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

Chapter 182 The End
Sure enough, everyone has emotions when faced with such situations; the only difference is the degree to which they control them.

Because of his enhanced mental abilities, his observation skills have skyrocketed, and he is now able to analyze other people's emotions through their micro-expressions.

So I've started trying to control my micro-expressions, but I still can't control them in these situations.

If he's already like this, the passengers will only feel even worse.

You can find out the outward expression of any emotion here—tears of joy, soft sobs, heavy and tense breathing.

The scene was still somewhat chaotic.

All of this was no longer relevant to him; all Eric knew was that he was safe.

As the aircraft's speed decreased sharply, transitioning from a high-speed sprint to a sluggish state, the noise from the engine's reverse thrust also began to gradually subside.

The captain's voice came over the intercom again: "Attention passengers, this is the captain's announcement."

We have landed safely, but due to a security threat on board, an emergency evacuation must be carried out immediately.

All passengers are requested to remain calm, strictly follow the instructions of the flight attendants, and quickly proceed to the nearest exit to escape.

Do not take any luggage! Repeat, do not take any luggage! This is an emergency evacuation!

Eric unbuckled his seatbelt and glanced out the window again. The plane hadn't taxied to the terminal; instead, it had stopped on the runway.

He could see a huge convoy of vehicles with flashing blue and red police lights speeding toward them in the distance—fire trucks, ambulances, police cars, and several special vehicles painted with the words "EOD" (Explosive Ordnance Disposal).

"Ten minutes left," Eric thought to himself, believing there was no time to defuse the bomb.

The most important thing right now is to get the plane off the plane as soon as possible.

Before that, the Sig Sauer P226 tucked into his waistband and the pistol seized from Kelvin should be returned to their rightful owners.

“Bill.” Eric looked at Bill.

Bill immediately turned his head, his gaze falling on Eric's face. He then saw the movement of Eric's hands, nodded, took the two pistols from Eric's hands, and examined them.

"You go first. Someone might ask you questions later. Just answer truthfully, and I'll speak up for you."

Eric nodded knowingly. As the assistant who directly subdued the suspect, he was no longer an ordinary passenger and would inevitably be subject to FBI investigation.

"A familiar taste," Eric thought to himself, but he knew now was not the time to speak.

Looking up ahead, Nancy and her team of flight attendants were already rushing toward their assigned cabin doors and emergency exits, while loudly directing the passengers who were frantically unfastening their seatbelts.

"Unfasten your seatbelts! Don't take your luggage! Quickly!"

What Eric found particularly absurd was that even in a life-or-death situation, some passengers were still trying to retrieve their luggage.

The folly of human nature is laid bare at this moment.

The flight attendant in charge of directing the passengers anxiously shouted, "Madam! Don't take your luggage! Please leave your seat immediately!"

Eric didn't care about any of that and quietly followed the passengers who had already rushed towards the exit.

These passengers are the ones who are clear-headed.

Nancy and another crew member quickly checked that there was no danger outside the cabin door, and then pulled the emergency inflation handle.

With a whoosh, the slide instantly inflated and unfolded, forming an escape route.

Cross your arms over your chest! Jump forward! Slide! Quickly!

One passenger after another fled in panic. Eric listened to Nancy's voice, crossed his arms and jumped forward, sliding through the expanding escape tunnel all the way to solid ground.

Once he got here, Eric finally felt that sense of control over his own destiny had returned.

All I could hear were screams and the piercing sirens of fire trucks.

Behind them, passengers tumbled down the slide like dumplings being dropped into a pot; some fell flat on their faces, while others were dragged away from the danger zone by firefighters.

Two firefighters in fluorescent yellow uniforms rushed forward, grabbed his shoulders, and quickly checked him for injuries.

"Can you walk? Are you injured? Let's gather over there!"

"Don't stop! Keep running! Get back to the cordon!"

Without the firefighters even reminding him, Eric shook his head to indicate that he was alright and immediately ran far away.

They ran toward the fire trucks and ambulances that were already waiting outside the cordon.

After all, the bomb was still on its countdown, and he dared not linger there for even a moment. He was a passenger, and everything else was no longer his concern.

After running at least 100 meters, he was led to an open area cordoned off with yellow warning tape.

