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

Chapter 338 Encountering the Attackers Again

Los Angeles.

San Pedro MacArthur Avenue.

Tifa's voice came from inside a car: "Sir, have you received my report?"

Eric sat in the driver's seat, maneuvering the rented car, and glanced at Tifa.

Tifa is still Tifa; once she gets busy, she enters that workaholic state.

After discovering that the three men who attacked her belonged to Camp Pendleton, she decisively used her FBI identity to initiate a federal investigation.

In her words.

She doesn't need a complete chain of evidence; simply stating that the FBI GS-13 chief agent or senior profiler was attacked by an active-duty military member is enough.

This constitutes the initial conditions for attacking federal officials and domestic terrorism, and an FBI agent at the GS-13 level is no small fry; they have full authority to initiate and lead the investigation.

They have the authority to approve certain investigative actions, sign legal documents, and independently decide the direction of investigations. They can even directly mobilize and command lower-ranking agents (GS-12 and below), and have the authority to apply for and use higher-level technical surveillance and reconnaissance resources.

Moreover, the evidence was very compelling: videos recorded at his home and official photos from the scene that he obtained through connections from the LAPD, including three clear photos of his face.

So Aaron, the head of the BAU department, was completely baffled when he saw what Tifa sent him early in the morning.

He couldn't understand how a simple task to assist the Naval Crime Investigation Service (NCIS) had turned into this.
Military soldiers came to attack?

He looked at the computer screen and frowned. Regardless, the nature of this kind of thing was still very sensitive.

“Tifa, do you understand what this means? This will alarm the Department of Justice.”

Aaron held his phone in one hand, lowered his voice, and hesitated:

“Listen, before you submit your formal report, I need to know your judgment: was this a premeditated attack, or something else?”

“Aaron, this is an active-duty soldier,” Tifa said.

Aaron choked, pursed his lips, stared at the computer screen in thought for a moment, and finally said:

"Alright, what do you want to do?"

“I sent letters to the Naval Criminal Investigative Service (NCIS) and Camp Pendleton, requesting them to provide the complete personnel files, financial records, and duty records of the three active-duty soldiers in the name of the federal case in which I was attacked.”

The military is an independent system. Under normal circumstances, even the FBI can only find the names, IDs, and origins of Marines.

To obtain detailed information, a sufficient reason is required.

Aaron was silent for a few seconds on the other end of the phone, clearly thinking, but soon after, a reply came.

"Okay, I can sense that you've been caught in a complicated vortex."

He paused for a moment: "If this was indeed a premeditated attack, you should be careful."

Upon hearing this, Tifa couldn't help but glance at Eric's handsome profile as he gripped the steering wheel, a slight smile playing on her lips, radiating a sense of security.

“I understand, which is why I followed the procedure and put this matter on the table. Once it is officially filed in the federal system, those people will have to think twice before they try to take any action.”

"Do you need local support?" Aaron asked.

“I can coordinate with agents from the Los Angeles field office.”

“I hope the reinforcements aren’t here to seize command,” Tifa said.

"I understand what you mean," Aaron said helplessly.

"I will only provide you with eyes and shields, but I will not interfere with your investigation."

“Thank you, sir!” Tifa said.

Eric smiled slightly. Why did Tifa look a bit like him?

Upon hearing this, Aaron's face showed a speechless expression. "You just called me Aaron?"

"Are you sure we don't need to send anyone from the team?"

Tifa's mind flashed through the team members' information; each of them had outstanding skills, but Tifa shook her head.

"No, I can't let my friends get dragged into this mess before things are clear."

Aaron took a deep breath: "Alright, let me know if you need anything else, and keep communication open."

"Yes, sir!" The call ended, and Tifa put down her phone, letting out a rare sigh of relief.

"Is it over?" Eric looked over and smiled.

“Hmm,” Tifa said.

"Honey, our first firewall has been successfully established."

At this point, Tifa paused, then smiled and said:
"At that time, I will formally write to the Los Angeles Police Department, citing your role as the first responder at the scene of the attack, requesting that Agent Stevens be seconded to assist in the investigation."

Eric smiled, understanding Tifa's meaning. If the attack case were established, not only would they have the autonomy, but any further attacks on Tifa would cause a bigger commotion, and it wouldn't just be a matter for Tifa alone.

This is the benefit of using the FBI to bring the investigation into the open and transparent.

Furthermore, from this point on, the nature of the operation to meet that lieutenant changed from a private investigation to an official operation endorsed by the FBI, making the security incomparable to what it used to be.

“They should start fixing the loopholes,” Eric laughed.

“Every step leaves a trace. From the moment the first loophole appears, they are destined to never be able to fix all the loopholes,” Tifa said.

