Two years ago, on a dark and quiet empty New York street, two Nypd detectives approached a neighborhood bar and were gunned down by unknown assailants. The shooting was a set-up arranged by two dirty Vice cops. One officer died. The other survived. His name was Abe Goldman and that night he had two very good things in his corner: Luck, and his best friend. Matt Murphy. Before Goldman left the hospital, Murphy had succeeded in bringing those behind the shooting down. All except one.
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