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

After going down one floor, I arrived at the orthopedic ward.

Unlike the two loud, yelling idiots upstairs, the corridor here was quiet and somewhat oppressive, filled with the heavy smell of plaster and disinfectant.

Push open the door to the private hospital room.

Carlos's left leg was suspended high on the traction frame, and he was resting with his eyes closed.

Hearing the door open, he opened his eyes abruptly and saw that it was Leon who walked in. He instinctively shrank back towards the headboard.

He was no longer the shrewd old fox he used to be; his eyes revealed extreme awe and a hint of barely concealed panic.

Lyon locked the door behind him, pulled up a chair and sat down on the bed. Without any unnecessary formalities, he got straight to the point.

"A day has passed. So, what's the feedback from the Mexicans?"

Carlos swallowed hard and quickly lowered his voice to report:

"Boss, my upline... contacted me this morning."

While observing Leon's expression, Carlos cautiously continued:

"She was very happy on the phone and even praised me."

"She believes that the intelligence I released worked, successfully using you to cleanly and efficiently eliminate Marcus. She said I did a fantastic job."

"Anything else?" Leon asked expressionlessly.

"My supervisor contacted me to confirm the current casualty situation in ACU."

Carlos dared not hide anything and spilled everything out:

"According to the Mexicans, anti-materiel sniper rifles and C4 explosives were used at the unfinished building site, and the building collapsed."

"They were certain that ACU suffered heavy casualties."

"They think that as the team leader, you've already done your best by making such a big fuss and taking down Marcus last night."

"Today you'll definitely be pinned down in an interrogation chair by the Ministry of Internal Affairs and subjected to a frantic search of your water meter. You'll also have to write a mountain of reports on shootings and explosions. You'll be completely overwhelmed."

"So she asked me to use my position as the head of informants to spread some false information within ACU."

Carlos explained:

"She wants to make sure that ACU absolutely does not set foot in the West Side gang territory for the next few days. They need the police to be completely blind in this area for a few days."

Lyon raised an eyebrow slightly upon hearing this.

Mexicans actually thought that ACU was crippled and needed to recuperate.

Okay, that's true.

However, the claim that he was overwhelmed by the Ministry of Internal Affairs' investigation was completely unfounded.

What else could be the reason that these drug lords don't want the police to get involved?

It's simply that Marcus just died, leaving the Bloods leaderless. They're planning to take advantage of this power vacuum to install one of their own or a compliant puppet in power and completely take control of the West District branch.

What the hell is this to someone like me who has a system?

Isn't this just a packaged-up justice points ATM?!

Normally, when arresting gang leaders of this caliber on the street, you have to search through trash cans one by one for clues.

Now, they're planning to hold a big meeting all by themselves.

Lyon interlaced his fingers, stared at Carlos, and immediately issued a reply command.

"Reply to your superior immediately."

Leon leaned forward slightly: "Just tell her exactly what you said: ACU is indeed completely paralyzed. More than half of the officers below the deputy team leader have been killed or wounded."

"Team leader Leon Vance had his service weapon and badge confiscated by the Department of Internal Affairs early this morning and is currently under indefinite closed investigation."

"Tell her that for at least the next three nights, not a single ACU plainclothes car will be on the streets of the West Side. You can go ahead and do it."

Carlos was completely stunned when he heard Leon tell him to reply in this way.

Holy crap?

What is the boss trying to do?

Are we really going to cooperate with the Mexicans and let those gangs fight each other wildly in the streets for territory?

But when Carlos looked up and met Lyon's emotionless, steel-gray eyes, he suddenly shivered.

A sudden thought flashed through Carlos's mind, and he instantly realized what was going on.

The boss is playing the long game, planning to take advantage of the gang's fierce fighting and wipe them out with heavy firepower!

Carlos was so startled by his own crazy conjecture that he swallowed hard and nodded repeatedly:

"Yes, yes, boss! I'll send it right away!"

Lyon stood up and patted Carlos on the shoulder twice.

"Take good care of your injury and continue to play your role as an informant."

After saying that, Lyon turned and walked towards the ward door, pulling open the doorknob.

Although the ACU is currently missing its two main members, Bulldozer and Jacob, and several injured team members who are recovering, it is severely short-handed. However, there are too many things to deal with recently, so he still needs to hurry back to the police station to keep an eye on things and prevent any problems from arising at this time.

……

noon.

On the outskirts of Seattle, in a private room of an underground bar that usually frequented by police officers, now closed for the day.

The room's exhaust fan was broken, and the strong smell of cigars mixed with the sour odor of fermenting beer made the air feel unusually oppressive.

David, the head of the internal affairs department, pushed open the poorly soundproofed wooden door of the private room and was the last to enter.

Seven or eight local corrupt police leaders from the West District Police Station were already seated around the long wooden table on both sides.

Sergeant Williams, the patrol officer who had previously had Fat Z snatched away by Leon at the nightclub entrance, was sitting on the outermost side.

Beside him stood the usually bloated and smug Inspector Connor, and several district commanders who wielded real power.

These corrupt police leaders, who usually act arrogantly and demand bribes on the streets, are now as anxious as ants on a hot pan.

