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

Chapter 348 Medical Center
Eric glanced at the equipment inside.

Compared to before, the weapons haven't actually been updated much.

First, he retrieved the Watcher Custom 2011, two spare magazines, and a bulletproof vest for himself.

Then he turned to the other side of the shelf and took out a set of equipment that belonged to Tifa.

The package includes a SIG P365 XL, a matching IWB internal holster, and a relatively lightweight women's body armor vest.

Although this preparation may seem exaggerated under normal circumstances, in special times, the more prepared you are, the safer you are.

No one can predict what will happen in the next second.

Eric handed over Tifa's gun, holster, and body armor.

Tifa quickly said into the phone, "Keep the call going, we're off now," while freeing her hand to take the gun and bulletproof vest.

Seeing Tifa put the bulletproof vest over her pajamas, Eric casually tossed her a light jacket over as well.

"Make sure the holster is secure, don't let it get stuck."

Tifa hummed in agreement, skillfully adjusted the holster to the most comfortable and convenient position on her waist, inserted the pistol, and locked it in place.

After confirming that Tifa was properly equipped, Eric then tidied himself up.

He also simply put the bulletproof vest over his pajamas, inserted the Watcher 2011 custom pistol into the quickdraw holster on his waist, and then picked up two spare magazines with his left hand, pressing them down to insert them into the magazine pouch on his waist.

Finally, he covered himself with a dark hoodie, and the last spare magazine slid into the hoodie's front pocket.

That concludes the equipment preparation.

Looking back at Tifa, she saw that Tifa had already begun the final packing. She stuffed her computer into her backpack and carefully put the USB drive containing the important list into her inner bag.

"Honey, that's enough."

Eric nodded slightly and smiled, "Then let's go."

-

Although San Pedro is also located in Los Angeles, it is still a bit far from downtown.

However, time was of the essence, so Eric chose to take a shortcut, which reduced the time to about ten minutes.

It's just tough on Tifa; the high-speed driving and various cornering techniques that adapt to changing terrain make the experience for the passenger quite different from that of the driver.

Eric parked the car steadily on the street in front of the Reese's house and glanced at Tiffany.

"Are you okay?"

“I’m fine, darling,” Tifa said, managing a weak smile as she shook her head.

“Okay!” Eric nodded.

"Let's go down."

Tifa nodded, and the two quickly got out of the car. They first spoke to the police officer guarding the area before heading towards the Reese's house.

The porch light was off, and only a faint light shone through the gap in the living room curtains, indicating that the people inside were not asleep.

As they stepped onto the steps and knocked, the door was pulled open a crack from the inside.

Lauren's pale and tense face appeared behind the door.

It's clear that she had been waiting behind the door the whole time, constantly observing through the peephole.

“Lauren!” Tifa said.

Seeing that Eric and Tifa had arrived so quickly, Lauren's tense expression eased slightly. She immediately stepped aside to make way and said somewhat anxiously.

"come on in!"

Eric and Tifa nodded and slipped inside, and Lauren quickly and deftly closed and locked the door.

In the dim light of the entryway, Lauren's face was frighteningly pale, and her fingers were trembling slightly. She didn't even bother to greet anyone; as soon as she opened her mouth, her voice choked.

"Rice is in the living room, in even more pain, and can't speak at all."

“Calm down, Lauren,” Tifa said, gently patting Lauren’s trembling shoulders.

"Let's go to the hospital together."

Eric frowned and walked out of the entryway straight into the living room, with Tifa following closely behind, leading Lauren inside.

Only a floor lamp was on in the living room. Rhys was curled up on the sofa, his body tense from intense pain, veins bulging on his forehead and neck, and cold sweat soaking his hair.

He was also making intermittent, suppressed groans from his throat.

This is already a very serious situation.

Eric strode over: "Rhys! Can you hear me? Nod or shake your head."

Rhys's tightly closed eyes trembled slightly, and he nodded with extreme difficulty, the movement so small it was almost invisible.

Upon seeing this, Eric quickly checked Reese's pupillary response. Both pupils were still responding to light, but the response was noticeably slow, and he had a pained expression.

This further confirms his suspicion that it might be a problem with the nervous system, rather than a simple functional headache.

Eric immediately stood up, exchanged a glance with Tifa, and without a word, they both understood that the seriousness of the situation far exceeded their expectations.

Without lingering, we went straight to the hospital.

Tifa asked Lauren to wake Jenny, and then came out carrying Jenny, who was half asleep and wrapped in a small blanket.

