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

Chapter 144 Delivery
Eric stayed there until dawn.

The morning light had just peeked over the oak treetops, and the whole community was still shrouded in the morning mist.

The streets were somewhat deserted.

Occasionally, the yellow silhouette of a school bus would slowly pass by, interspersed with a few residents jogging in the morning.

As punctual as a clock, at the appointed time, Eric opened his eyes, stared at the motionless car and the thieves' den, and glanced at his watch.

It was already 7:30 in the morning.

He stared at the black Ford Fusion ahead, a premonition rising in his mind that the enemy was about to appear.

A period of time passed quietly.

To his surprise, it wasn't the enemy emerging from their den, but a car that suddenly drove by that caught his attention.

Eric squinted slightly as he watched the sedan slow down and eventually stop behind the black Ford Fusion.

Then, under his gaze, a man in a suit stepped out of the car.

They also have typical Russian features.

This alone was enough for Eric to confirm the guy's identity.

Eric frowned; with his current senses, he could clearly tell that this person was no ordinary individual.

Men's behavior patterns differ from those of ordinary people.

Stand with your feet shoulder-width apart, lean your weight slightly forward, and move to the street. Your hands should rarely leave the midline of your body at the same time. This is a behavioral pattern that facilitates quick reactions.

When walking, I always land on the balls of my feet first, with light and steady steps, in order to reduce the noise of my footsteps.

"He's a master."

Eric took out his phone, intending to secretly take a picture and then go back to investigate.

A true master will never be unknown.

Anyone with a bit of fame will inevitably leave some clues.

Click!

Just as Eric finished taking a picture, he sensed that the man was about to turn his head to look in his direction, so he immediately ducked his head and hid under the car.

He parked his car at a distance that was neither too far nor too close, and right next to it was a corresponding detached villa, which was enough to dispel other people's wariness.

After a few seconds, when Eric looked up again, the man had indeed shifted his gaze and was walking towards the thieves' den.

He then saw three Russians get off the bus. The only difference between them and the men was that these three Russians were carrying large bags and small packages.

"Is this a weapon? Who is it meant to be used against? Me?"

With a thought to himself, Eric subconsciously took a few more photos with his phone, watching the Russians disappear into the den of thieves.

"OK! Over."

Eric looked through the photos on his phone and nodded in satisfaction. He then glanced at the thieves' den ahead and drove away.

The conditions have already been met.

-

As Eric left, a series of events were taking place in the den of thieves he had mentioned.

The expert he was referring to stood in front of the dining table, looking at the five elites who had been dispatched from various places, and then gestured to the three Russians who had followed him.

The three Russians understood, placed the large and small bags they had brought on the dining table, and then opened them.

Weapons of all sizes were visible inside.

Rifles and submachine guns are all available.

They even have hand grenades.

“This is the information we have so far. He has a university degree, works as a full-time employee at a tool store, and his bank account and tax returns are all normal. He seems very ordinary!” One of the five people who were transferred here said, looking at the man in the suit.

Nick said calmly, "It's all a lie, a fake identity he made up. People like him have to do this, they have to pretend in order to live a normal life."

"Okay, but he disappeared! He disappeared the instant you left!"

"We can't find him!!"

Nick asked in a deep voice, "Did you find any record of his work in the military?" "No!"

Nick's eyes flashed with a dangerous light: "A man like him won't run! His eyes that day were telling me he had his eye on me, so he wouldn't run!"

After those words were spoken, everyone present looked at each other without saying a word, and simply continued clearing the weapons off the table.

Only Nick continued, "Keep watching. If he still doesn't show up, we can cut off the source of the problem and force him out!"

"Okay!" everyone nodded in response.

But just then, a cell phone rang on one of them.

Under everyone's watchful eyes, he picked up his phone to answer, and finally looked at Nick in surprise.

"He showed up, at his workplace!"

Nick frowned for a moment, then his eyes relaxed instantly. He nodded and said, "Then let's get started. Remember to be quick and efficient!"

"In areas without surveillance cameras or witnesses, capture them alive if possible. This matter must be controlled and cannot be spread, because the Rusty Harbor gang incident has already drawn the FBI's attention to us."

Someone asked, "What if we can't capture them alive?"

Nick said coldly, "Then kill him, leaving the body is fine too!"

-

A huge tool market.

McCall, who had just returned from Washington, diligently completed his registration and then took a delivery order from his manager.

The plaza outside the shopping mall.

One of them was a van.

Several workers in overalls are working together to load and unload equipment from a forklift, using tools to lift it into its cargo compartment.

“Hey Joe! You’d better handle this carefully, because it’s a matter of trust,” McCall said.

Despite all being under the same authority, he stood outside giving orders, yet no one disobeyed him.

Joe gestured to McCall to indicate that he understood.

McCall smiled, looked at the document board in his hand, and checked it off to indicate that the goods had been confirmed to be in place.

He glanced at the address below and the section for the client's signature, a cryptic smile playing on his lips. He then turned to look at the distant parking lot, pausing for several seconds before continuing with his work.

“Sukabril! I’m sure he actually saw us!”

In a car in the parking lot, the Russian sitting in the passenger seat spoke to his accomplice in the driver's seat.

"Keep an eye on him. Nick's orders are just to make sure he's under our noses."

"."

Once he was sure everything was in place, McCall went back into the mall, handed the order to the receptionist, smiled at the colleague who was greeting him, and then went back outside to get into the van that was about to be delivered.

Of course, it's the passenger seat.

Once McCall got in the car, it slowly started moving.

"Brother, you didn't have to do this kind of work before, did you?" Joe, who was driving, asked McCall, who was following behind.

“Do you know what I used to do?” McCall smiled, glancing at the rearview mirror outside the passenger door and seeing a car following him from the parking lot.

Joe said, "You probably have some ideas? We've guessed what you've done before."

McCall: "What?"

Joe: "Hmm, I guess it's something like an insurance claim."

McCall said, "Wrong!"

"So that's the securities industry? On Wall Street?"

"You're all wrong, I used to be a seed!"

"Zongzi?"

"No, it's 'seed,' three-tone seed, like 'Gladynath & The Seeds,' oh well, I'll play it for you."

(End of this chapter)