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

Chapter 304 Alexander
Paris Charles de Gaulle Airport, Terminal 2.

The crowds were dense, and the noise created a muffled background sound in the high-ceilinged hall.

Eric strolled through the area, his goal clear: head straight for the U2 band billboard area.

If I'm not mistaken, that so-called Alexander's scout is probably still somewhere on the billboard, looking for prey.

Eric's gaze quickly settled on a row of seats diagonally opposite the billboard.

A man dressed in a denim jacket, white T-shirt, and jeans was sitting there, holding a newspaper in his hand, but his gaze was not on the newspaper. Instead, he would occasionally and seemingly unintentionally glance at the few young girls taking pictures in front of the billboard.

His posture appeared relaxed, but the assessment and searching in his eyes did not escape Eric's notice.

The man, supposedly named Alexander, was dressed exactly as he appeared in the photograph.

"Was this how Jinmi was secretly photographed?"

As Alexander put down his newspaper and took out his phone to secretly take pictures of the girls posing for photos with the billboard, Eric slowed down, seemingly checking the flight information screen, but his eyes were quickly scanning Alexander's surroundings out of the corner of his eye.

They specifically targeted Albanians.

Eric quickly found that there were four Albanians scattered in different locations.

They were dressed casually, some leaning against pillars playing on their phones, others leisurely sipping coffee, but there was an almost imperceptible exchange of glances between them.
Furthermore, their positions subtly formed a protective circle that allowed them to coordinate with each other and monitor the entire billboard area.

"Is this an action team?" Eric squinted.
"Doesn't look like it. Is it a protector?"

Having confirmed the number of enemies, Eric began walking towards Alexander, his gaze constantly shifting.

For some reason, there were more people at the airport today than the day he came before.

And most of them are young people.

Eric glanced at the U2 billboard and realized that U2 was probably a world-famous band, which was why so many people had come to see them.

Eric respected it, but he didn't really understand it.

Therefore, a large number of people means countless eyes, which is very troublesome.

Taking action directly in a crowded public place like an airport, where surveillance is everywhere, is clearly unwise. It would not only attract the attention of French law enforcement agencies, but also alert the perpetrators.

Eric continued walking without stopping, heading straight for Alexander.

"Hmm?" Alexander noticed someone approaching and just as he looked up, he saw a fleeting look of confusion in Eric's eyes.

Eric's right hand was already clenched into a knife shape, with his thumb tightly gripping the side of his index finger, forming a hard striking surface.

Without any warning, the movement was minimal.

The blow landed with pinpoint accuracy on the outer side of Alexander's neck, in the densely packed area of ​​the vagus nerve plexus behind the angle of his mandible.

"Uh!"

With a muffled groan choked deep in his throat, Alexander didn't even have time to see Eric's full face before he felt an indescribable pain and intense numbness on the side of his neck.

The intense nerve shock caused an instantaneous disruption of blood supply to the brain. Alexander felt as if the world before him was being swallowed by a swirling black curtain, and his consciousness drifted away like a kite with a broken string.

His arm holding the phone fell limply to his side, and his body slumped forward like a skeleton stripped of its bones.

Eric was already prepared; his left hand was already there, firmly supporting Alexander's limp body, while his right arm swiftly wrapped around Alexander's armpit, forming a seemingly supportive yet sturdy stance. The entire movement was fluid and happened in the blink of an eye; to the hurried passengers around them, it appeared as if the gentleman had suddenly fainted and been caught in time by his quick-thinking companion.

"Hang in there! I'll take you to a doctor!" Eric said anxiously, keeping his voice low enough for a few people nearby to hear him.

Sure enough, the few passengers sitting around glanced at it with a puzzled look, and then looked away.

Few people would meddle in other people's business.

Eric half-dragged and half-carried the completely unconscious Alexander toward the nearest men's restroom.

This sudden situation immediately alerted the four Albanian accomplices, like a pebble thrown into water.

Their expressions darkened slightly, and they quickly exchanged glances.

The two closest to him understood each other immediately and quickly followed Eric, their eyes turning fierce.

The other two followed at the back, cautiously scanning their surroundings as they slowly moved towards the restroom, ready to provide backup at any moment.

Eric caught a glimpse of the two men who had followed him, and watched as their hands unconsciously reached for their waists, but he felt nothing.

I'm not afraid of you finding out, I'm just afraid you won't follow.

Eric helped Alexander into the bathroom, quickly scanned the space, and found it empty for the time being.

Eric casually tossed Alexander aside like trash next to a cubicle, then turned and blocked the doorway from the inside.

The first Albanian rushed in, his face fierce, his right hand drawing something from his back waist.

But what greeted him was a powerful front kick from Eric, the sole of his shoe slamming into his abdomen.

Thud! A heavy, muffled sound.

The man's eyes instantly bulged bloodshot, all his breath was forcibly squeezed out of his lungs, turning into a painful whimper, and he was kicked away by Eric, flying and crashing into the wall behind him.

He vomited bile, and his whole body hunched over like a cooked shrimp as he knelt on the ground, motionless, his fate unknown.

The second man rushed in from behind, and upon seeing his companion's miserable state, his eyes changed. He reacted swiftly, drawing a switchblade that snapped open and gleamed coldly as it thrust towards Eric's abdomen.

In a cramped bathroom, there is extremely limited space to maneuver.

But Eric didn't retreat at all. Instead, he stepped forward to meet the attack head-on. Just as the blade was about to reach him, he precisely grabbed the wrist of the man holding the knife with his left hand and twisted it outward with force.

Crack! The crisp sound of a dislocated wrist bone.

"Ah!" The knife-wielder let out a short scream. The intense pain caused him to loosen his grip, and the switchblade clattered to the ground.

That wasn't all. Eric grabbed the wrist with his left hand and pulled it back sharply, disrupting the opponent's balance. At the same time, he bent his right elbow and delivered a swift, cannonball-like elbow strike from below, slamming it hard into the opponent's unprotected jaw!

boom!
The heavy impact sound mingled with the faint cracking of teeth.

The man's head was jerked back by the force of the blow, his eyes rolled back, and without uttering a sound, he lost consciousness and collapsed like a lump of mud.

After dealing with those two, Eric didn't pause for a moment. He hadn't forgotten about the two others, so he rushed out of the men's restroom and slipped into the outer entrance corridor.

The other two accomplices who were about to come in to provide support were clearly not expected Eric to be so fierce, taking down their two companions in such a short time and daring to take the initiative. The two men paused in their movements, a look of astonishment flashing across their faces.

(End of this chapter)