You're a US police officer, what are you thinking about going back to the East for?

Chapter 392 Christmas Eve

It was completely dark, and several hours had passed since Lyon went to the mall; it was now late at night.

Sterling's suburban villa was well-heated, and a huge fir tree, not yet fully decorated, stood in the center of the living room.

Chloe was standing on an aluminum A-frame ladder, hanging mistletoe from the ceiling chandelier.

She was dressed even more outrageously than usual today. She wore a white shirt that had been shortened and tied at the chest, and black hot pants that were so short they exposed her buttocks.

As she tiptoed, the hem of her hot pants cleaved tightly into her flesh, revealing the lower edge of her full, perky buttocks.

On her legs were a pair of sheer black stockings, and the absolute territory between the hot pants and the black stockings gleamed alluringly under the light.

However, Chloe didn't care at all about exposing herself, and her legs dangled in mid-air.

Sterling had just taken a shower and was wearing only a burgundy bathrobe with a deep V-neck, clearly revealing that he wasn't wearing anything underneath.

She held a glass of red wine, her bare feet on the wool carpet, frowning as she looked at the mess of cardboard boxes scattered all over the floor.

"Mia, can you explain why this string of lights has a 'Two Dollar Store Special' label printed on it?" Sterling kicked a cardboard box on the ground with his toe, his eyes full of disdain.

Mia, dressed in a loose T-shirt and gray shorts, lay sprawled on the carpet by the fireplace like a dead fish.

She held a stack of shopping receipts in her hand without even looking up.

"Because it's on sale, Chief." Mia rolled over and adjusted to a more comfortable position.

Walmart clearance sale: Buy two, get one free.

"Those fairy lights that sell for eighty dollars a string in the shop windows of wealthy neighborhoods come from the same factory as this thing."

"Why should I pay an extra seventy-eight dollars for a few words on the packaging? That's called an 'IQ tax'."

"Leon has at least several million dollars in cash right now, plus those warehouses full of black cars and guns, your ACU is rolling in money." Sterling took a sip of red wine and looked down at her.

"And you, his most trusted accounting secretary, are still agonizing over the few dozen yuan for buying colored lights."

"You were pestering me last month for that pitiful amount of overtime pay."

"Money is money." Mia folded the receipt, stuffed it into her pocket, and finally looked at Sterling with her deadpan eyes.

"No matter how much money Lyon has, a thousand dollars is a thousand dollars, and its purchasing power will not change depending on how much money is in its account."

"It pains me to see people carelessly throwing money into those overpriced items."

"Besides, overtime pay is the result of my hard work, earned by staying up late in front of the computer, so of course I should fight for it."

"Mia is right!" Chloe turned around on the ladder, holding up a bunch of red and green ribbons.

"Lyon's money should be saved for C4 and explosives! Wasting it on these useless light bulbs is an insult to art!"

As she turned around, the hem of her white shirt lifted up, revealing her flat stomach and the black lace panties peeking out from the edge of her hot pants.

Sterling stared speechlessly at the crazy girl on the ladder, rubbing his temples.

"Can you put your clothes on properly? Leon went to buy Christmas presents, not condoms. Who are you trying to impress with your horny act?" Sterling retorted without any politeness.

"I've already hung up the mistletoe. When the boss comes back, I'm going to unwrap his presents properly from under here." Chloe chuckled, her mind filled with lewd thoughts.

Mia listened to the two men's lewd jokes and yawned out of boredom.

"Take whatever you want." Mia rolled over and buried her face in the cushion.

"I spent four hours reviewing purchase invoices today, and my back is about to break."

"When he gets back, you can squeeze him dry all you want. I just want to sleep."

"You're just too tense, Mia." Chloe jumped down from the ladder and stepped barefoot onto the carpet.

"No wonder you always look like a dead fish when the boss is messing with you on the office desk."

"If you learn from me and take the initiative, the boss will definitely be more generous with the money."

Mia turned her head and glanced at Chloe, her dead fish eyes showing no emotion whatsoever.

"If you're so capable, then you do it, Chloe. My little body can't take his abuse."

Mia sighed.

"His physical condition is simply unreasonable. A few days ago, I watched him kick a reinforced security door down with my own eyes."

"If I had been more proactive, tomorrow's autopsy report would have stated the cause of death as: comminuted fracture of the pelvis."

Sterling, deeply agreeing with this, shifted his posture.

The hem of her silk robe slid down her thighs, revealing a large expanse of fair skin.

"That's true. Leon isn't a normal human being. For someone of our size to provoke him is no different than deliberately lying on the train tracks," Sterling chuckled.