Nurses were distributing silver life blankets to passengers slumped on the floor; some were shivering under the blankets, while others were dry heaving into vomit bags.

There was even a doctor who held down a middle-aged man who was breaking down in tears and quickly stuffed a sedative into his mouth.

This person is quite experienced in handling such cases.

Eric instinctively looked towards the plane.

Basically, everyone over there has been evacuated.

Perhaps due to the urgency of the situation and the fact that the initial bomb disposal was no longer effective, after the captain, flight attendants, and Bill were among the last to disembark, everyone scrambled to get away from the plane like a swarm of fleeing ants.

Before he could even get a chance to watch a show, a nurse suddenly stopped him, quickly scanned his pupils, and handed him a bottle of ice water.

"Take a deep breath and drink slowly. Do you feel dizzy or have chest pain?"

Eric shook his head, refusing her inspection, and simply stared intently at the plane.

In his calculations, only five seconds remained.

"Five, four, three, two, one, explode," Eric silently counted in his mind.

The next second, before his wide-open eyes, the plane finally exploded.

boom!
A deafening roar tore through the sky, and flames shot up from the tail of the plane as if it had exploded out of the center. A huge pillar of fire instantly engulfed the entire aircraft.

Black smoke billowed into the sky, forming a menacing mushroom cloud.

The shockwave swept across the entire airport like an invisible giant wall.

The crowd that was running just a second ago, as well as everyone who had been settled, including the FBI agents who were just setting up a screening point next to the medical triage area, were all frozen in place, staring blankly at the plane being engulfed in flames.

Eric licked his dry lips. The scene was indeed spectacular, but a sense of lingering fear also welled up inside him.

If this scene were to occur high in the air, he couldn't imagine how he would possibly survive under such conditions.

----------------

He survived, but was spectacularly quarantined.

Because the local FBI branch was involved.

While the FBI, ATF, and local police cordoned off the scene.

Eric was instructed to remain at the scene to cooperate with the investigation and was not allowed to leave.

Inside a temporary quarantine tent at an airport. "I heard you're a Los Angeles Police Department officer? What's your name, rank, and police number?"

The voice came from the man in front. Eric glanced at the badge below him and saw the name Moreno. He then spoke:
"Eric Stevens, LAPD West Canyon Precinct, Patrolman 3462."

Without a doubt, when he was assigned to this place, the two FBI agents must have already verified his identity.

At the same time, he is upright and honest, and has no need to back down from these guys who frighten ordinary people.

FBI agent Moreno, sitting across from Eric, exchanged a glance with his partner to confirm the information was correct, then suddenly looked up and asked, "Why are you on this flight?"

Eric calmly replied, "Do I need to answer that question?"

Moreno nodded: "We just need to confirm a few details."

"I'm going to see my girlfriend and also clear my head," Eric said helplessly, without revealing Tifa's identity.

"If you ask the Los Angeles Police Department, you'll find out that I even took a day off."

Moreno observed Eric, too lazy to delve into the details. He had seen the relevant videos, and without the young man's help, the flight would not have been resolved so easily.

Now it's just a matter of checking according to procedure. If there are no problems, this young man may even be posthumously awarded a medal.

He opened his notebook and took out a screenshot from a surveillance camera: "So, explain this photo. What did Air Marshal Bill Marks hand you in the aisle?"

Eric glanced around and realized that the situation here was quite similar to the police station's interrogation process.

Regardless of whether the truth is known or not, the process needs to be followed.

This is what procedural justice is all about.

Eric calmly stated, "A Sig Sauer P226. Air Marshal Bill has authorized me to assist under Article 12 of the Aviation Safety Emergency Plan."

Upon hearing this, Moreno suddenly changed the subject, observing Eric's reaction: "When you subdued the suspect, why did you choose to use grappling techniques instead of shooting?"

Eric said expressionlessly, "The cabin is a confined space, and a 9mm bullet could penetrate the skin and cause decompression."

Moreover, he only drew his gun at the time, which conforms to the principle of the hierarchy of the use of force.

Moreno's partner suddenly interjected, "You seem very familiar with aviation safety regulations?"