Their eyes were lifeless, their eye bags were swollen like walnuts, and their dark circles were so heavy they looked like a group of zombies that had just crawled out of their graves, as if their whole family had just died.

Supervisor David pulled out the chair in the head seat and sat down.

Looking at his subordinates, who were usually arrogant but now all looked like they had lost their fathers, he was so angry that he laughed.

"Heh...hehehaha..."

David rubbed his throbbing temples while letting out a ridiculous, dry laugh.

He had only one thought in his mind: What the hell did I do in my past life to be tied to this bunch of idiots?

"David! How can you still laugh?!"

Williams was the first to lose his temper. He slammed his hand hard on the sticky wooden table, making the empty wine glasses clink and rattle.

"Even that unfinished building incident happened two whole days ago! What on earth is the Internal Affairs Department doing?!"

Williams, his eyes red and spittle flying, complained:

"Why haven't they sent anyone to arrest that mad dog, Leon Vance?!"

"He used dozens of kilograms of C4 in the unfinished building! He blew the whole building up! That was a serious violation of regulations regarding the use of high-yield explosives; it was outright murder!"

Upon hearing such a idiotic remark, the smile on Manager David's face vanished instantly.

He suddenly grabbed an empty wine glass from the table and slammed it hard onto the table in front of Williams.

"Bang!"

The glass shattered instantly, startling Williams so much that he jerked his neck back.

"Can't you even use your pig brain, which's stuffed with frosting and donuts, and think about this properly?!"

David pointed at Williams's nose, launched into a tirade, and posed a series of probing questions:

"Investigate?! You're putting pressure on the Ministry of Internal Affairs?! Tell me, how is the Ministry of Internal Affairs supposed to investigate?! Under what pretext?!"

"Dozens of kilograms of military-grade C4! Tell me, how did an undercover policeman in a regular civilian car manage to get so much high explosives to the scene?!"

"Did he stuff it in his crotch beforehand and smuggle it there?! Or was he carrying a bomb on his back and running wildly through the streets?!"

David grew increasingly angry as he spoke, and his spittle sprayed all over Williams' face:

"I personally checked the armory's paper ledgers and electronic inventory records this morning!"

"Besides the directional breaching patches that were normally allocated to that female engineer Chloe, the armory didn't lack even a single gram of gunpowder!"

"How am I supposed to write an investigation report? You want me to go to court and tell that bald old judge with a wig that this policeman can do magic and conjure up dozens of kilograms of explosives out of thin air to blow up the building?"

"The judge will just treat me like I'm mentally ill and send me to a mental hospital!"

The private room was deathly silent.

The other corrupt police leaders were rendered speechless by David's outburst and looked at each other in bewilderment.

After an awkward silence.

The police inspector sitting next to him, Connor, the same inspector who had previously taken a cut from the 12th Street Boys Club nightclub, wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and weakly spoke:

"David... even if the source of the explosives can't be traced, what about that fat guy Z from before?"

Connor swallowed hard, his voice trembling:

"That fat bastard is still in Vance's hands. He's got my hands on the 12th Street's dirty money records and bribery records!"

"Chief Sterling has had that interrogation recording for some time now! Why hasn't she handed us over to the prosecutors yet?"

"Having this knife hanging over my neck every day is pure psychological torture! I haven't dared to sleep lately; every time I close my eyes, I see your internal affairs department kicking down my door!"

Upon hearing this, Manager David slumped back in his chair, feeling utterly defeated.

He scanned the corrupt cops on both sides of the table with the look one would give a pure idiot.

"Because that woman, Sterling, is a million times smarter than you think."

David loosened his tie, explaining the political calculations involved:

"Arrest you? Send half the sheriffs and inspectors of the Western Precinct to federal prison?"

"The West District Police Station will be completely paralyzed tomorrow! They won't even have enough people to connect to 911! What good will that do her mayoral campaign?"

David sneered:

"She never intended to hand over that recording and Fatty Z to the District Attorney's Office. She's treating that recording like a barbed leash!"

"Right now, this dog leash is firmly fastened around the necks of you all!"

David spread his hands in frustration, indicating that he was now in dire straits and could barely save himself.

David spread his hands in frustration, indicating that he was now in dire straits and could barely save himself.

"Go and check the newspapers and television outside!"

"Right now, all the media in Seattle are reporting on Leon Vance and his ACU as if they were Captain America thwarting a terrorist attack!"

"I'm just a mere head of the internal affairs department. If I dared to step out now and investigate these heroes who saved the city..."

"Tomorrow morning, Mayor Reynolds, in an attempt to quell public anger, will stuff me into a gasoline drum and throw me into the sea to feed the fish on charges of harboring terrorists and persecuting a police hero!"

Upon hearing this analysis, Williams and the others' psychological defenses completely collapsed.

"Then... what should we do now?"

Williams was deathly pale, clutching his hair with both hands: "Are we all just going to wash our necks clean, sit in the station, and wait to die?"

Supervisor David looked at this group of hopeless idiots, sighed, and finally spoke.

"Starting today."

David gritted his teeth and said, word by word:

"Cut off all ties with the 12th Street Boys and all gangs in the West Side. Not a single penny of dirty money allowed!"

"You bunch of bastards, all of you better keep your tails between you during this period of time."