"Honestly, with the two of you helping me out, I actually feel much more relaxed."

"Oh right, he really isn't like a normal person!" Chloe exclaimed, slapping her thigh as if she had found a kindred spirit.

"Last time I scratched several bloody marks on his back, but after ten minutes, there wasn't even a scar left!"

"I thought to myself, has this guy been modified by aliens, or is he some kind of biological weapon from a secret laboratory?"

The three women were playfully teasing each other in the living room, creating a surprisingly harmonious atmosphere.

In an ordinary family, a mayoral candidate, a fanatical female soldier, and a stingy secretary getting together to discuss the same man would have already started fighting.

Mia was too tired. She knew that no matter what Leon did outside, in the end the ledgers and documents would be with her, and Leon would always come back to her. So she was too lazy to fight for any title.

Sterling wanted security and didn't care how many women were around Lyon.

As for Chloe, she only asks when Lyon will take her to blow up the next building and have some outdoor sex next to the ruins.

"So, when exactly is the boss coming back?" Chloe leaned closer to Sterling and glanced at the wall clock.

"He went to South Union Lake to buy something, it's almost midnight."

"Given his driving skills, he should be there soon." Sterling placed the empty wine glass on the coffee table and leaned back lazily against the sofa.

"I guess they hesitated for too long, but the store is about to close anyway. No matter how much they hesitate, they should be on their way back now."

"Oh right, although he said he was going to the mall to buy gifts today, don't get your hopes up too high. With his emotional intelligence, he'll probably just buy two cases of instant coffee at most."

"I just hope he doesn't kill a few more clueless gangsters on the way back and come back covered in blood. I'm hungry, and all I want to do now is wait for that guy to come back so we can have a midnight snack," Mia sighed.

"What gift do you need? Just make him hand over the person." Chloe's eyes darted around, and she suddenly revealed a wicked grin. She moved between Sterling and Mia and pulled out a few small black boxes from a bag next to them.

Mia glanced at the box on the ground, and her eyes widened instantly.

Inside were a jumble of leather restraints, collars with bells and drawstrings, and several sets of barely-there, semi-transparent nurse and police uniforms.

"What do you take Lyon for? If you buy these things, he'll just tie you to the balcony railing and hang you there all night."

"Hiss—isn't that a bit too exciting?" Completely oblivious to the danger, Chloe walked behind Mia, suddenly reached out and hugged Mia's waist from behind, rested her chin on Mia's shoulder, and pressed her soft chest tightly against Mia's back.

"Mia, the boss always looks at you differently. Why don't you go first tonight, and I'll use this collar to assist you?"

"Get away, your stockings are snagging my clothes." Mia twisted her body expressionlessly, trying to break free, but there wasn't much real anger in her tone.

"When Leon comes back, go and try putting that collar around his neck yourself."

"That sounds like a good plan." Sterling leaned forward slightly.

The villa was warm and cozy, and the three women continued to chat casually.

None of them were bored enough to scroll through their phones, so naturally no one paid attention to the news notifications popping up on their screens, and no one knew that a shooting that nearly devastated the United States had just occurred in Washington, D.C.

Lyon quickly pushed open the heavy wooden door of the villa and led Eva in through the cold wind.

He stopped at the entrance and glanced across the living room.

Sterling was lounging on the sofa in a burgundy silk nightgown, Mia was sprawled on the carpet in shorts, and Chloe was wearing only black hot pants and black stockings that clung to her skin.

The room was full of sex toys and random Christmas ribbons.

"You guys haven't checked your phones yet?" Leon frowned as he took off his windbreaker.

Eva, meanwhile, silently shrank into the shadows behind.

The three women turned to look at Lyon at the same time.

Sterling paused, holding his wine glass; Mia lifted her deadpan eyes from the cushion; and Chloe swung her legs.

It's only been a few hours since the assassination of Te Lipu. They were just bickering inside over a few dozen dollars for buying colored lights, and discussing how to squeeze Leon dry. They didn't even bother to watch the news.

"Something big has happened outside." Leon walked down the steps, his voice low and serious.

"Trump was shot at a dinner in Washington and is now in the ICU."

"Vice President Vance has temporarily assumed the presidency in accordance with the Constitution, but he cannot win over the public, and the online public opinion has completely exploded."

"Democrats and Republicans have started marching in the streets, and the whole country is now in a state of readiness for civil war."

He walked to the coffee table and poured himself a glass of water.

"I just spoke with MacArthur again, and Seattle is probably one of the most stable cities in the United States right now."

"The streets of the East and West districts have been completely controlled by our veterans and homeless people; even a stray dog ​​causing trouble can be subdued."