Eric glanced at it and said, “I’m a patrol officer. The LAPD conducts cross-departmental emergency training every year. We just practiced flight hijacking last August.”

Moreno and his companion exchanged a glance. This guy was truly meticulous; anyone who didn't know better would think this was just a drill.

But this is where it should end.

The reason behind this is quite simple: why was the suspect able to carry firearms and even bring a bomb onto the plane?

It was because he kidnapped the family members of the security personnel and then threatened them, ultimately allowing him to bring these dangerous weapons onto the plane.

By the time they arrived at the security personnel's home, all her family members had already died.

They even found a parachute in the suspect's luggage.

Therefore, the young man in front of us is a hero; without him, the consequences would be severe.

Moreno looked at Eric, silently took out a document from underneath, and handed it over: "Just sign it and that's it, Officer Eric. Thank you for your cooperation."

Eric looked at the document and found that in addition to the confidentiality agreement, there was also a certificate of recognition for the act of bravery.

The confidentiality agreement is simple: details of the incident must not be disclosed to media or social media platforms; a unified statement must be used when cooperating with official investigations; and the FBI has the right to subpoena him for further questioning at any time.
As for the certificate of recognition for acts of bravery, it is to commend his heroic act, present him with a Delta Air Lines lifetime gold card, and the government will issue a medal, etc.

Eric glanced at the two FBI agents and signed his name without much thought.

Because signing it means the matter is over, and he has nothing to do with it anymore.

As for Delta Air Lines lifetime gold cards, medals, and the like, these are all irrelevant.

He stopped taking airplanes from then on.

However, Eric is certain that the FBI has now begun a full review of his personal information.

You might know his illustrious history with the Los Angeles Police Department, his net worth, or even that his girlfriend Tifa works for the FBI, and so on.

But these things don't pose any obstacle to him; they're all aboveboard, so he can just accept it.

after an hour.

After being screened and reviewed, Eric, holding a potential witness statement, was shoved into a bus with the Delta logo on it.

Delta Airlines responded very quickly after this incident, reimbursing medical examination fees, giving the airline a lifetime gold card, and even arranging psychological counseling at the booked hotel.

They will also compensate passengers for all their current losses, but this only applies to luggage. As for subsequent compensation, given the nature of capital, it will likely be delayed indefinitely until it can no longer be delayed.

The car's air conditioning was on too high, making Eric shiver with cold, and the ground staff in the front seat was making an announcement in a cloyingly sweet voice.

"Dear valued guests, we have arranged accommodation at the local Marriott Hotel for you and provided you with a $500 emergency voucher..."

Even so, the ground staff in the front row and the passengers on the shuttle bus would occasionally glance at Eric, who was sitting quietly in the back seat.

Many people now know Eric's role on the plane.

Some people whispered their thanks to Eric, while others secretly handed him snacks as a token of their gratitude.

Just as Eric was struggling to refuse, Bill finally came to the rescue. As the car was about to leave, he suddenly opened the car door and jumped in.

He changed into a wrinkled polo shirt and smelled of cheap whiskey.

This attracted even more attention from the passengers, but Bill sat next to Eric as if it were nothing out of the ordinary.

"Are you going to the hotel too?" Eric whispered. Logically, Bill, as an air marshal, should be very busy right now.

Bill shook his head, took out a business card and handed it over: "I have resigned, so I am also a passenger, and I am entitled to these benefits and compensation."

Eric took the business card, which contained only a phone number.

"This is?"

“My private phone number,” Bill said calmly.

"I started a security company with some friends, so I take on any security business. If you need any, just give me a call, it's free."

Eric's lips twitched slightly; he sensed something amiss in those words.

The reason this guy became an air marshal is probably because he was hired by the government.

But the premise of hiring is trust. He has acquaintances in the government. Could this guy have worked for the government before, like McCall?

Eric muttered to himself, but did not refuse Bill's kindness. He wrote down the information on the business card and put it in his pocket.

He felt that the more friends with such extraordinary abilities as these, the better.

Arrived at the hotel.

Eric watched Bill leave, saying he was going back to see his daughter because her birthday was coming up.

Remembering Bill's invitation, Eric shook his head and followed behind some passengers as they slowly walked toward the hotel.

(End of this chapter)