The World of American Drama: From the Los Angeles Patrol

Chapter 112 No results and Hannah's return
Colonel Norman Jangs put a smile on his face again, and said to Tim: "Are we reconciled? Superintendent Bradford."

Tim watched Lucy and John handcuff Pettigrew, then made an OK gesture in the direction of the tower crane, and turned on the walkie-talkie again.

"It's all right, Angela."

The red dot on Colonel Norman Jangers' chest disappeared in a flash. He turned around and made a urging gesture to his teammates.

"Okay, let's get this over with."

"What will happen to the money?" John asked aloud.

"Funding for the next five years of covert operations." Colonel Norman Jangers smiled, not at all like a person who had been coerced less than a minute ago.

"The federal government spends tens of billions of dollars on secret operations every year. Bradford must know something. When he was in Afghanistan, he should have seen a lot of counterfeit money."

Tim lowered his head, as if recalling some bad memories, and admitted reluctantly: "Yes."

Jack on the side had already put away his gun, and helped the forklift driver who was taken hostage by him to cover back the raincloth on the pile of counterfeit banknotes on the forklift. Hearing this conversation, he sneered in his heart. It's really shameless to replace money.

The conversation continued, and John still didn't understand.

"But it's counterfeit money!"

Colonel Norman Jangers' black face seemed to be coated with a layer of halo at this moment, and he said in a strange, aria-like voice.

"Think of it this way, we're not printing money, we're printing freedom."

Jack was about to vomit, but thinking about the cheap gasoline burned in his car, if he had to change it in his previous life, he might not be able to pay for a trip to a restaurant if he went out. They are lighthouse people, whether it is freedom or oil, they are all good things, the cheaper the better.

The LAPD was about to leave, and the people from the CIA and the National Intelligence Agency continued to be busy. Jack was about to escape, but was stopped by John Reaser.

"Have you considered joining the CIA?"

This blunt way of soliciting is really in the style of Reese, Jack laughed, "I still prefer to catch bad guys and solve cases. The life of [-] may not be suitable for me."

Although it is not clear whether this master's identity in this world is the Riise in "POI", whether he will be betrayed by the CIA, but compared to the CIA and the FBI, the FBI is obviously much safer, not to mention the CIA Strictly speaking, it has nothing to do with the police profession.

Walking a few steps, LAPD colleagues are surrounding Zoe, only to hear her admonishing everyone: "I didn't show up tonight, and you haven't seen me, you know?"

Everyone nodded in unison. It was also Jack's idea to find Zoe. When making plans before, Jack's idea was to have as many people as possible tonight, and to have someone with enough identity to hold the place. Can't tear face off.

The bigger the scene, the more fearful this gang of spies acting recklessly abroad will be. Kill one or two policemen, and maybe the higher-ups will pinch their noses to wipe their butts, but after they want to take away the main police force of the entire LA branch, they will still be afraid. Being able to escape unscathed is purely overthinking. Although the patrolmen are low-ranking, they are still employees of the state government.

Jack's arrangement is one after another. Tim and the others attract attention. He makes a sneak attack and confirms the existence of counterfeit banknotes. These counterfeit banknotes, the so-called secret mission of the federal government, were directly finished.

It's like a tightrope acrobatic show, Angela holding a sniper rifle is the insurance of force, just like the safety rope hanging by the actor to prevent the situation from getting out of control, Zoe is equivalent to the stick in the actor's hand, maintaining balance The essential.

Although she only said one sentence when she appeared on the stage, she endorsed the whole incident today. Whether it was the CIA or the National Intelligence Agency, they finally believed that these lunatics from LAPD were really fighting for an innocent homeless man who died tragically. Han is serious with them.

Finally, when everything was over, Zoe drove home by herself, pretending to ignore what happened, and the others escorted the suspect back to the police station.

"You just happened to wander around to the pier, and the murderer who killed Joe Delacourts just happened to appear in front of you, and then surrendered to you?"

Superintendent Gray, who had already changed into his civilian clothes and was about to get off work, looked at everyone with a look on his face that you were teasing me.

"Yes, sir." On the way back, everyone who had already given their confessions repeatedly spoke in unison.

"Then if the Chief Superintendent calls and scolds me tomorrow morning"

"He won't."

Tim decisively interrupted what he was going to say next.

The two men exchanged glances, and Superintendent Gray was a little speechless.

"Well, I don't want to know what happened tonight. I'm going home and going to sleep. You guys' reports should not be wrong for me."

"Yes, sir." Everyone said in unison again, and broke up laughing.
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Dividing line---
In the lobby of LA International Airport, where people come and go, Hannah, who is wearing a black professional attire and looks like an elite woman, pulled her suitcase and walked out of the aisle. She took off her sunglasses and looked around, but she didn't see a familiar tall figure. , could not help being slightly disappointed.

Just as she was about to fumble for her small bag and take out her mobile phone to make a call, a powerful big hand suddenly grabbed her arm from behind, and just when Hannah was about to give her a sneak attack back, a ringing sound came from her ear. There was a thoughtful voice.

"LAPD, you're under arrest chick."

"Ah!" Hannah screamed, turned around and threw herself into the arms of the person behind her.

"Don't you want to kiss one?" Before Jack could finish his sentence, his mouth was tightly blocked.

Time seemed to stand still at this moment.
"Hiss, this is your new tactic in Quanti Science?" Jack wiped his lips that were almost bleeding from being sucked, and stretched out his hand to pull the suitcase at Hannah's feet.

But Little Sweet Girl could only keep on being silly, and it took a long time before she said, "I miss you."

Simple love words are the most touching, seeing only himself in his eyes, without the aloof and elite-like little sweet girl when he just got off the plane, Jack's chest was slightly sore, as if the scene at this moment touched the softest part of his heart part,
Involuntarily pulling Hannah into his arms again, Jack whispered, "I miss you too, every day."

Feeling that the touch on his chest was no longer the usual, he frowned, let go of the chick, stepped back half a step, and carefully looked at her whole body again.

The legs are thinner, the waist is thinner, the chest
"Did Quantico train so hard? You lost at least 10 pounds."

"It's fifteen pounds. The food there is rotten. Those bastard nutritionists only make the damn mess every day. I really want to eat your sweet and sour pork and sweet and sour short ribs. I dream about it."

Hannah is holding Jack's arm and coquettishly in her characteristic southern accent, which is weird but surprisingly cute.

(End of this chapter)