This is the transcript for Day 2 of the game. Some portions of the transcript may differ slightly from what is spoken in-game. Mouse over such parts to read what is spoken in-game.
Jack enters the cafeteria of Freeburg Police Station. It's completely deserted, except for one person.
Jack (Aside): Cops don't use the police station cafeteria any more. There's some kind of stigma against sitting shoulder to shoulder with your partners. Everybody just takes snacks from the machines, or grabs a meal and hammers it down in the corner like a vulture on a corpse. The main thing - don't look into anyone's eyes. Could be construed as an invitation to sit together. The only people eating here are ghosts.
Jack slowly approaches said Francis Kendrick.
Jack (Aside): My deputy, Francis Kendrick. He recently became one of those ghosts. The subject of one of the most devastating corruption scandals in the history of Freeburg. No evidence to support the accusations, but everyone knows Kendrick's days are numbered.
Jack: I need that file I asked for. Needs to be ready tonight.
Jack (Aside): Francis didn't say anything, but I understood - ghosts aren't supposed to talk. Besides, I got a feeling he was already finished.
Jack then leaves the cafeteria again.
Jack enters Francis Kendrick's office to collect the file he asked for.
Jack (Aside): Used to be, when I asked Kendrick to stay late at the office, he liked to grumble and crack wise. Nowadays he doesn't have the strength for it. Slumped shoulders, blank stare, wrinkled skin. The past few weeks - I don't hardly recognize my old friend. In his younger years he reminded me of a gallant royal officer in an old Kipling story. Kendrick isn't just crumbling under the weight of the public pressure, but from the shame of it all. Internal affairs raided the library he inherited from his grandfather - hoping they'd find buckets of cash stashed in the pages. Heard about the look on his face: the fearless policeman standing helpless in horror. I've known Francis for 30 years. The past 20 years he's played loose with the law. And I know that at a certain point, every stolen dollar brings more misery than anything else. Probably sounds crazy, but I sympathize with the guy. What can I do? Your friends are your friends, and these are the waters we swim in.
Jack approaches Kendrick's desk and picks a file up off of it, then opens it up to read.
Kendrick: Called all of the people on that list today. Now they know you're in business, so you could get a call from any of them. Don't need to worry about any of them; I've cleared them all.
Jack: And what kind of business are we talking here?
Kendrick: It's nothing too serious, just like you asked. Should be just a few small favors. Payments will vary, depending on the situation and who you're dealing with. How much are you looking to earn?
Jack: Half a million.
Kendrick: Half a million? Why not a whole million?
Jack: Because everybody wants to make a million. Figured I'd try something different.
Kendrick: Half a million in 180 days? Well, you could earn it all above board, if you netted all the big fish and hit all your bonuses.
Jack: Never knew you for a fisherman.
Kendrick: Well, you never got into my business, and I'm not trying to get into yours. But be careful about bringing in any other cops. Sooner or later they'll put the finger on you. And one more thing, Jack. I remember what you said, but I should probably add one more name to that list. Christopher Sand.
Jack takes a moment to think about that name in his head.
Jack (Aside): Christopher G. Sand. Everyone knows the name, but few could tell you who he is. The old man stays away from the spotlight. Always wears old-fashioned jeans and knitted sweaters, gives to charity, rarely attends social events. An avid hunter I hear, even dabbles in poetry. You'd never guess he's the head of the oldest and most powerful gang in the city. Goes back as far as his great-grandfather, and Sand is strict about following the old rules. He rarely involves himself in commonplace murders and robberies. Hardly needs to intimidate anyone to get his point across. The people who work for him each have their sphere. They provide protection when needed, even work with the authorities when they want to make a deal. Meanwhile, Sand pulls the strings without getting his hands dirty. People sometimes mistake his quiet approach. A couple years ago, an arms dealer decided to expand its business without asking permission, and his whole family paid the price. In four weeks, Sand killed 31 people: old men, women, even a few teenagers. And Sand's people made sure every paper reported it.
Jack finishes musing on the name in his head and decides against getting Sand involved.
Jack: Frank, I don't want to hear you say that name again.
Kendrick: Jack, please, listen to me. I'm in with these guys...
Jack: We agreed, Frank! That's not the kind of business I'm into! I don't go there, never have, never will!
Jack takes the file and promptly leaves while Kendrick cleans his glasses.