North American riot police: Start by arresting P. Diddy!

Chapter 58 General Hammer! Knock knock! (Please read and vote)
After several days of sunny days, Chicago's sky was finally overwhelmed by lead-gray clouds and heavy rain poured down.

The door of the police station.

Rorschach held a black umbrella, and the rain gathered into lines along the ribs of the umbrella, splashing fine water at his feet.

He stared at the busy figures behind the glass door of the police station, took a deep puff of his cigarette, and then crushed the cigarette butt into the stagnant water.

Better leave first.
The CD involves a very big matter, so it’s better not to come to the police station during this period, so as not to implicate the director or Ginny.

Just as he opened the car door, a familiar, gruff voice pierced through the rain: "What's up? After causing such a scene in New York, you're not even willing to enter the police station now?"

Rorschach turned around and saw the director walking towards him with his signature beer belly and a crooked umbrella.

"I saw you sitting there in a daze from upstairs."

The director looked Rorschach up and down, his gaze lingering on the bruises on his face and his slightly stiff stance. "You're seriously injured, you deserve it. Let's see if you dare to continue being Rambo next time. Are you addicted to being a lone hero?"

"Director, I."

"Don't worry, let's talk in the car."

The director was the first to open the door and get into the broken pickup truck.

Rorschach frowned and looked around. After confirming that there were no suspicious figures, he quickly got into the driver's seat.

As soon as the car door closed, the director patted him on the shoulder and laughed, "Well done! I thought you were just rescuing a kidnapped child, but I didn't expect it to be such a big case. Damn it! I knew that few of those celebrities were good people."

He leaned in closer and lowered his voice, "Tell me the truth, did you kill that black guy called Daddy yourself?"

Seeing the gleam in the old man's eyes, Rorschach raised a smile and nodded affirmatively.

"Hahaha! Good boy!"

The director slapped his knee excitedly, "This courage is comparable to when I was in the Marine Corps!"

Amid the sound of rain hitting the car window, the director carefully looked at the young man in front of him.

Although he was covered in wounds, his eyes were still as sharp as a knife.

He hasn't touched a gun in many years since he was transferred to the Commercial Crimes Division after retiring from the army.

Sometimes he felt that Rorschach was like himself in a parallel world - he also returned from the battlefield, but walked into the Murder Division he had always dreamed of, dealing with the most brutal criminals every day.

"This operation has been filed with the police, but I suggest you keep a low profile."

The director lowered his voice, raindrops dripping down the edge of his umbrella onto the car seat. "When the FBI comes to investigate, they'll say you went to the party and found no clues, and then attribute your injuries to a local Chicago gang. So many celebrities died this time, so why don't you just be an unsung hero this time? What do you think?"

Rorschach nodded. "That's exactly what I want. I don't want anyone to know that I did this."

"That's good." The director breathed a sigh of relief and suddenly seemed to remember something before asking, "By the way, why are you here today?"

"I'd like to take a few days off."

"No problem!" The director waved his hand cheerfully. "I'll grant you a week of administrative leave. Come back after you recover from your injuries."

When pushing open the car door, the director suddenly turned around and seemed to stop talking.

"that."

"What's wrong?" Rorschach rolled down the window.

"Well, never mind. It's nothing."

The director opened his mouth, but finally just waved his hand, and his back quickly disappeared in the rain.

Inside the car, Rorschach lit a cigarette, and bluish-white smoke swirled around.

He had to make this video public, but as a small policeman, he couldn't find any media that dared to take on this hot potato.

Although the director knew several state legislators and the governor, Illinois, like California, was a hardcore blue state. If he handed over this evidence, it would likely be used as political bargaining chips by politicians. Furthermore, he didn't want to drag the old director into this mess.

After pondering for a moment, a figure suddenly emerged in his mind—a man worthy of entrusting his life to.

The car ran over the water and quickly drove back to the residence.

The Gallagher house was too noisy, so Rorschach, who was recuperating from his injuries, chose to return to his home where he had experienced a fierce gun battle.

Although the furniture remains in a damaged state, the newly replaced security doors and bulletproof glass windows at least ensure basic safety.

He took out a spare disposable phone card and called his Irish brother first.

When he regained consciousness yesterday, he had already told the two guys to take the money and leave Chicago, and this call was to confirm whether they had done so.

Fortunately, the two brothers have left Illinois and are heading towards Montana.

The area is vast and sparsely populated, with farms and rednecks everywhere, which is indeed suitable for them to hide.

He then contacted Maria again, but to his surprise, she was still hanging around in New York.

This girl said that no one present suspected her, and she even lives in the Kardashian family's mansion now.

Judging from her excited tone, she seems to be planning to develop into the socialite circle.

At this time, the rainstorm outside the window became more and more violent, and the raindrops hit the glass like machine gun bullets.

Rorschach stood up and walked to the closet, staring at the picture of his mother in silence.

After a long time, he took down the photo frame and pulled out a yellowed piece of paper from behind the photo.

The watermark on the paper has become blurred because it has not been touched for many years.

Rorschach stared at the number, his thoughts going back to the time on the battlefield a few years ago.

This number belonged to his former direct superior, who was both a strict teacher and a kind father to him.

In the darkest days of the anti-terrorist battlefield, it was this man who taught him how to maintain his humanity in the midst of killing and how to grow into a true warrior.

Before he retired, he was promoted to brigadier general and transferred from the Army to become the commander of a special forces unit in the Pentagon responsible for overseas black operations.

His name is Frank Hammer, but Rorschach prefers to call him - General Hammer!
In Rorschach's short life, there were only a few people he could fully trust, and General Hammer always came first.

However, to his disappointment, he called several times in a row but received a busy tone.

"General."

Rorschach frowned.

Given the other party's identity and status, he might be carrying out a special mission in the Middle East or Africa at this time, so it is normal that the call cannot be connected.

However, Rorschach no longer had much time to wait for a call back.

Just as he put the note back into the photo frame, he caught a glimpse of a business card next to it.

But before he could pick it up, there was a rapid knock on the door.

He turned around and saw two girls in their twenties standing outside the window, soaking wet.

Their thin clothes were soaked by the rain and stuck tightly to their graceful bodies.

"gentlemen."

The blonde girl wiped the rain off her face and smiled sweetly. "Can we go in and take shelter from the rain?"

I'm looking for more reading and monthly votes. It's the end of the month, so if you have votes, please vote. Thanks. Does anyone know which movie this General Hammer is from? He's my favorite military character in all of Hollywood, a true tough guy who's also a tragic avenger.

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(End of this chapter)