"However, the situation in the North and South districts is still unclear. I originally planned to—"

Lyon was still calmly analyzing the situation, but the expressions of the three women in the room had changed.

When Sterling first heard that Tebbo had been assassinated, he was so shocked that he almost spilled his drink, and Mia sat up straight as well.

But the shock quickly dissipated as Lyon began a lengthy analysis of the situation on the streets and in various districts.

Mia slumped back onto the carpet, her eyelids drooping, reverting to her listless, languid state.

Sterling, holding his wine glass, rolled his eyes in an extremely inelegant manner, thinking that Lyon was simply wasting his bare-chested bathrobe.

Chloe frowned deeply, muttering a curse under her breath, thinking that her boss was really clueless about romance.

Lyon, however, was completely oblivious to all of this.

His current focus is entirely on how to deal with the upcoming civil war and potential external threats.

Eva, who was following behind Leon, was the first to notice that something was wrong in the room.

She glanced at the three scantily clad women, then at Leon who was still rambling on and on, and silently cursed him as an idiot in her mind.

She stretched out her finger and poked Lyon's lower back twice.

Lyon stopped talking and turned to look at her.

"Something's not right in the room," Eva whispered a warning.

Before Leon could even turn his head back, Mia had already gotten up from the carpet.

She walked barefoot on the wool mat, took a few steps to Lyon, grabbed his collar with both hands, and pulled him down forcefully.

Leon was forced to bend down, his face almost touching Mia's nose.

"Leon Vance." Mia's light gray eyes held a deep resentment.

"For the past few months, I've been either dealing with the Ministry of Internal Affairs for you or falsifying accounts for your homeless people."

"It's December, Christmas, and we've been messing around inside all day, practically naked, and you come running back in the middle of the night to talk to us about the American Civil War?"

"Trump's assassination and the potential for a civil war in the US, isn't that a big deal?" Lyon retorted.

"It's not a matter of how big or small the matter is." Mia released one hand, slipped it into Leon's collar, and pinched him with her fingertips.

She leaned close to Leon's ear, her warm breath brushing against his neck: "Even if the sky falls, it'll be tomorrow morning. Since you've managed Seattle so well, you'll have to pay your dues tonight."

As she spoke, Mia wrapped one of her legs around Leon's calf, her skin pressed tightly against his trouser leg.

Eva's eyes twitched as she looked at the debauched scene.

Knowing she was an outsider, she wisely chose to keep quiet and silently took a step back, preparing to retreat outside. However, she had only taken half a step when she bumped into someone on the back.

"Click".

A crisp metallic click rang out.

Eva froze. She looked down and saw a black leather lingerie collar with silver bells fastened around her neck.

Chloe had somehow slipped over and was now pressed against Eva's back, her hands reaching over Eva's shoulders as she grinned and wrapped the collar's drawstring around her wrists.

"What are you doing?" Eva asked in a low voice, reaching out to pull at the collar.

"Why did you decide to come back first, boss? Why didn't you check out the North and South districts first?" Chloe rested her chin on Eva's shoulder, her golden curly hair brushing against Eva's cheek.

"He did originally intend to go to the North and South districts again," Eva explained coldly, giving up on pulling on the collar.

"I told him to come back and take a look at you first before we talk."

"Well done!" Chloe nodded in satisfaction, then tugged at the rope in her hand, forcing Eva to lower her head, and Chloe pressed her shoulders down further.

"Since something big is about to happen in America, and even the president is about to be killed, why should we act all tense and like we're about to die?"

Chloe's eyes gleamed as she slipped a hand inside Eva's tactical pants, her fingertips gently lifting the edge of her belt.

"Don't you understand doomsday revelry? Live for the moment! Even if we really can't hold on any longer, we can just wait for this crappy country to completely collapse, then run away with the boss!"

Eva trembled as Chloe touched her, trying to dodge to the side, but Chloe held her waist tightly.

"Don't you understand, former Russian agent?" Chloe whispered in Eva's ear, her breath sweet as orchids.

"At a time like this, if you don't hurry up and get into the boss's bed, aren't you afraid he'll turn around and treat you like a useless pawn to be thrown away?"

Eva froze, momentarily losing her composure in the face of Chloe's madness.

While Eva was still in a daze, Chloe had already grabbed the collar's cord and dragged her toward the sofa in the center of the living room.

"Chief Sterling, your master bedroom bed is certainly big enough, isn't it?" Chloe said, pressing Eva onto the sofa while giving Sterling a flirty wink as he watched the scene unfold.

"Big enough," Sterling chuckled.

