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

"Hayes will be here soon. What are you planning to do?"

"Should I write a 5,000-word report about everything I just saw and give it to him? Tell him I just abused my power and killed a prisoner? Or should I say our people stole spoils from your Federation?"

Perkins remained silent.

His gaze fell on the blood-soaked gauze covering Lyon's abdomen.

Those were injuries sustained while blocking the road and preventing the drugs from leaving.

If it weren't for this madman policeman and his men holding the line, the situation might be completely different now; the drug dealers would have escaped, or there might have been an even bigger massacre.

Perkins took a deep breath and made a decision that went against his ancestors' wishes.

"No."

He shook his head, his gaze gradually focusing, transforming back into the shrewd detective, but something else was now hidden deep within his eyes.

"I didn't see anything."

Perkins lowered his voice and spoke quickly:

"My report will only state: the suspect resisted arrest, a fierce firefight ensued, and he succumbed to his injuries..."

"Shh-"

Leon suddenly stuck a finger to his lips, interrupting Perkins' long-winded speech about his eagerness to pledge his loyalty.

"Don't rush, Detective."

He lowered his head slightly, his gaze falling meaningfully on the Glock pistol at Perkins's waist.

"Your gun hasn't fired yet, has it?"

Perkins paused for a moment, then subconsciously touched the cold grip of the gun.

"No. I was suppressed for too long just now..."

"That won't do."

Lyon shook his head, turned to the side to give Perkins a shooting opportunity, and pointed to Darlis, whose head was already split open on the ground:

"Fire two shots. To the torso, or the thigh, either way is fine."

"The report is easier to write, and you get credit for it."

Perkins looked at Leon's eyes, which seemed particularly deep in the shadows, and then at the corpse on the ground.

After a few seconds of struggle.

His trembling hand jerked out the Glock and aimed it at the corpse on the ground.

"Bang! Bang!"

The two gunshots mingled with the sound of rain, and did not seem abrupt.

Perkins lowered his gun, his palms sweating, but the uneasy feeling that had been pressing on his chest vanished strangely with those two gunshots.

Lyon raised an eyebrow in surprise.

This kid's got it.

"Smart." Leon grinned.

Perkins didn't respond to the compliment. He glanced around, quickly pulled a plain white business card from his pocket with no markings except for a private number, and shoved it into Lyon's muddy hand.

"Take it."

Perkins stared intently into Lyon's eyes, his expression extremely serious:

"Officer Vance... no, Leon."

"Hayers... he's a typical bureaucrat. All he cares about is whether the shipment is still there and whether he can get a chance to appear at the press conference."

"As for the specific details of the firefight... he wasn't interested in hearing about it, and I didn't need to write it down in such detail."

"This is my private number; it doesn't go through the bureau's servers."

"If you have any information from unofficial sources in the future, or need any technical support..."

"I think we could talk more."

After saying that, without waiting for Leon's response, he straightened his collar, turned around and walked towards the edge of the battlefield, his figure appearing somewhat hurried in the rainy night.

Leon held the thin card in his hand, watching the young agent's retreating figure with a hint of amusement.

"Interesting. It seems that the Federation isn't all just bookworms and bureaucrats who've gone mad from reading too much."

No sooner had Perkins left than Kevin rushed over anxiously, holding a communication terminal that was flashing red light.

"Boss, boss!"

He wiped his rain-soaked glasses and handed Leon the earpiece that was flashing with encrypted call requests:

"It's Chief Sterling's private line, urgent!"

Leon wiped his blood-stained hands on his pants, took the terminal, and put on the headset.

"This is Vance."

"Leon! Listen up!"

Sterling's voice came through the headphones.

Her voice sounded a little hoarse and had a heavy nasal tone, clearly indicating that she had just been woken up from her sleep by a phone call.

That's normal, though.

Executives of Sterling's caliber typically work a nine-to-five job.

Maintaining order at night is the responsibility of the duty commander, usually a police inspector.

Unless a major incident involving terrorism, mass riots, or serious police casualties occurs, the precinct chief will not normally make phone calls in the middle of the night.

Clearly, tonight's massive brawl in the North and the battle in ACU here were enough to wake Sterling from his beauty sleep.

"Tell me, has that bastard Hayes arrived? Has he taken over the situation?"

Not yet, but it will be soon.

Lyon glanced back at the row of red and blue police lights approaching in the distance.

"In about two minutes, I'll see that disgusting face of the federal agent."

"Stop him!!"

"I understand, Chief. What do you want to do?" Leon asked.

"Listen, I've already used my personal connections to contact three mainstream media outlets that still have people available after joining in the fun in the North District."

"Note that I called the reporter, not the kind who came on their own!"

"Their broadcast van is nearby, it'll be there in five minutes at most!"

"I want the Seattle Police Department logo to be the first picture on tomorrow's front page, not those pretentious federal thugs in trench coats!"

"Your task now is to stall Hayes!"

"Once my reporters arrive and the flashbulbs go off, the matter will be settled. Even if Hayes wants to take it, he'll have to consider public opinion."

"Do you understand what I mean? Don't let them touch anything!"

Lyon listened to the roar in his headset and a cold smile curled at the corner of his mouth.

Just what he wanted.

If Hayes takes over the situation, things will get really messed up.

First, there's Darlis.

This guy was executed by him at close range.

If a gang's second-in-command of Darliss were to end up alive in the hands of the FBI, given their nature, they would likely make a deal with him to become a Confessional Investigator (CI) and indict higher-ranking gang leaders.

He will likely be included in the federal witness protection program, which would not only save him from jail time, but also allow him to change his name and continue living a carefree life in some sunny state.

The problem is that if the FBI's technical staff, who are experts in ballistic analysis and forensic identification, were to take over the body, they would only need to glance at the bullet hole between the eyebrows to determine that it was not a stray bullet from the crossfire.

Hayes will be furious without Darlis. They'll take this to the Department of Justice, and then those mad dogs in the Department of the Interior will be there, sniffing around.

Secondly, there's his group of brothers.

They looted the bodies too thoroughly; many of them still have gold teeth, watches, and rolls of US dollars in their pockets.

If the FBI were to cordon off the scene and conduct a body search or inventory, these brothers who had just fought tooth and nail with the drug dealers would not only fail to get their money, but would also be severely punished, even if they didn't go to jail.

Finally, and this is the simplest point.

I risked my life, braving snipers and machine guns to win this dungeon, why should you, a federal idiot who only came to defend me at the last minute, open the treasure chest?

"Don't worry, Chief."

Leon glanced at the still-warm body of Darlis on the ground, his eyes dark and menacing.

"In five minutes, I'll make sure they can't move an inch."

"Unless Hayes drives a tank over me, he won't be taking a single screw with him until the reporters have taken enough pictures."

"Very good! You've done a good job. At the celebration banquet in a few days, I'll make sure you drink whatever you want."

After hanging up the phone, Leon tossed the earpiece back to Kevin, turned around, and yelled at Harrison, who was still busy pulling tactical vests off the corpses:

"Everyone, listen up!"

"Stop picking up trash, all of you, hurry up!"

"Harrison, take some men to the intersection and set up a cordon. Push those two wrecked SUVs over there as roadblocks!"

"The FBI agents are on their way, but before our reporters can take pictures, not a single one of you will be allowed in, even if those federal agents try to shove their badges into your mouths!"

"This is the territory we fought for with our blood! Our spoils! Our glory! No one can take it away from us!"

The ACU members were stunned for a moment, then understood what their leader meant.

"yes!!!"