America: Starting with the Last Liberty

Los Angeles Police Department Headquarters, Detention Cell.

Brian woke up with a violent cough, feeling sore all over, as if he had been beaten up.

Although Brian did indeed mess with his boss, Bradford wouldn't go so far as to beat him up while he was unconscious.

Actually, it was just that Brian's cold was getting worse.

After all, he spent an hour in a refrigerated truck at -20 degrees Celsius yesterday, and then didn't get a proper rest all day. In the early hours of the morning, he was caught by the Los Angeles police and thrown into a detention room.

You can't expect the guards on duty in the detention cell to cover Brian with a blanket; you're lucky they didn't throw him into a cell with other inmates.

Otherwise, Brian's pain might not have been all over his body, but only in a localized area.

With his hands cuffed, Brian had difficulty even getting up.

Brian touched his belongings and found that they had indeed been taken away. He could only ask the police officer on duty outside.

As soon as Brian opened his mouth, he found that his voice was completely hoarse, and he had to strain to speak.

"Excuse me, what time is it?"

The on-duty police officer, who was reading the newspaper and drinking coffee, looked up at Brian.

"9:25 AM. Why does your voice sound like that? Did someone stab you in the throat?"

I have a cold.

"Committing crimes while having a cold? You're really dedicated!"

The officer on duty didn't know why Brian had been arrested, but since he had been arrested, he was most likely a criminal.

Brian gave a wry smile; this was the fate of an undercover agent.

Despite his colleagues' disapproval and the pangs of conscience, Brian has gradually begun to understand what Donnie had told him.

Just as Brian was feeling dejected, a policewoman walked in and greeted the officer on duty.

"Superintendent Tim Bradford wants to interrogate Brian O'Connor."

"Oh, that's him. Take him out."

Brian looked up and saw a smartly dressed policewoman open the door to the detention cell.

"Brian O'Connor, behave yourself!"

The policewoman gave a routine warning, as many criminals are known to be quite volatile.

However, Brian is an exception; he has difficulty walking now, and he almost fell as soon as he stood up.

"What's wrong with you? Have you tried to quit?"

The policewoman thought Brian was a drug addict experiencing withdrawal symptoms, which was why he looked like that.

Brian quickly explained.

"No, it's not withdrawal, it's just a bad cold!"

"A bad cold? You're out committing crimes with a bad cold?"

I don't know if it's because healthcare in Europe and America is worse, or because Europeans and Americans have less resistance to colds than East Asians, but in any case, a cold is a serious illness in Europe and America, and many people die from colds every year.

The policewoman's thoughts were similar to those of the officer on duty, which made Brian even more depressed.

When you are sick, your mood tends to drop.

The policewoman shook her head; she was still kind-hearted.

"Looking like this, we'll send you to the hospital after the interrogation. Don't die in the police station."

"Thank you, thank you."

The policewoman led the unsteady Brian to the interrogation room, where Tim Bradford was already waiting.

Bradford was also puzzled to see Brian looking like he was about to die.

"Why is he like this?"

He said he had a bad cold.

"A bad cold? Okay, you can go out now."

Bradford waved for the policewoman to leave the interrogation room, then crossed his arms and looked at Brian.

They just kept staring without saying a word.

Brian, suffering from a cold, was seeing stars, and Bradford was almost double in his vision.

After a long pause, Bradford finally spoke.

Why do this?

"What?"

"I told you not to act rashly and to wait for my orders. Why did you still pretend to be that Asian and cause me trouble?"

Brian's mouth moved a few times, and after a few seconds of pause, he uttered a single word in a hoarse voice.

I owe him a favor.

"So you're just going to let all that hard work from so many people in the department go to waste? Have you forgotten you're a Los Angeles police officer?"

Bradford angrily stepped forward and poked Brian in the chest with his finger.

These words silenced Brian. His choice had indeed led to a significant waste of police resources, and Bradford was likely to be implicated as a result.

"You know what? I could easily pretend you were the driver of that Dodge Viper and send you to jail! That way, nothing would happen!"

Brian remained silent, while Bradford continued to spit as he vented his anger.

Bradford's anger only gradually subsided after he had been lashing out at Brian for five minutes straight.

"Brian, if you still consider yourself a cop, tell me the driver's name and what he looks like, and I can pretend last night never happened."

Brian finally spoke.

"That person is actually an FBI agent; I only found out yesterday."

"Watfuck?"

Bradford was initially shocked, then his anger surged again, and he kicked over his chair.

"How could he possibly be an FBI agent? Then why would he participate in that car race?"

Brian gave a wry smile.

"I think his target was Martin. Martin really enjoyed making friends with great drivers, but he was murdered that very night. Sir, don't you find it strange? We suddenly received news that Martin was organizing a race, and then Martin was murdered..."

Bradford knew, of course, that the two events were too coincidental, but the Los Angeles Police Department was neither a gang nor a secret service; they acted based on evidence.

"That message was sent to the bureau anonymously, and we can't find the person who sent it."

"From the perspective of motives and benefits, I think Francis Rich is the most suspicious."

"Everyone knows Francis Rich is involved, especially after more than a dozen Bonanno family team leaders were murdered at a Korean restaurant last night, but where's the evidence? Police need evidence to solve cases!"

"More than a dozen team leaders died in a Korean restaurant?"

Brian stared at Bradford in shock. He was unaware of this, as his mission last night had been to plant the spy pen and drive a Rosen Dodge Viper to attract the attention of the Los Angeles Police Department.

Bradford rubbed his forehead in frustration. Yesterday, he ordered a chase after Dodge Viper, but in the end, they only caught Brian, which was like picking up a sesame seed and losing a watermelon.

"I just found out about this myself. The FBI has issued arrest warrants for Dominic Toledo and his two henchmen."

These words made Brian stand up immediately, although he quickly sat back down because his legs went weak.

"What! Dominic would never do that!"

Bradford glared at Brian.

"The FBI only issues an arrest warrant when they have sufficient evidence! Instead of worrying about Dominic Toledo, you should think more about your own problems!"

"I'll take you to the hospital."