Eric nodded in agreement, slowed down slightly, and looked at a gray-white house half-hidden by oak trees in the distance.

"Here we are."

Tifa followed Eric's gaze, narrowing her eyes. The key to breaking through this whole affair was Lieutenant James Reese.

Eric slowly parked the car on the street in front of the gray-white house, glancing at it habitually but frowning.

"Something seems wrong."

Tifa paused for a moment.

“The lawn has children’s toy cars and climbing ladders, which means that lieutenant is married,” Eric said.

Tifa immediately noticed something was wrong, because all the curtains in front of the house were drawn tightly shut.

This seemed extremely unusual on this Los Angeles morning.

Moreover, this applies to families with children.

The two exchanged a glance and tacitly unbuckled their seatbelts.

Eric took the Beretta M9A3 from his holster, flicked the hammer to produce a crisp cocking sound, and quickly checked the magazine and chamber.

“You stay here for now,” Eric said, looking at Tifa who seemed to want to go with him.

"If there are no problems, I'll call you again."

Tifa pursed her lips, hesitating slightly, but still obediently nodded under Eric's gaze:
"it is good."

She was a smart woman and understood that going back to the past might only be a hindrance, even though she emotionally wanted to fight alongside them.
"Be careful, dear!"

Eric smiled, opened the car door, got out, and casually looked around.

nobody.

Looking at the house in front of us, it is a single-story, low-rise building with no second floor and a garage next door.

Instead of heading towards the main entrance, Eric strolled along the edge of the lawn like an ordinary visitor, his gaze casually sweeping over the house facade, windows, and adjacent garage.

The layout of the single-story, low-rise house was immediately apparent, but all the curtains were drawn. Eric's gaze narrowed slightly as he naturally turned to the lawn to the left of the house and continued circling it.

In addition to the front, single-story houses like these usually have wooden fences about one and a half meters high on the left and right sides and the backyard as a barrier, separating the backyard from the neighbors along the property line.

Eric walked quietly to the small door on the left side of the wall on the front of the house, reached out and twisted it, but couldn't open it.

He took a step back to run up, jumped, grabbed the top of the wall, and pulled himself up with both arms.

Before fully sticking your head out, first align your line of sight with the top of the wall and quickly scan it.

The side path and backyard were deserted.

Eric continued to exert force, pulling his body upwards until his waist was above the top of the wall. With a light twist, he faced the wall and swung his body downwards like a pendulum.

Hanging vertically, I released my hands, and landed on both feet simultaneously with my knees slightly bent, perfectly absorbing the impact.

There was no sound.

Eric pulled out his Beretta M9A3, held it in CAR mode, and moved along the wall.

Once he got there, Eric could already hear what was happening inside.

The suppressed shouts of a man, and the sobs of a child.

"If you're smart enough, you'll know what's going on."

"Please, don't hurt the child," the woman pleaded, her voice trembling with despair.

"Then don't waste our time! Where does he usually keep his gun?"

Having confirmed the presence of enemies and hostages inside the house, Eric glanced at the half-open vent on the side wall.

It looks like there's a bathroom inside.

Eric silently holstered his Beretta M9A3, then used the drainpipe and windowsill along the wall to climb up, gripping the windowsill tightly with his fingers as he did a pull-up, his gaze sweeping across the room.

There was no one there; the bathroom door was ajar.

"It's in the safe next to the workbench in the garage."

"A safe?" a rough, hoarse male voice rang out.
"What's the password? Don't try anything funny!"

“I…I don’t know, Rhys never…” The woman’s voice was filled with helplessness.

Eric carefully pushed the air vent open a little, then focused his core and slipped into the window like a slippery shadow. His powerful core strength allowed him to make no sound as his feet landed lightly on the dry bathroom floor.

"Mommy! Waaah!" The little girl's voice suddenly rang out, which amplified the pressure.

“Don’t touch her! He might have used our wedding anniversary, 1103! Or Jenny’s birthday, 1021! That’s all I know, really!” The woman began to blurt out possible codes rapidly.

A rough, hoarse male voice rang out again: "Go to the garage and try these two passwords. If you can't open them..." He didn't finish his sentence, but the threat was palpable in the air.

Upon landing, Eric drew his gun again, holding it tightly in front of his chest using the CAR grip, and silently approached the bathroom door.

Through the crack in the door, from a different angle, the view of the living room in front is clearly visible.

A tall man stood with his back to the bathroom, staring at a mother and daughter curled up together on the floor.

Another gaunt man with a gun stood in the center, facing the kitchen.

They all wore hoods to cover their faces.

Based on the conversation, there should be a third person in the garage.

In a flash, Eric slid out of the bathroom door, the gun that had been tightly tucked in front of his chest being thrust forward rapidly along his body's central axis.

boom!
A deafening gunshot suddenly rang out in the closed living room!