She put down her wine glass, stood up, and walked towards Leon, who was being entangled by Mia, her fingers lightly resting on Leon's belt buckle.

"You guys—" Leon took a deep breath, about to speak.

"Shut up, you're so annoying." Mia bit his chin.

On the other side, the clear sound of a bell came from the sofa.

The temperature inside the villa soared, while the snow-covered streets of Seattle presented a completely different picture.

At the intersection where the West and East districts meet, the streets are filled with the pungent smell of diesel exhaust and the acrid smell of tire friction.

MacArthur stood on the roof of the dump truck, which was covered with bulletproof steel plates and had an M249 machine gun mounted on its roof.

In the distance, the night sky over the South and North districts has been set ablaze.

Thick black smoke drifted in with the cold wind, and the sounds of shattering glass and chaotic gunfire could be faintly heard.

The entire United States was plunged into chaos, and the outskirts of Seattle had been completely turned into a battlefield.

But this core area, consisting of the East and West districts, presents a strange sense of order at this moment.

The intersection was completely blocked off by several buses and concrete blocks.

Ray and Walter, along with seventy or eighty fully armed veterans and vagrants, stood in a defensive line along the street, carrying rifles with their serial numbers worn off.

"Fascism is destroying democracy! We must take to the streets to protest political violence!"

Directly in front of the defensive line, dozens of young people waving rainbow flags and anti-fascist slogans mistook the veterans for rednecks taking advantage of the chaos and attempted to protest the breach of the checkpoint.

The leader was a college student with short, dyed blue hair. He was holding a megaphone and shouting Democratic Party rhetoric at the top of his lungs, trying to get the civilians behind him to join the march.

MacArthur stared blankly at the group below, tapping his fingers twice on the machine gun handguard on the roof of the vehicle.

"Clear the area."

Jarvis and Cole, two of the earliest construction workers to join the building of Lyon's homeless community, didn't even raise their guns; they simply strode forward carrying baseball bats.

The blue-haired college student had barely opened his mouth when Jarvis slammed the solid wood baseball bat in his hand into his chin.

The sound of teeth shattering was particularly clear in the cold wind. The college student rolled his eyes and fell to the ground, the horn smashed to pieces.

The marching crowd behind them suddenly erupted in shouts.

In the United States, marches and protests are so common that everyone has come to regard them as part of daily life, to the point that marches have lost their original political significance and become pure showmanship.

Therefore, no one expected that such a routine demonstration would be met with such violent suppression.

Someone tried to take out their phone to record, but Cole stepped forward and kicked the person over, smashing the screen with his baseball bat.

The veterans stormed into the sheepfold like wolves, raining down baseball bats and rifle butts.

Because the other side represented the Democratic Party, and before joining NG0, they were basically all rednecks, homeless veterans, and none of them held back.

In less than a minute, the group of Democratic Party sympathizers who were trying to guide the march were beaten to a pulp and fled in the direction they had come from, howling in pain.

"Damn! Well done!"

Next to the dump truck, Harvey, holding half a bottle of bourbon whiskey, shouted excitedly.

The acting mayor of Seattle now has his suit and tie ripped open, and several buttons on his shirt have popped off.

After the drinking sessions of the past two days, his taut nerves snapped, and he entered a state of madness, thinking, "To hell with whoever it is, idiots can just die."

Harvey grabbed the megaphone from the front of the dump truck and started cursing at the fleeing group.

"Go back to your South District and hold your protests! Are you blind? You want to see the mayor?! Don't you even know who's standing here?!"

"I'm Harvey Clement, the mayor of Seattle! Cause trouble on my turf, or I'll send your corpses down the drain!"

MacArthur jumped off the roof of the car and patted Harvey on the shoulder.

"Keep this up, Mr. Mayor. We need politicians with guts during wartime, and you're much better than before."

No sooner had he finished speaking than the roar of a high-powered V8 engine came from the other end of the street corner.

Five or six Ford F150 pickup trucks with raised chassis roared over and slammed on their brakes in front of the roadblock.

More than thirty burly red-necked men wearing flannel shirts and MAGA red hats jumped out of the car.

They were all carrying AR-15 automatic rifles, and the pickup truck bed was piled with boxes of ammunition.

"Where is that damn Democratic mayor?!" the redneck leader roared, gun in hand, his eyes bloodshot.

"They assassinated the president! We're going to hang all those Democratic scum on the lampposts!"

The veterans instantly pulled the trigger, and dozens of guns were aimed at the group of rednecks.

The atmosphere instantly plummeted to freezing point.

MacArthur pushed aside Walter, who was blocking his way, and strode toward the lead pickup truck.

