The real life of an American police officer: Winning over others with virtue

Chapter 102 I have money

No. 1432, Shanzhuyu Road, 10 PM.

The night in Los Angeles deepened, and neon lights flowed through the night air at ten o'clock.

In the very center of the street stands a three-story Russian-style building, its ivory-white walls gleaming softly and warmly in the night.

The neon sign above the restaurant entrance was spelled out in Russian, and the bright red light shone on the dimly lit street, illuminating the corresponding name.

"Rebinsin Restaurant".

Reception desk.

"Hello, sir," a woman who was clearly Russian greeted the handsome man in front of her.

“Uh.” The man was none other than Eric, who nodded and smiled.

"I reserved a table for 10 o'clock."

"Hmm?" The woman raised an eyebrow and asked, "May I ask who you are?"

“Dirk Wells.” Eric didn’t panic, but instead uttered a name.

Before arriving, while still on the bus, he had already reserved the last seat at 10 o'clock in advance through an app. It was quite expensive, but now that he was rich, he didn't care.

Upon hearing this, the woman looked down at a board that she had already written down, and then smiled again.

"Mr. Wells?"

Eric nodded.

“Okay, please come with me,” the woman said softly, gesturing for another colleague standing nearby to take her place, and then led Eric inside.

After walking through the long corridor, Eric looked up at the surveillance camera on the corner of the wall at the intersection above.

"There's a security camera in the entrance passageway. Unlike the ones outside that are just for show, it's hard to hide from it here. It seems we have to..."

Then, he glanced out of the corner of his eye at two Russians playing cards at a standing table in a small open space in the middle of the passageway.

"Two Russians."

This is probably the main territory of the Rusty Harbor gang, much like the West Coast Wolf Clan's repair shop.

At the same time, there were many customers coming and going, making it look like a normal Russian restaurant that was operating normally.

After passing through the passageway, you arrive at a large space.

This is the dining area.

The warm yellow light, like a thin veil, gently enveloped every corner, creating a very luxurious atmosphere in the room.

The air was filled with the strong aroma of vodka, the savory flavor of black caviar, and the intermingling aromas of various delicacies.

The center was filled with tables, which gradually filled with men in suits and women in elegant evening gowns.

These people moved with elegance and composure, occasionally conversing in hushed tones, their laughter echoing softly through the restaurant.

Besides these, there was a small band playing in the corner.

Ahead was a relatively dimly lit bar. Several customers were sitting around the bar drinking, and there were also a few bartenders inside.

The overall atmosphere showed no signs of being ransacked or left in a mess.

"Mr. Wells?"

Upon hearing the voice, Eric looked at the receptionist who had stopped in confusion and nodded, signaling her to continue leading the way.

A short while later, the receptionist led him to the reserved table.

"Please wait a moment, someone will come to serve you shortly."

Eric nodded calmly, watched the receptionist leave, then looked at the set of cutlery on the table, picked up a knife casually, and then picked up the napkin on top and stuffed it into his pocket.

Then we began to observe.

It has to be said, this Rusty Harbor gang, which is suspected of being connected to the Grizzly Gang, does look much more upscale than Gek's repair shop. A Russian restaurant that's still packed at 10 pm—I wonder how many vehicles Gek must have stolen and modified to make it possible.

“Second camera, third camera, fourth camera.” Eric scanned the area. There were still many cameras, but only four had recorded him so far.

"This is tough. We still need to deal with the security system here." Eric shook his head inwardly. The small gangs he used to practice with only occupied one high-rise building. Unlike here, there was a camera every step of the way.

This also shows that the Rusty Harbor gang is very powerful and involves a lot of vested interests, which explains why they were able to continue operating normally after being raided by the North Hollywood Police Department.

"As expected, this step was the right one. If we had reported it, it would have been like alerting the enemy. Who knows how many corrupt cops are colluding with the Rusty Harbor gang?"

Eric muttered to himself and looked up at a male waiter who was clearly walking towards him.

They were all Russians.

“Mr. Wells?” He stopped right in front of him, holding a menu in his hand.

But before he could continue speaking or asking any questions, Eric simply took a business card from his pocket that surprised even the waiter and placed it on the table.

“I want the best service here,” Eric said calmly, like a guest who seemed to know what was going on.

"I heard you have the woman I'm looking for here?"

Such blunt words stunned the waiter. It was the first time he had encountered such a straightforward customer, but the service he had been taught to be impeccable helped him regain his composure.

"You..."

Eric rudely interrupted the waiter again: "I have a lot of money, a lot of money!"

The waiter's cheek twitched slightly, sensing that this customer was a bit difficult to deal with, acting like he was very powerful. He could only pick up the business card and bow.

"Please wait a moment."

“Go ahead.” Eric waved his hand and leaned back in his chair.

The waiter took a deep breath and left the spot.

Under Eric's watchful eye, they walked toward the back of the bar, then moved to a passageway to the right of the bar.

Watch as the waiter pointed and spoke to the two Russians standing at the entrance of the passageway.

"...Security here is quite tight, and with guests around, the competitors don't dare to cause too much trouble lest they attract the attention of the Los Angeles Police Department."

Even if the Los Angeles Police Department conducts inspections or raids, as long as someone takes preventative measures and buys time, the area can be well-prepared.

Eric, as was his habit, let the Russians guarding the entrance to the passageway look in his direction, and then strode over with a waiter.

"Is this the best service you want, as listed on the business card?" The Russian was indeed very burly, and his presence was more imposing than that of the waiter.

"Ah."

Eric looked up at the Russian and said, "What, is it not available at this time?"

"Yes," the Russian said in a muffled voice.

"The price is very high."

Eric looked calmly at the waiter standing behind the Russian, his face expressionless.

"Didn't he tell you that I'm very rich?"

The Russian glanced back at the nervous waiter, then smiled and said to Eric.

"follow me."

Perhaps because the word "rich" sounds appealing, the Russians became more amiable and didn't seem to care about Eric's arrogance. To them, as long as you have money, you can be arrogant as you want; in this country, having money is enough to be arrogant.

Eric nodded, got up and followed the Russian toward the bar at the back. He glanced back at the entire large restaurant one last time, looked at the laughing and chatting customers, and then looked away.

The waiter who was left to clean up noticed that a knife and napkin were missing from the tableware. His eyes flashed with doubt, but he still took the tableware away and prepared to set out new tableware.

As the waiter left the dining area, a Black man wearing a gray shirt and black casual pants walked past him, carrying a functional backpack specifically designed for storing and carrying various hardware tools.
(End of this chapter)