North American riot police: Start by arresting P. Diddy!

Chapter 198 The High Table Elder

While Luo Xia was in a remote island prison reminiscing with the director about their glorious past and boasting about the amazing operations they had carried out on the battlefield, the outside world was also in turmoil because of these two.

Washington, D.C., Justice House.

Jack was leading a group of his men out of the building in a flurry of activity.

Except when he's with his daughter, this counter-terrorism bureau chief always presents a decisive and efficient demeanor in public, as if he always has endless tasks waiting for him.

"Jack, wait a minute."

Jack, who was about to open the car door, turned around at the sound and his expression changed slightly when he saw who it was.

"So it's Speaker Underwood."

Jack smiled and asked, "What brings the Speaker to the Department of Justice? I've heard that these past few days, there have been almost daily arguments and even physical altercations between members of Congress over the Healthcare Reform Act."

"Sigh, let's not talk about these troublesome things."

Underwood waved his hand helplessly, "It's because I felt too stifled in Congress that I came to the Department of Justice to chat with Holder and clear my head."

"I see."

Jack nodded politely in farewell and prepared to leave.

He didn't have a close relationship with this former party whip, but he had heard from the Attorney General that the new speaker was a ruthless character who would stop at nothing to achieve his goals and whose abilities far surpassed those of Perari.

However, the proper respect should still be shown, after all, the other party is a powerful figure in the federal government and has no prior conflict with him.

However, Underwood suddenly leaned closer and lowered his voice, saying, "Wait, Jack, I have something private I want to discuss with you."

"Oh? The Speaker has something to hand over to the Counterterrorism Bureau?" Jack asked, slightly surprised.

"No, no, it has nothing to do with CTU, it's purely a private matter."

Underwood smiled and explained, “As you know, I’ve just taken over as Speaker, and many key positions in the Capitol are held by my predecessors. So I’d like to recruit a few highly capable new staff. I’ve heard that your daughter has been gaining experience in police departments across the country since graduating from police academy, and she’s very experienced and capable. If it’s convenient, why not have Ginny work at the Capitol? After all, she’s your daughter, Jack Bauer’s daughter, and I have absolute confidence in her abilities and loyalty.”

Jack's eyes flickered slightly as he gazed intently at the man before him, and he asked softly, "What's your position?"

"Security Compliance Specialist".

Underwood explained, "While this position doesn't require fieldwork, it does require law enforcement experience and a policing background, and I don't think anyone is more suitable than Ginny."

Jack nodded and said seriously, "I understand. It's kind of you, Speaker, to still remember my daughter. I'll pass on the message to Ginny when I have time."

"Hey, don't be so formal, Jack. Just call me Frank from now on."

Underwood patted Jack on the shoulder warmly and said sincerely, "Although we haven't had much contact before, I've been following you since your time at the FBI. There aren't many truly capable people in federal law enforcement these days, but you're definitely one of them. If you encounter any problems in the future, feel free to come to me if I can help."

Jack nodded solemnly, acknowledging the favor.

The two exchanged pleasantries about the recent developments in the council before parting ways.

At the foot of the steps of the Justice Building, Underwood watched the Counterterrorism Bureau convoy drive away, a satisfied smile on his face.

Jack's identity is unique among all federal law enforcement agencies.

This was not only due to the privileges of the Counterterrorism Bureau, but also because of his extraordinary resume. Whether in the military, the FBI, or the Department of Justice, he had a large number of trusted confidants whom he had personally cultivated.

In other words, even with a change of Attorney General and Jack losing his backer, he can still remain in power based on his connections and abilities.

Regardless of who the new minister or president is, anyone who wants to completely control all law enforcement agencies cannot bypass him, which is precisely why Underwood took the initiative to curry favor.

The position of Congressional Security Compliance Commissioner may seem ordinary, but in reality, the requirements are extremely high.

Not only do their salaries far exceed those of their peers, but most commissioners are promoted to advisors to the Homeland Security Council after serving for more than a decade.

He knew this tough guy's weakness, and offering him a lucrative position to win over the head of the counter-terrorism bureau was definitely worth it.

The speaker's arrival was naturally preordained.

Soon, Underwood met the real target of his trip—the current Attorney General, Mr. Holder.

In the office, after his assistant brought him coffee and left, Holder smiled at the man in front of him: "How's it going, Speaker of the House? I haven't seen you at the club for days. Are you so busy that you don't even have time to play golf?"