He looked at the redneck holding the AR-15, the beer cap medal on his chest reflecting in the headlights.

"Put your guns down, soldier," MacArthur commanded.

The rednecks were stunned for a moment, overwhelmed by the oppressive aura emanating from the other party, which was that of a true high-ranking military officer.

What's more, some of these rednecks were veterans who instinctively obeyed their superiors' orders. Before they could even react, the muzzle of their guns had moved down half an inch.

"You want revenge? To defend the country?" MacArthur looked around at the angry truck drivers and electricians.

"Yes! We're going to burn down the entire Democratic stronghold in Seattle!" someone echoed from behind.

"Then you've come to the wrong position." MacArthur turned around and pointed to the night sky, which was ablaze with fire, in the direction of the South and North districts.

"That's where thugs and opportunistic scum party, and here—" He pointed to the street beneath his feet, then to the dump trucks and armed veterans behind him.

"This is a safe zone established by Director Sterling and Ray's charity."

"We are maintaining order and protecting residents."

"If you really want to shoot to protect America, join our reserves and come with me to turn those scum who try to break through the lines into sieves."

"If you don't want to, turn around now, go home and play your soldier game."

The rednecks looked at each other in bewilderment.

Deep down, they admired martial virtue and tough guys. Looking at the well-equipped and disciplined veterans in front of them, and then at the indifferent acting mayor, their anger was quickly replaced by the excitement of finding their organization.

"Are you really killing those thugs who buy things for free?" the redneck leader asked.

"Jarvis, tell him." MacArthur didn't even turn his head.

Jarvis walked over and kicked the blood-stained horn of the blue-haired college student under the tires of the pickup truck.

"We just broke the legs of a group of leftists who were trying to cause trouble. Once the defenses are secured, we're even preparing to liberate the residents of the North and South districts," Jarvis grinned.

The redneck slammed his fist on the pickup truck door and roared, "Damn it! Count us in! Brothers, park the truck, load up, and get ready to liberate the North and South from those damn Democratic bastards!"

More than thirty armed rednecks quickly joined the defensive line, further increasing its thickness.

In the shops and apartment buildings lining both sides of the street, many residents were hiding behind curtains, cautiously peering out.

"Old welder! Connect it!" MacArthur turned and ordered.

The old welder and several construction workers quickly unloaded four 70-inch large-screen TVs from the pickup truck, connected them directly to the diesel generator, and placed them at the four corners of the intersection.

The TV screen lit up, and the feed switched to live broadcasts from local Seattle news outlets Fox News and CNN.

The footage shows that Seattle’s South and North areas are completely out of control.

Masked rioters smashed luxury store windows, police cars were overturned and set on fire, several large supermarkets were subjected to a frenzy of zero-dollar purchases by hundreds of people, police lines collapsed, and ordinary citizens cried out in the streets.

The residents of the West and East districts, hiding behind their windows, watched the hellish scene on the screen, then looked down at the street below them, which, although full of armed burly men, was so quiet that even mice dared not pass by. The scales in their hearts instantly tipped.

Harvey, holding a megaphone, let out a burp and walked in front of the screen.

"Look closely, citizens of Seattle!" Harvey's fanatical voice echoed through the streets.

"The whole country is going crazy! Your government is paralyzed! Who's protecting you? Are they those politicians who just talk big on TV? No!"

Harvey pointed to MacArthur and the veterans behind him.

"It's Chief Sterling! Officer Lyon from ACU! And Ray's community support group! They're the ones who used bullets and fists to keep those thugs out of your neighborhood!"

Harvey became more and more excited as he shouted, discovering that speaking the truth felt a million times better than reading from a bureaucratic script.

"Tonight, no matter how badly it burns outside, the West and East districts will be absolutely safe! Because we have real force!"

"All you need to do is stay home and pray for Chief Sterling!"

Scattered applause began to come from the cracks in the upstairs windows, and then the applause grew more and more frequent.

Several convenience store owners even dared to open their doors, carrying hot coffee and hot dogs to the front line, handing them to the veterans on guard and the newly joined rednecks.

MacArthur watched all this, walked over to the dump truck, and lit a cigarette.

He didn't know how long the riots in the United States would last, but it was a good thing for people like him who wanted to change America.

With time running out and the mission pressing, tonight they must seize control of the North and South districts, and if the opportunity arises, even launch an attack on Seattle.

I wonder how the American Communist Party is doing in Portland now.

Their planned contact with Lyon was on Christmas Day, but today the riots started in the United States.

I don't know if the contact plan can proceed smoothly, nor do I know what the US Communist Party intends to do.

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