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

Chapter 128 Exposed
A luxurious room.

Nick, his upper body bare and covered in tattoos, stared blankly at the street surveillance photos he had compiled in his hand.

Next to him was a phone playing music on speakerphone: "Nick! Tell me, what have you found out?"

“Mr. Pushkin, I’m still investigating. The Rust Iron Harbor gang was raided by the police before the incident, because Aigur punished a prostitute and a young man, and this young man seems to have some connections.”

Nick looked at the surveillance photos in his hand and said calmly.

"After this incident, the massacre occurred. The person who carried it out was definitely a top-notch professional assassin, clean and efficient!"

Aegur was subjected to brutal interrogation before his death, a method I rarely see. He might also have had ties to military intelligence.
I suspect they are not our enemies; they don't have that capability.

It must be someone we've never met before, so this person probably acted on a whim, which is why they went up from the first floor.

Then the police and FBI took action against the Rusty Harbor gang, uprooting it completely.

So now I'm wondering if this prostitute and that guy with some connections are related to this person, or whether they're actually involved in this whole thing.

A stern voice came through the phone: "Whoever it is, find them now! I need to transport one million barrels of crude oil; there can be no risk whatsoever, understand?"

Nick turned down a card and calmly said, "No problem, I will handle this properly, Mr. Pushkin."

"Find him! Remember to let the outside world know about this, to let them know the price of taking action against us. I don't want this to happen again."

Nick said, "Of course, I'm close to catching up with this guy."

A notification sounded indicating the call had ended.

Nick finally picked up the photo in his hand, and looking at the prostitute and the young man chatting and laughing in it, his eyes turned dangerous.

But he put the photo aside and then picked up another one.

The image above shows the figure of a repairman, with dark skin and an ordinary, unremarkable face. The location is approximately five blocks away from the Rebinsin Restaurant.

Nick put the photo down and then picked up the next one.

It was the same repairman again, now located just one block away from the Rebinsin Restaurant.

Nick put the photo down again and then picked up a surveillance photo with a hospital background, in which the dark-skinned man reappeared.

They all feature the same protagonist.

Nick laid out all the photos and stared at them expressionlessly.

Just like a jigsaw puzzle master, gradually piecing together the fragments to form a complete picture.

Before the Rusty Harbor gang was completely eradicated by the police and the FBI, all of its territories had been swept away because of a prostitute and a young man with some connections.

Therefore, he felt that this matter was related, and in order not to alert the enemy, he directly ordered his subordinates to try to obtain the surveillance video of the hospital where the two people were staying.

After extensive and careful comparison, he suddenly discovered that a black man acted like a thread, connecting the two seemingly unrelated fragments.

Black people aren't a particularly prominent feature; they're everywhere. But it's suspicious when someone appears in the hospital where the prostitute and the kid were staying, and then again near the Repinsin restaurant.

All the clues are afraid of being cross-referenced.

Without the hospital's surveillance video, he would never have discovered that line.

Nick lay back and stared at the ceiling in thought for a moment.

Seemingly imagining the scene of meeting this expert, he thought for a moment, then casually picked up his phone, took the clearest picture of the black man and the license plate of the bus he had boarded, found a number, sent it in, and then dialed the number.

After the other party answers.

"Find out where this person is currently living right now."

"clear."

Upon hearing the response, Nick hung up the phone and quietly watched the screen gradually dim. Finally, he subconsciously glanced at the time above.

[04: 34]
He put down his phone and walked towards the bathroom inside.

Eight O'clock.

When Nick came out in the morning, he was already dressed in a suit and ready to go.

He entered the black car that had been waiting for him outside.

The same Russian was still sitting in the back seat. He looked a bit tired, probably because he hadn't slept all day and had spent a lot of energy on the investigation.

He looked at Nick, who sat in the car without saying a word, and casually handed him a document.

"Found him."

Nick didn't even look at him: "Then take me there."

The other Russian in the driver's seat glanced at the rearview window and exchanged a look with the Russian in the back seat. They then began to steer the car in a certain direction.

"Why didn't you wait for someone to come?" the Russian in the back seat couldn't help but ask.

"Because it hasn't been confirmed whether it's him or not."

Nick gave a nervous smile: "If it's him, then I'd like to see such a master in person. I want him to know our power, and I also want him to know that this is the only thing he's ever done that he regrets the most."

This feels good, doesn't it?

As the Russian's beard twitched at the corner of his mouth, he suddenly realized that someone like Nick was a complete madman, whose thinking seemed to be somewhat different from that of ordinary people.

"This guy must have some psychological and mental issues," he muttered to himself.

"This is Mr. Pushkin's request, to let him know that he has messed with the wrong person."

Upon hearing this, the Russian shut his mouth tightly.

As before, Nick tapped his fingertips lightly on his thigh, his eyes fixed on the street scene rushing past the window. A corner of the car window reflected the corner of his mouth, which was twitching with excitement.

-

The black sedan eventually came to a stop on the side of a quiet, peaceful street.

This is an apartment complex on one corner of the street.

“It’s room 504 in this building,” the Russian in the back seat said.

Nick had already gotten out of the car, looked up at the somewhat old apartment building in front of him, straightened his clothes, and walked over. Under the watchful eyes of the three Russians in the car, he entered the apartment building and finally disappeared.

The three Russians looked at each other and shook their heads.

at the same time.

McCall is unaware that he has been exposed. He is standing in front of the sink arranging the freshly washed dishes, as if he has obsessive-compulsive disorder, making sure that all the patterns on the dishes are visible, at the perfect angle.

Just then, as if sensing something, he frowned slightly and looked at the closed door.

He then walked over, stopped in front of the door, listened to the faint footsteps outside, and looked at the key hanging on the wall next to him.

At this moment, the key was swinging with a very small amplitude that was imperceptible to the average person.

There are people outside, not many, just one person.

McCall's face immediately hardened, and a kind of instinct formed through training made all his muscles tense instantly.

His room was on the top floor, and normally no one would come up there. The people who lived there didn't have such strong and steady footsteps.

He crept closer to the doorway, carefully sensing the sounds he heard, then opened the door and peered out from the side.

Finally, a strange man in a neat suit came up and stopped on the landing.

(End of this chapter)