Underwood chuckled wryly, “Sigh, if I had known that being Speaker would involve dealing with so much mess, I really shouldn’t have taken on this chore. You know, during yesterday’s meeting, a few members got into a heated argument and almost came to blows. They were practically about to have a full-blown brawl in the chamber.”

"Haha, that's how the House of Representatives is, the Senate is a bit better. But they only make a big fuss during internal meetings, they all act very proper during formal congressional sessions."

Holder laughed and agreed, but he didn't take Underwood's complaints seriously at all.

He knew this man's abilities all too well. Having served as the party whip for decades and safeguarded the party's interests, how could he possibly be unable to handle matters in the parliament?
This is clearly just a pose.

"Speaking of which, this is your first time visiting the Department of Justice since becoming Speaker. You can't just be here to catch up, can you?" Holder asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

Underwood didn't answer immediately. Instead, he sighed and said with a serious expression, "Do you remember the murder of the former police chief in New York a few days ago, Holder?"

Holder frowned and nodded: "Is it that Chief Pete Griffin? The Criminal Investigation Department reported that he killed an immigrant father and daughter during a verbal altercation."

"That's right, it's that poor Chief Griffin."

Underwood said gravely, “Holder, there are some things you may not know. This veteran police officer, who has dedicated decades to the country, didn’t actually kill anyone; he was framed.”

Holder didn't press for details, but instead asked with a puzzled look, "Since when did you, the Speaker, start caring about murder cases?"

“From the moment I discovered this whole thing was a conspiracy!” Underwood suddenly raised his voice, took a document from his briefcase, and slammed it on the table.

“In a case involving the murder of a public official, no matter how conclusive the evidence, even if the suspect confesses in court, it is impossible to complete the entire process from evidence collection to trial to sentencing within two days. Yet our Mr. Griffin ‘enjoyed’ this kind of ‘efficiency.’ What’s even more frightening is that what drove all of this was not judicial fairness, but some dark hand hiding in the shadows.”

His fingers tapped heavily on an address that appeared repeatedly on the document—Harry S. Truman Building.

Upon seeing this address, Holder's expression immediately turned serious.

He carefully reviewed the case documents and discovered that the court had received multiple official letters from the Truman Building, ordering them to expedite the case and close it within a specified timeframe.

This building is the headquarters of the State Department, headed by the current Secretary of State, George H.W. Bush.

Holder's face was grim.

Although the boundaries of the separation of powers have become somewhat blurred, the Secretary of State’s blatant interference in the judiciary, and even his direct issuance of orders, has offended the Attorney General.

"Cases with minimal impact are usually handled by the Criminal Investigation Department, so..."

“I understand, buddy. I have absolute trust in your integrity, which is why I brought these documents to you.”

Underwood spoke sincerely, “It’s just that this Mr. Griffin dedicated his life to the country, but ended up being framed and imprisoned, which is truly disheartening.”

Holder did not respond, and continued to review the various records on the document.

After reading it, he looked up at Underwood and frowned, saying, "Frank, although there are indeed problems with the trial procedure, the existing evidence shows that Griffin is the murderer. From the perspective of procedural justice, although there are flaws, the result is correct."

Underwood smiled slightly and took out an even thicker document from his briefcase. This document not only contained paper materials but also surveillance footage and travel logs, clearly documenting Griffin's activities in New York and his trip to Florida.

The crucial evidence, which had already been destroyed, is now fully presented, providing ample proof of the bureau chief's alibi.

These were all sent anonymously yesterday, and of course, Underwood knew perfectly well who the sender was.

Although the terrorist was ruthless, he was also very sentimental. Luo Xia went to great lengths for the old director who had once looked after him.

Upon seeing this new evidence, Holder's expression finally changed.

He looked again at the smiling Underwood and sighed helplessly.

He understood that he was inevitably going to be drawn into the power struggle between the Speaker and the Secretary of State.

But Holder didn't object. As Attorney General, he was equally indignant about Joe's overstepping of boundaries!
Since when did the Secretary of State begin to boss the Justice Department around?!
"Thanks to you, Frank, it looks like I'll have to work overtime tonight."

"Haha, that's perfect, I didn't have any plans either."

----------

End Island.

Compared to when they first entered prison, Rorschach and Chief Griffin have been living an extremely comfortable life these past few days.

Not only do they eat far beyond the highest standards for ordinary prisoners, but they can also sing karaoke, smoke cigars, drink whiskey, and even call prostitutes whenever they want.

Of course, neither Luo Xia nor the director thought much of these women who had been abused by the prisoners, and they still went back to their cells to rest every night.

