North American Patrol: American Iaido

Chapter 71 071 Let's go somewhere else?

West Canyon Police Department.

7:30 p.m.

After changing his clothes in the locker room, Talibor led his intern partner, Valeria, down the central corridor leading out of the police station.

"You should be glad you don't have to work overtime tonight," he said, glancing at Valeria, who stood a step behind him.

"I bet you're really grateful to me right now that you're able to go out and have some fun!"

Valeria simply smiled, her thoughts remaining unreadable.

"Yes, sir, I have always been grateful for your guidance."

"clever."

Talibor withdrew his gaze, led Valeria to the middle, stopped at the doorway on the right, and peered inside.

A large, muscular figure, whose layers of muscles could not be concealed even by his police uniform, sat at a plastic table, frowning as he scribbled on a report.

"See? This is the consequence of disobedience," Tareb said, making no attempt to hide his voice.

Valeria simply kept smiling.

Yorke turned around and gave Talibor the international sign.

"Get out of here right now."

"See? This is what it means to be enraged," Talibo continued.

"We must never follow his example. Controlling your emotions is the most important thing. Only then can you become a good patrol officer."

Valeria stood behind and nodded slightly.

When Yorke tried to take things further, Talibor simply took Valeria and slipped away, leaving him no room to maneuver.

"That damn guy!"

Yorke shook his head and looked back at the report on the table.

His job as a patrolman was essentially over once he assisted the detective team in apprehending the suspect.

After all, he had done everything he was supposed to do all day, such as searching, setting up cordons, and maintaining order. But what he shouldn't have done was use the PIT (Pick-Up) technique while chasing the suspect.

This is a pursuit tactic. Using this technique, the pursuing vehicle can force the fleeing car to suddenly swerve, causing the driver to lose control and come to a stop.

That's why he chose to crash into the right rear of the Toyota 86, causing the suspect to swerve and lose control, thus stopping the vehicle.

Unfortunately, he didn't control his speed and crashed very hard due to excessive speed.

So the result was that he, as the person in charge of driving, had to take responsibility for the matter and stay to write a report, while Gino was kicked out of get off work by Orja on the pretext of a concussion.

"I also had a concussion!"

York complained as he scribbled down the approximate process on the report with his small pen.

To get the police to take responsibility for this, a report is a must; otherwise, he'll have to pay for the damage from the collision, and that damned Orja will definitely do it.

Time, location, and participants.

"Time: [Date], from [Time] to [Time]"

Location: Intersection of Trelly Street and Collinwick neighborhood.

The course of events.

"."

"I saw the suspect about to break out of the encirclement. As the suspect tried to escape in his car, I decisively used the pit stop technique based on police regulations, the actual situation at the scene, my own judgment and experience. With the assistance of my colleagues, I successfully stopped the suspect's vehicle."

After finishing the report, Yorke picked it up and carefully checked it over, making sure that Orha, who had been quite annoyed with him lately, couldn't find any fault with it. Yorke nodded in satisfaction, picked up the perfect report, and went to Orha's office to hand it over.

"Let's go, Cirillo."

Yorke glanced at another civilian colleague from the police station, greeted him, and then left the office with a smile and a nod, heading towards Orja's office.

The West Canyon Police Station is not as lively at night as it is during the day, since no one wants to work the night shift.

However, because Los Angeles is more dangerous at night than during the day, the West Canyon Police Department maintains a certain level of patrol, with roughly equal numbers of officers patrolling in the morning, afternoon, and evening shifts.

Of course, this is thanks to the police station having enough personnel; otherwise, there would definitely be fewer patrol officers on duty at night than in the morning.

While greeting his many colleagues who were on night duty, Yorke unknowingly arrived at the door of Orha's office.

"cough!"

Yorke straightened up and knocked on the tightly closed door in front of him.

A cold voice said, "Come in!"

Yorke opened the door, and under the watchful eye of Orja, who was sitting at his desk, went up to him, handed him the report, and said loudly.

"Sir! This is my duty report for today!"

Orja sat there, the dim light illuminating his bald head, which had only a few strands of hair remaining, but his imposing figure still exuded an air of authority.

Orha gave Yorks, who was sitting in front of him with a cold glance, picked up the report in front of him and scanned it. Second after second passed, and he looked at it very carefully.

"I heard you were the one who discovered this case?"

Orha couldn't find anything wrong, so he put down the documents and reports and looked at York.

Yorke straightened his back and looked straight ahead: "Yes, sir! Because the suspect is targeting my friend's friend! And I just happened to see the mark he left at the door! This is obviously very suspicious!"

Orha looked at it for a while and then asked, "Can I ask you a question?"

Yorks' expression remained unchanged: "Sir, what are you saying?"

"Would you like to go to the detective agency or somewhere else?" Orha said calmly. "The officers there appreciate your talent and say you played a significant role in the two recent cases."

Orja spoke calmly, but anyone could tell he was serious.

"With your abilities, you are indeed wasting your talents here, York. Outstanding people will eventually be discovered by the world. No one is a fool. The important thing is that it seems there is nowhere left for you to learn."

Yorke narrowed his eyes slightly: "Sir, please give me some time to consider!"

Upon hearing this, Orha shook his head and stared at Yorke seriously, saying, "Give me an answer in a month! I need an explanation, so they won't keep saying I haven't released him."

Yorke answered loudly, "Yes, sir!"

"Go home." Orha put the documents and reports into the drawer, waved his hand, and started to shoo people away.

"Yes, sir!"

Yorke turned and left.

But then Orha's voice came from behind: "You'll have a day off after get off work tomorrow, and get ready to relieve your colleagues who will be working the night shift."

Yorke raised an eyebrow, responded, and left Orha's office.

-

One of the neighborhoods at Lincoln Avenue and Broadway.

A private garage next to a detached villa automatically opened its curtain door, and an Fl50 Raptor drove in.

The sound of jet brakes rang out, and the car door opened, revealing York's imposing figure.

Yorke glanced habitually at the curtain door at the back of the garage, and only after it was closed tightly did he pick up what he needed from the car and get out.

In the past, he would have felt tired after a whole day of running around, but he actually enjoys this kind of life, which involves improving his physical attributes day after day as a patrolman.

(End of this chapter)