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

Lyon stopped, glanced down at Hayes' outstretched hand, and then looked up at Sterling, who was sitting in the back watching the show with a blank expression.

He had overheard most of the conversation inside while he was outside the door.

Surveillance? Staking out? For months?

Are you kidding me?

This kind of tedious, unprofitable, and utterly wasteful work—whoever wants to do it can do it.

He's here to rack up points, make money, and run away; he's not here to be a human webcam.

Besides, I just made a deal with Sterling last night. If I were to flirt with the FBI now, wouldn't that make me seem unprofessional?

"He who eats another's food is bound to him; he who takes another's money is obligated to him." At this point, one must express their stance and take sides.

So Lyon didn't reach out.

He even took a half step back, looking Hayes up and down with the eyes one would give a salesman, then turned to Sterling and asked with a blank expression:

"Director? And who is this? An insurance salesman? Or someone new to the Internal Affairs Department?"

"Are we that close?"

Hayes's hand froze in mid-air once again.

His smile instantly crumbled.

Damn it

Why does this scene look so familiar?

A few days ago at the scene on that rainy night, that woman Sterling did exactly the same thing, completely ignoring him.

Now look what's happened! They've changed this junior patrol officer, but it's still the same old routine!

Like boss, like subordinate, right?

Are all the people in your West Precinct blind? Do you think my FBI uniform and face are so unrecognizable?

He didn't believe Lyon wouldn't recognize him.

That night, next to the command vehicle, this guy was clearly just watching the show, even exchanging glances with that barbarian Hobbs.

Hayes was furious; he wanted nothing more than to slap the ID card right in Lyon's face.

But he can't.

Lyon's combat skills and his unpredictable, mad dog-like nature are rare and much-needed resources for this operation.

Those federal agents who only know how to write reports are completely incapable of doing this kind of dirty work.

As a highly trained senior agent, for the sake of the mission, for the sake of performance, and for the sake of eradicating this drug gang...

endured

Hayes took a deep breath, forcibly pulled back the facial muscles that were about to collapse, squeezed out an awkward smile, and sheepishly put his hands back into his pockets.

"Ha... Officer Vance is quite the comedian."

"It seems the heavy rain that night really affected visibility, or maybe the adrenaline made you forget about some unimportant supporting characters."

"I am Richard Hayes, FBI Senior Agent."

"Oh—the FBI."

Leon nodded in sudden realization, but even Mia could hear the disdain in his tone—"So you're here to steal my job."

"My apologies. I was so focused on saving people and catching those scumbags that day that I didn't really notice there were such clean-dressed people around."

Here we go again? Is this never going to end?

Hayes felt her migraine was about to flare up.

Looking at the second-level patrol officer in front of him, who stood sloppily and exuded an air of "I'm the boss," Hayes was filled with questions.

Just who is this kid?

Even the chief detective of the precinct usually treats him with great respect. Although he doesn't know what he's really thinking, who wouldn't want to have a network of acquaintances in the Federation?

Recalling that rainy night, Hobbes, this brute who knew nothing but killing, publicly invited this guy to join SWAT, and the guy refused without even blinking an eye.

Now he's acting all indifferent towards me again.

This guy... could he be a young master from some conglomerate or a Washington senator's family, out here to experience life?

Hayes couldn't help but mutter to himself, his eyes darting suspiciously back and forth between Sterling and Lyon.

There was nothing like that in the background check; the file was spotless, like a blank sheet of paper.

unless……

Is this guy having an affair with Sterling?

If that's the case, then this attitude makes sense.

"Just kidding, Agent."

Lyon suddenly spoke up, deciding to stop while he was ahead.

He's not really a hothead; going overboard with the loyalty act would be ungrateful. The other party is the FBI; if he really embarrasses them and creates a grudge, it'll be difficult for him to get along in the underworld later.

Hayes chuckled dryly, forcibly changing the subject and moving on from the awkward topic.

On the other side, Sterling, holding a coffee cup, subtly curled the corner of his mouth, using the rim of the cup as cover.

Feeling relaxed

That bastard has at least a conscience.

Although she was outmaneuvered by Lyon last night, which made her question her life for a moment,

But seeing Leon standing on her side, baring his teeth at the FBI, she suddenly felt that all the overtime pay and privileges were worth it.

"Alright, Vance."

Sterling put down his glass and spoke at the opportune moment, his tone carrying a hint of reproach and indulgence that only "one of his own" could detect.

"Stop teasing Agent Hayes. He's a busy man in the Federation; he doesn't have time to appreciate your humor."

"I was just trying to lighten the mood; the detective didn't look too happy."

Lyon effortlessly switched from his nonchalant attitude back to business mode.

He pulled out the chair opposite Sterling's desk, ignored Hayes, and plopped down, gesturing to Mia, who was still standing there dumbfounded, to sit down as well.

"Since this is a big case, let's not just stand there. Tell us, what do you need us to do?"

Hayes took a deep breath, pulled a document marked "Confidential" from his briefcase, and spread it out on the table.

"The plan is simple. We've identified a general storage area in the industrial zone. Based on the interrogation results, a shipment of weapons and drugs will be distributed in the near future."

"The FBI will provide technical support and intelligence analysis. We need personnel from your West Precinct, especially you, Officer Vance."

"You need to work in shifts with others to keep watch 24 hours a day. Record license plates, confirm people, but you absolutely cannot alert them during this time."

"Once the time is right, we will mobilize a federal task force to close in."

Sterling listened with his chin in his hand.

Now that Leon is here and clearly on her side, this task, which seems like manual labor, has much more room for maneuver.

Who says surveillance can only be surveillance?

In any frontline operation, accidents are always inevitable.

"In principle, I can agree."

Sterling raised his eyelids, resuming his shrewd, public relations-like smile. "The Western District will fully cooperate with the federal operation."

"However, Officer Vance, as the actual person in charge of ACU operations, reports directly to me."

She emphasized the words "report directly to me," then looked at Hayes:

"In other words, Agent Hayes, all your instructions need to be approved by me before being relayed to Vance."

"I don't want to see chaos on the front lines caused by multiple lines of command, understand?"

"no problem."

Hayes agreed quickly. After all, once he got the person, the situation would determine who to listen to on the spot.

"As long as the job is done well, I have no objections."