The bullet was fired from the fully extended barrel and struck the thin man facing the kitchen squarely on the side of his head.

He stumbled forward a step and then fell to the ground.

In the instant the muzzle flashed, Eric's gun had already locked onto the second target.

The other party reacted incredibly quickly. Hearing the explosion behind him, he grabbed his pistol with his right hand, turned his head toward the source of the threat, and his eyes were filled with a mixture of shock and ferocity.

boom!
The second bullet pierced the air, entering his right temple. The impact of the bullet caused his head, which had not yet fully turned, to be violently flung to the other side, and a spray of blood and bone fragments exploded in the air.

The tall body lost all support and crashed heavily onto the floor with a thud due to the inertia of its rotation.

Lauren, curled up on the ground, finally reacted, letting out a choked gasp. She abruptly closed her eyes, pressed her daughter Jenny's face tightly against her chest, and her whole body trembled violently.

at the same time.

Tifa, who was waiting in her car by the street, heard two clear and deafening gunshots coming from inside the house. She held her breath, leaned forward instinctively, and stared intently at the entrance of the house with her bright blue eyes.

Her hand unconsciously tightened around the car door handle, her knuckles turning white.

In the garage, a third man stood in front of the safe, preparing to try the second combination, when the continuous gunshots made him freeze, a look of surprise flashing in his eyes.

He drew his pistol from his waist with his right hand, lowered his center of gravity, and fixed his gaze on the door connecting to the house. With a standard angled firing stance, he silently approached the doorway.
Eric ignored everything in the living room, used the recoil to quickly recover, turned around and glided towards the garage.

It only stopped after it was attached to the wall next to the door leading to the garage.

As soon as he regained his footing, Eric heard the faint sound of someone adjusting their breathing inside.

He could sense that the other party was using the door frame as an axis to begin a standard corner-cutting process.

Eric glanced at the blind spot formed by the narrow doorway and the wall in front of it, where there was no angle or space to support the angle. After thinking for a moment, he silently put the Beretta M9A3 back into its holster.

The conditions are different now than last night, and if possible, he still wants to spare someone's life.

As he expected, a few seconds of deathly silence followed.

Gun muzzle, hand, forearm, elbow. The side profile of the other person's body, like a slow-motion shot being pushed into the camera, was gradually squeezing into his field of vision.

The silence was instantly broken as Eric's left hand shot out from below, swiftly positioning itself under the opponent's elbow and lifting it upwards, disrupting the opponent's aiming axis and forcibly raising the muzzle so that it pointed towards the ceiling.

The third person felt a powerful force coming from below, and his entire arm holding the gun was lifted up uncontrollably.

In his shock, his index finger, which was on the trigger, tightened instinctively.

boom!
The bullet hit the ceiling.

At the same instant the gun fired, Eric lunged forward, taking advantage of the opening where his opponent's arm was raised and his body was wide open, and delivered a vicious low side kick with his right leg, striking the side of his opponent's knee, which was supporting his leg.

Crack! A teeth-grinding cracking sound rang out as the knee joint dislocated due to the massive lateral impact.

"Ugh!" The third person let out a short, painful groan, and his whole body slumped uncontrollably to the side.

To Eric's surprise, the other man exuded a ruthless aura. In the instant he lost his balance, he suddenly released his grip on the gun with his left hand and grabbed Eric's face and eyeball.

At the same time, he stubbornly tried to press the muzzle down.

Eric tilted his head to the right, and the other man's fingers brushed against his temple and cheekbone. The other man's left hand, which had been supporting the other man's gun-wielding arm, moved down and gripped the ulnar styloid process of the other man's gun-wielding wrist, his thumb digging hard into the tendon gap.

The third person felt a sharp pain in his wrist, and felt his entire hand instantly lose sensation. He could no longer control the pistol he was holding, and it fell to the ground with a clatter.

He completely lost his balance, but the ferocity in his eyes intensified, tinged with madness, as his left hand viciously grabbed at Eric's throat once more.

Eric's eyes remained calm, and his reaction was even faster. The moment the opponent's left hand grabbed, his right arm had already moved upward to block, striking the inside of the opponent's wrist and cutting off its trajectory.

Doors wide open!

Eric used the parry to pull back his arm, then used his waist and hips to power his elbow, which slammed into his opponent's exposed jaw as he lost his balance.

boom!
The rising elbow strike landed solidly, the impact transmitted through the jaw to the brain, instantly dimming the fierce light in the third person's eyes, their consciousness plunging into darkness under the heavy blow.

Before he could even utter another sound, he was struck and thrown backward, falling back down the steps of the garage behind.
(End of this chapter)