking ticket. This record's been altered. 

"I told you to let it go, Hartigan," says Bullock as he comes up behind me.  "This guy is protected from up on high by the prince of darkness, or something... really top level stuff. Whoever they are, they want local law enforcement out of it." 

"Feds?"

"Beats me," he says with a shrug. "That's something you gotta learn about GCPD, Hartigan. Most of the time, we're just here to clean up the mess."

Godammit John, you're getting mixed up in another corruption case. Last time that happened, you served eight years in prison and got drummed out of the Basin City police force. Now you're in a hell hole in New Jersey called Gotham. 

I'll try to forget about this guy. I won't succeed.