Startled by the tense atmosphere, the little girl woke up completely, staring anxiously at everything in front of her with wide eyes.

Eric then picked up Reese and led everyone towards the door.

It's a good thing he was driving a muscle car, otherwise he really couldn't have carried so many people.

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

A room with only walls covered in flashing global maps and data streams.

A technical analyst wearing a headset stared intently at one of the screens, which showed a GPS signal moving along a street in a suburban Los Angeles area.

Next to it is a file photo of Reese.

"The target has shown signs of movement, leaving its residence and is traveling at a normal speed towards the west of the city."

After a brief pause, he added, "Two signals were detected accessing the same communication node."

Identified as FBI Agent Tifa Allison.

Spencer Watts, who was about fifty years old and standing at the back, crossed his arms and raised his right hand to pinch his brow.

He didn't go back tonight; instead, he secretly assembled his own private command team in this operations center.

Because just now he tracked down Ben Edwards's whereabouts and then sent men to kill him.

Spencer glanced at the large screen in front of him. Originally, he hadn't sent anyone over because there were police officers guarding the main target, Reese's house.

Now we have the opportunity.

“Predict the destination,” Spencer said in a deep voice.

The analyst quickly typed on the keyboard, bringing up the path prediction algorithm: "Confidence level 87%, the target is heading to Stephenson Private Medical Center, a facility with full diagnostic capabilities, including MRI."

Spencer's heart sank as he recalled the report from his subordinate.

Did you speak to that FBI agent on the phone?

He couldn't help but think of other places, so now he had no choice but to send someone over.

“They may have realized the problem,” Spencer said in a deep voice.

"Is action necessary?"

Spencer nodded and said, "Get the second cleaner in place, and remember to make the scene look a bit unexpected."

"Understood. Coordinates have been sent. Contact is expected within fifteen minutes." "Keep the channel open. I need real-time updates."

----------

A dimly lit motel room.

The encrypted phone on the bedside table suddenly vibrated, the screen lit up, and displayed an encrypted message.

The man, who had been lying in bed with his eyes closed, opened them and reached out his calloused hand to pick up his phone.

After unlocking with fingerprint, a profile picture of a person appears on the screen; the portrait is James Reese.

Below is the possible location information, updated in real time.

A GPS signal point is moving steadily through a street grid in western Los Angeles.

The man scanned the key fields in the file expressionlessly:
Navy SEALs and other personnel, including additional instructions such as federal agent Tifa Allison being present to eliminate if necessary, but if encountered, the primary objective is to subdue and remove them.

This also includes the target object's address.

His gaze lingered for a moment on the red marker indicating the highest level of clearance, then he turned off the screen.

The man immediately got up, picked up the guitar case next to him, walked to the bathroom, turned on the tap, and under the cover of the sound of running water, took out a sealed weapon case from the ventilation duct.

Unzip it up, and inside is a disassembled HK416 rifle, two fully loaded magazines, and a Glock 19 with a silencer, among other things.

He skillfully inspected each component, assembled it, loaded it, then holstered the pistol in the holster on his lower back, and disassembled the rifle before putting it into the specially made guitar case next to him.

Finally, he took out three driver's licenses with different names from his wallet, thought for a moment, and chose the identity of Abel Jenkins.

Then, he took out a tranquilizer syringe and some other equipment that might be needed from his weapon bag.
After completing all the preparations, the man finally put on a baseball cap, slung his guitar bag over his shoulder, and wiped all the surfaces he might touch with a cleaning cloth he had prepared.

I turned off the lights, locked the door, walked to the parking lot, and started a dark gray Camry.

-

Stephenson Private Medical Center.

When Eric and his party arrived, Dr. Stephenson was already waiting at the door.

The elderly doctor, with white hair and wearing a white coat, looked at Reese, who was being helped and unable to move on his own, with a serious expression.

He already knew about Rhys's condition from the phone call, but he didn't expect it to be so serious.

"Go straight to the examination room." Dr. Stephenson said succinctly, without wasting any words, and turned to lead the way.

"I've already had the nurses prepare."

The corridor was unusually quiet, with only the sound of their hurried footsteps.

Inspection Room No. 3 is located at the end of the corridor. The shadowless lights are on inside, and various monitoring devices have been activated.

Eric and Tifa exchanged a glance and chose to stand aside, watching the nurse help Reese lie on the examination bed and connect the electrocardiogram monitoring electrodes.

"Blood pressure 190/110, heart rate 132."

