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

Chapter 103 Driver

"Boss!"

The sharp-eyed Carlos was the first to spot Leon, who was standing at the door, sighing and rubbing his forehead.

"How's my outfit? Doesn't it give off a Miami Heat vibe?"

This guy was wearing an extremely flashy bright purple shirt, with a white suit jacket over it. The collar was plunging to his chest, revealing a gleaming gold cross necklace underneath. He looked exactly like a pimp who had just come out of a nightclub.

The burly men who had been struggling with buttons, ties, and shrunken fabric stopped what they were doing and all turned to look at them.

Seeing Lyon's well-tailored, obviously expensive dark gray casual suit, and comparing it to their own tight-fitting clothes, these rough men revealed undisguised envy in their eyes.

"Boss! It has to be you!"

Jacob was the first to chime in, his arm still in a sling, but he couldn't contain his excitement: "I heard tonight it's a place only big shots can go to? Unlimited champagne and that thing—what's it called again? Those dark, fishy balls?"

"That's caviar, Jacob."

Lyon corrected him somewhat speechlessly, looking at his subordinates who were acting like elementary school students going on a school field trip, and shook his head helplessly: "I'm taking you because it's what you deserve."

"But that's a charity dinner, not a buffet. Although it's all-you-can-eat, you'd better watch your table manners."

""

"Don't act like a starving ghost reincarnated; that would be a disgrace to our AcU."

"Don't worry, boss! We understand!"

The guy nicknamed Bulldozer, clutching his collar which seemed about to burst open, grinned, revealing a set of white teeth: "We're just going to broaden our horizons. I heard the toilets in those places are gold-plated? I want to try it out."

"And those girls in evening gowns—hehe."

"I just want to know if they have free cigars, the Cuban kind."

These guys have some really unique interests.

Just as things were getting chaotic, the office door was pried open with some difficulty.

"Make way—make way! Don't block the road!"

A slightly panting voice came from the doorway.

That's Raymond Garcia.

The slightly overweight administrative police inspector was carrying a tall stack of black dust bags, with a long, hard, black gun case placed incongruously on top.

The pile of things was taller than his head, forcing him to crane his neck and turn sideways like a crab to see where he was going. He also had to be careful not to let the gun case slide down and hit his feet, which looked extremely comical.

As soon as he entered the room, his expression froze when he saw the group of monsters and freaks, especially the bulldozer in the shrunken suit who looked like a freak in a tight-fitting bodysuit. He even considered throwing down what he was holding and running away.

"God—thankfully the director had foresight."

Raymond groaned in pain and threw the stack of clothes onto the nearest table with a dull thud.

"I knew these cavemen who only know how to shoot wouldn't even know how to dress!"

"These are all high-end suits that the bureau confiscated before or prepared for undercover operations. I picked out the largest size for them. Quickly strip off those cheap or shrunken suits you're wearing!"

"Wow! New clothes!"

"I want the black one!"

"Don't grab it! That's my size!"

'

Upon hearing that there were free new clothes, the ACU gang of thugs cheered and swarmed forward like a pack of hungry wolves, grabbing the clothes in a chaotic frenzy.

Before Raymond could catch his breath, he was spun around like a top by the horde of muscular men who rushed at him. Finally, Jacob's shoulder brushed against him, and he almost flew out and crashed into the wall.

With great difficulty, he managed to protect the most crucial gun case, his clothes disheveled, as he crawled out of the crowd and awkwardly approached Leon.

"Vans, can you please control these lunatics? I feel like I'm delivering school uniforms to a kindergarten."

Raymond complained, handing the heavy black gun case he was carrying to Leon.

Here, that's what you wanted.

"You'll get used to it; they're just more enthusiastic."

Lyon took the gun case and gently stroked the cold, engineered plastic casing with his fingers.

M24.

His old friend, which he had redeemed for 800 points, has finally returned.

"Have all the formalities been completed?" Lyon asked.

"They're all aligned, even more aligned than your teeth."

Raymond wiped the sweat from his brow. "This gun is now legal property of the police department, specifically assigned to ACU team leader Leon Vance."

"From now on, even if you carry it with you to the supermarket, those people in the Internal Affairs Department can only stare blankly, unable to find a single fault with it."

"Well done, Garcia."

Leon patted Raymond on the shoulder and asked with a smile, "Thanks, are you here to pick us up?"

"Me? Don't be ridiculous."

Raymond waved his hands repeatedly, looking resistant: "I wouldn't dare ride in the same car as these guys, I'm afraid my high blood pressure will flare up. Besides, I have a ton of forms to fill out, so I'm not going to join in the fun."

He lowered his voice, his expression becoming slightly more serious, and gestured downstairs with his chin: "Also, the car is already waiting downstairs."

"The driver was specially arranged by Chief Sterling."

"That driver—was a Black man named George."

"Please be polite when you get on the bus."

"He used to drive for Director Sterling's father—the old union chairman—and also worked as his bodyguard."

"Although he's only officially a driver, some of the senior police officers in the bureau have to offer him cigarettes when they see him."

Raymond winked at Leon: "If you have any questions, just ask the driver. He knows everything: what to do, where to go, and when to enter."

Do you understand what I mean?

Lyon understood immediately. "Thanks, Garcia."

"Come on, if you cause me less trouble, I can live two more years."

A few minutes later, in the underground parking garage of the West Precinct.

The ACU group, amidst much bickering, changed into what could barely be considered decent outfits and shoved each other as they stepped out of the elevator.

Raymond wasn't fooling them; a black, extended Lincoln Navigator was quietly parked in the parking space, its body gleaming.

These country bumpkins from ACU had never ridden in such a luxury executive car, the kind only big bosses and mayors ride in, and they immediately became as excited as a bunch of apes.

"Wow! Look at this amazing treasure!"

Carlos whistled loudly, and the bulldozer even went up to touch the pure black air intake grille.

However, just as they were making a ruckus and getting ready to open the car door...

A figure standing next to the driver's side door turned his head slightly and frowned.

He was an old black man.

He was dressed in an extremely sophisticated black bespoke suit, and looked to be close to sixty years old. His white shirt collar was crisp, and he wore a pair of black leather gloves.

His physique wasn't as exaggerated as Jacob's, who was like an iron tower; he was even slightly hunched over, but the muscle lines under his suit still gave the illusion of being as hard as a rock.

What's most unsettling is his gaze.

The whites of his eyes were slightly yellowish, and his gaze was lifeless and cold, lacking even the slightest trace of the kindness that comes with old age.

He didn't even say a word, but just coldly swept his dead fish eyes over the ACU group.

Just one glance.

Jacob, Carlos, and the others, who had been laughing and joking, instantly fell silent and huddled obediently to one side.

These guys are tough special forces soldiers with at least a few lives on their hands, but they all toned down their arrogance in front of this old man.