But here, greater privilege means greater risk.

Hennessy's willingness to provide lavish services to race car drivers is not out of kindness, but rather because she expects them to risk their lives on the live stream to earn her more gambling money.

In the center of the prison's racetrack, practice cars still roared and sped along.

Meanwhile, at the edge of the track, in a repair shop that resembled a mechanical palace, Rorschach was casually strolling around, fiddling with a wrench.

He would occasionally stop to examine the precision parts, as if he were strolling through his own backyard.

When the surrounding prisoners saw him, they all showed obsequious smiles, and no one dared to speak rudely as before.

Yes, Rorschach no longer hides his identity.

Hennessy, for reasons unknown, did not make any deliberate attempt to conceal it.

After all, this is an isolated island, and satellite communication equipment is only available in the warden's office. Furthermore, with the Death Race livestream tomorrow, given the island's geographical advantage and Hennessy's capabilities, blocking the news for two days is not difficult at all.

Amidst the prisoners' awe-inspiring gazes, Rorschach approached a bald man lying under a car, tightening screws.

"Dominic Toledo, want to talk?"

The man under the car turned his head and looked over. When he saw Luo Xia, his brows furrowed and he said in a muffled voice, "I don't think there's anything to talk about with a terrorist."

"Really? That's interesting."

Rorschach looked at him with amusement. "I've seen your file with the Chicago Police Department. A boss who controlled hundreds of biker gangs in Los Angeles, illegally racing across the country, even setting up racetracks in downtown areas. How many innocent citizens have you killed? You think you're so noble?"

"I have never hurt an ordinary person."

Dom (Dominic) smirked, flashing his signature arrogant smile: "Those accidents weren't caused by me. My car will never go out of control. Unlike you, who enjoys disrupting order."

"Fuck you. Do you know how fucking annoying your smile is?"

Luo Xia shook his head speechlessly, then said directly, "I'm participating in the competition tomorrow too. Get me a modified car. The requirements are simple: a large interior space, bulletproof steel plates in the front and rear, and a large sunroof. I like to drive standing up."

"."

Dom didn't react for a moment.

He wasn't surprised that Rorschach would participate. Given Hennessy's greedy nature, it would be abnormal if he didn't force such a top-tier wanted criminal to participate to boost ratings.

He just didn't understand why Luo Xia had approached him, and wasn't his cold attitude just now enough to clearly refuse him?

But before he could even refuse, Rorschach, looking down at him condescendingly, turned and left, as if he had him completely under his control:
"Get the car ready by tomorrow. If I'm in a good mood, I'll take you out to meet your sister."

".Shit!"

Meanwhile, in the warden's office, Hennessy was on the phone with a powerful figure.

Her attitude was extremely respectful because the other party was the biggest sponsor of the Death Race, who would spend a fortune almost every time the betting opened.

Especially with Rorschach Butcher participating this time, she couldn't even imagine how much he would bet.

As she expected, things turned out just as she predicted.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone when they heard that the new player was Rorschach Butcher.

"Are you sure Rorschach is in your prison?"

"Absolutely true. He sneaked in to protect a prisoner, but I've got him under control, and he'll definitely be competing tomorrow."

"control."

A playful laugh came from the other end of the phone.

The other party then stated decisively, "One hundred million US dollars, I bet Rorschach will win the championship."

"One hundred million?!" Hennessy suppressed his elation and cautiously reminded, "Elder, I must point out that, from my observation, Luo Xia's driving skills do not seem to be outstanding."

"Driving skills?" A meaningful laugh came from the other end of the phone. "I'm not looking for driving skills! The funds will arrive in half an hour, get ready to collect the money."

Meanwhile, in a luxurious palace in a desert oasis in the Middle East.

The middle-aged man in the white robe put down the satellite phone, and the attendant immediately and respectfully took it.

He gazed at the setting sun on the horizon, a slight smile playing on his lips: "Hennessy just said she's got Rorschach under control and has put him on the track for tomorrow's Death Race."

The servant smiled in agreement and remained silent.

"Looks like this warden's days are numbered." The man swirled the crystal glass in his hand. "What a waste of a good entertainment. Rorschach Butcher."

He pondered the name repeatedly, then suddenly stood up: "Prepare the private jet, I'm going to North America."

"Your Majesty," the attendant hesitated, as if he wanted to say something but then stopped.

“I will explain to my father myself.”

The elder walked to the terrace, letting the setting sun gild the edges of his white robe, his gaze intense: "It's time to meet this...terrorist."

(End of this chapter)