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

Chapter 173 Daughter
TSA (Transportation Security Administration) security checkpoint.

The procession snaked and twisted like a snake, bypassing countless barriers.

A huge sign displayed various prohibitions and procedures: Remove shoes, unbuckle belts, and remove all electronic devices larger than a mobile phone! Liquids/gels/sprays must be placed in a 3-1-1 transparent bag!
Eric was used to it; he only had a backpack and easily passed through security.

Following the signs, Eric walked past the dazzling array of duty-free goods without glancing at them, showing no interest in buying anything.

He simply found a Starbucks near the gate, queued up and bought a large iced Americano and a simple sandwich, which would be his main source of food for the next few hours of his cabin journey.

Find gate 78B. Through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, you can see the busy tarmac, where a massive Boeing 787 is surrounded by ground crew vehicles carrying out various pre-flight operations.

It's obvious that this is the type of aircraft he's about to board.

However, to Eric's surprise, the middle-aged man he had noticed outside was now also at the boarding gate.

The man seemed to glance at him again. Although there was still some distance between them, Eric, with his improved observation skills, keenly caught the fleeting micro-expression on the other man's face.

The other person's facial muscles stiffened for 0.3 seconds, and there was an extremely subtle change in tension in the upper eyelid of his left eye. The muscles supporting the eyelid contracted slightly for a moment, making his gaze appear more focused and... with a hint of barely perceptible inquiry.

Micro-expressions are extremely brief and subtle.
"Is this guy observing me?" Eric looked away, trying to control his expression, and muttered to himself, a bad feeling creeping over him.

"I hope nothing will happen?" Eric glanced at the Boeing 787 outside the window and shook his head.

Before he could even think of anything, an announcement came over the loudspeaker: "Delta Air Lines flight UA567, bound for Washington Dulles International Airport, is now boarding at gate 78B. First, we invite our premium members, passengers requiring special assistance, and families with young children to board."

The crowd began to stir, and many people got up and walked over there. Eric waited for a while, and sure enough, the uncle also got up.

We were on the same flight, on the same plane.

"Never mind, I guess I was overthinking it."

Eric glanced at his boarding pass, then picked up his backpack and followed.

After scanning my boarding pass and passing through the gate, I walked across the jet bridge, and a familiar cabin smell, a mixture of cleaning agents, leather, and the unique scent of an enclosed space, wafted towards me.

With a polite greeting from the flight attendant, Eric quickly found his window seat 27A. But what struck him as a strange coincidence was that the suspicious-looking man was sitting in the aisle seat next to him, 27B.

At the same time, the man seemed slightly surprised to see Eric, nodded to him, and stepped aside to make way for him to get to his seat.

"Thank you." Eric put his backpack in the overhead luggage rack, thanked them, and sat down.

"You're welcome," the uncle nodded, then suddenly spoke up.

"I feel like we're quite destined for each other?"

The middle-aged man suddenly struck up a conversation, and Eric laughed, "I think so too. I saw you smoking outside."

"Uh." The middle-aged man grunted, sniffing the smell of smoke on himself. "It shouldn't bother you, right?"

“No,” Eric laughed. “Some of my colleagues smoke quite often.”

"Oh, really?" The middle-aged man was a little surprised and asked, "What is your job? If you feel offended, I can apologize."

“Just an ordinary patrolman.” Eric didn’t hide anything; his intuition told him that this man probably wasn’t a bad person.

Upon hearing this, the man was quite surprised and extended his hand: "My name is Bill. It's nice to meet you, Officer. This is one of the professions I respect."

Eric stared at him for a second, then extended his hand and shook it: "Just an ordinary patrolman, Eric. You can just call me Eric."

"Okay." Bill smiled, marking the end of the conversation.

Eric stopped talking, but after a while, he noticed that this middle-aged man named Bill, who exuded a melancholy aura, was constantly observing all the passengers and repeatedly scanning the cabin. Even his peripheral vision would linger on other passengers.

This strange discovery made Eric subconsciously glance at the other passengers, who were either reading newspapers or busy with other things.

Therefore, this scene and Bill's behavior form a rather stark contrast.

"He's definitely not a simple guy." Eric's lips twitched slightly. He found that he always seemed to encounter some unusual people.

For example, McCall, or this Bill whose identity is currently unknown.

Regardless of what Bill, whose identity is still unknown, does, as long as he doesn't offend him, he's willing to be an ordinary passenger who knows nothing.

He was just a man who wanted to surprise his girlfriend, who seemed to be sulking.

With that in mind, Eric stopped observing, but out of professional habit, he still glanced at the location of the emergency exits and the instructions for the life jackets.

Bill glanced at him, then looked away.

-

"Welcome aboard Delta Air Lines flight UA567, an inbound flight to Washington Dulles International Airport. I am Captain Colin Chambers, and the First Officer is Evan Burke."
Los Angeles is sunny, but there may be light rain in Dulles, Washington. This flight is expected to be a smooth flight, with an estimated flight time of just over five hours. Please fasten your seatbelts. Thank you. The plane is about to take off.

As announced over the loudspeaker, the roar of the engines gradually increased, and the plane began to taxi slowly on the runway. Eric subconsciously looked out the window, and the LAX terminal and ground support vehicles were all slowly moving backward.

The powerful thrust pressed him against the back of the chair, and the scenery outside the window rushed past rapidly, faster and faster.

At one point, accompanied by a slight feeling of weightlessness, the vast grid of Los Angeles, its winding highways, and the blue Pacific coastline rapidly shrank and distorted, eventually being covered by a thin layer of mist.

Eric let out a soft sigh and glanced instinctively at his neighbor, noticing Bill holding a blue ribbon tightly in his hand.

"Lucky charm?"

Hearing the voice, Bill looked at Eric and said, "Pretty much. It was given to me by my daughter when she was little. I take it with me every time I fly."

"And a daughter?" Eric said. "I think I'm very lucky."

Bill: "Huh?"

“Because of your daughter’s lucky charm, I think I should be able to reach my destination safely,” Eric said earnestly, and he was indeed very serious.

"Heh," Bill chuckled. "I hope so."

Eric nodded and asked, "Do you fly often?"

Perhaps due to Eric's natural affability and the added advantage of his position as a patrol officer, Bill said, "To be honest, I fly almost every day."

“Cool.” Eric continued, “How old is your daughter?”

Bill paused for a moment at those words, but a gentle look appeared on his face: "She's seventeen now."

"Should it be a rebellious phase?" Eric laughed.

Bill replied, "Yes, a bit rebellious."

After this conversation, the two men began to feel a sense of familiarity with each other.

(End of this chapter)