Dr. Stephenson put on gloves and lifted Reese's eyelids to examine her pupils:
“The pupils are unequal in size, and the right pupil has a sluggish light reflex.” He turned to look at Lauren:

Has Rhys recently suffered a head injury?

"No." Lauren shook her head, her voice choked with emotion.

"I suddenly started having headaches, and they're getting worse and worse."

Dr. Stephenson, with a grave expression, continued his examination, taking out a brand-new percussion hammer and gently tapping the knee-jerk reflex zones on both sides of Rhys's body.

"There is a significant decrease in muscle strength on the right side..." Dr. Stephenson said to the nurse while examining the patient.

"Prepare for an intravenous injection of mannitol to reduce intracranial pressure, followed by a contrast-enhanced MRI scan of the head."

The nurse nodded and prepared the mannitol injection solution for intravenous infusion.

As Dr. Stephenson put on sterile gloves, he quickly explained to Lauren, Eric, and the others:

"His current condition suggests acute intracranial hypertension, accompanied by clear neurological signs."

Mannitol can quickly dehydrate and lower blood pressure, buying time for subsequent examinations…

Eric raised an eyebrow; although he wasn't a doctor, he understood the ins and outs of the matter.

Dr. Stephenson is clearly a skilled doctor; no wonder he can run a private medical center.

After saying that, Dr. Stephenson observed the data on the monitor and nodded to the nurse: "Vitality signs are temporarily stable. Transfer to the MRI room immediately."

I need to have a whole brain CT scan with contrast, focusing on the right temporoparietal lobe region.

The scan will take time; you can wait in the observation room next door.

Everyone nodded and followed Dr. Stephenson to the observation room next door.

Through the huge soundproof glass, you can see Ries being slowly fed into the circular scanner.

Lauren held Jenny's hand with one hand, her eyes fixed on the brain images that began to appear layer by layer on the auxiliary screen.

Tifa stood beside her, gently placing a hand on her shoulder to offer comfort.

Eric leaned casually against the wall, taking in the entire layout of the room and glancing at the fire evacuation map on the wall.

His gaze then swept over Jenny, whose face was buried deep in her mother's waist, and met the little girl's large eyes, which were nervously peeking at him.

Eric smiled at her.

-

A Camry was parked a block away from Stephenson Medical Center.

The man, using the alias Abel Jenkins, glanced expressionlessly in the direction of the medical center, took out a ruggedized tablet, and the screen lit up, displaying the architectural structure diagram of the medical center transmitted from the command center.

The drawings clearly indicate the functions and passageways of each floor, as well as the locations of the most important electrical distribution room and MRI area.

He noted down the key information, got out of the car, moved to the trunk, took out his guitar bag, put it on his back, and slowly approached the medical center.

Upon arriving at his destination, Abel did not head towards the brightly lit main entrance, which might be equipped with surveillance cameras, but instead turned directly into a dimly lit alley on the east side of the building.

Several trash cans were piled up in the alley, and there was a faint smell of disinfectant in the air.

With a clear goal in mind, Abel walked toward a gray metal door marked "Employee Passage, No Unauthorized Personnel Allowed."

The door has an electronic lock.

He took a palm-sized electronic decoder from the side pocket of his guitar bag and attached it to the card reader area.

The numbers on the screen scrolled rapidly, and a few seconds later, the green light flashed, accompanied by a soft click, and the door lock popped open.

Inside the door was a dimly lit logistics corridor. Abel slipped inside and, guided by the blueprints he remembered and the faint green light of the distant emergency exit, moved forward as if he knew the lines on his own palm.

Turn left at the end of the passage and walk towards the underground corridor that connects to the main building.

This was his first target: the main power distribution room located in the middle of the corridor.

At the entrance to the power distribution room, there was also an electronic lock. Abel used the decoder again, and the door opened.

The electrical distribution room was filled with switches and buzzing wires.

He easily located the main power switch, but instead of turning it off, he took out a magnetic circuit breaker from his toolbox and attached it to the control line of the backup generator.

In this way, the main power supply is cut off, the backup power supply cannot be started, and the MRI is forced to stop abruptly.

Ready.

Abel reached out his hand and pulled down the main power switch.

A low hum echoed from the building's power system, followed by the instantaneous shutdown of all lights and the abrupt cessation of equipment operation, plunging the building into a deathly darkness.

A few seconds later, only a few pale green emergency lights lit up at the end of the corridor, providing negligible illumination.

In the darkness, Abel Jenkins, expressionless, retrieved the silenced Glock 19 pistol from the main compartment of his guitar case.
(End of this chapter)