American Medicine: I survived the death knell thanks to the devil.

Chapter 86 Strike Operation

Ford Taurus.

The most common used vehicles in the New York Police Department's used car market after retirement.

Inexpensive, understated, with a dark interior that makes it difficult to see inside from the outside. Tracking and surveillance are standard features.

"Don't move, wait for him to make the first move."

2:47 AM.

Victoria rolled over in her sleep, and the cashmere blanket slipped halfway down her shoulders.

At 3:04 AM, Sachi's message arrived.

"The car door opened. The target was a white male, early forty, of medium build, wearing a gray work jacket and a Yankees baseball cap. He was moving toward the corner convenience store."

The second one will be announced in 30 seconds.

"The license plate was captured; it's from New York State. He has a recurring left knee injury and tends to lean to the right when walking."

Lynn pieced these fragments together in his mind.

They have left the system, but have retained their full set of professional training.

The intelligence matched perfectly with the hacker's.

Lynn stood up.

He took two items out of his backpack, which he had left in the entryway.

A pair of gray nitrile gloves.

One pre-filled syringe, 10 mg diazepam.

First-line medication for controlling manic episodes in the emergency room.

Intravenous injection takes effect in 30 seconds, while intramuscular injection can render a person incapacitated within two minutes.

Sometimes, this thing is more useful than a gun.

He tucked the syringe inside the cuff of his sweatshirt, with the needle cap facing upwards, and secured it with medical tape.

You can touch it with your hand, and there's nothing unusual about it from the outside.

When not removed, the needle cap can prevent pricking.

When you take it out, the tape will tear off the needle cap, and it's ready to use immediately.

He was very skilled at performing these movements.

When encountering violent patients during the emergency room night shift, the staff on duty are all very discreet.

He sent Sachi a final message: "I'm going down to confirm visually. Keep your distance and wait for my signal."

3:11 AM.

Lynn bent down and pulled the cashmere blanket back onto Victoria's shoulder.

He paused for half a second the moment his fingers touched her collarbone.

Then I walked back to the entrance, put on my backpack, put on my mask, and unlocked the door.

Lynn exited through the fire escape in the underground parking garage, making it easy to get around to the back alley.

It was a little after 3 a.m. in Manhattan.

The air was filled with the chill of early spring and the rusty smell of sewers. In the distance, a bakery was preheating its oven, and a faint aroma of wheat wafted through the air.

Lynn walked along East 74th Street, following the shadow of the building.

Head down, hands in pockets, steps slightly weary.

The Ford Taurus was parked on the side of the road diagonally opposite the convenience store.

Less than thirty meters away, a quick glance revealed the man in the driver's seat looking down at his phone, a steaming cup of coffee in his right hand.

There was an open black hard-shell box on the passenger side, and the glass of the telephoto lens reflected a glint of light.

There was a dark-colored briefcase in the back seat.

Lynn went into the convenience store and bought a bottle of soda.

He then pushed open the door and went out.

He adjusted his breathing, his shoulders slumped slightly, and his eyes took on a dull and feverish look, a look born from long-term sleep deprivation and being drained by a massive amount of medical records.

Thus, a typical image of a medical nerd with an extreme lack of social boundaries was created.

He walked straight to Taurus.

The man in the car instantly became alert, and his right hand slid down to his waist with lightning speed.

Lynn stopped outside the car window, raised the soda and waved it, revealing a slightly hesitant look in her eyes.

He knocked on the car window.

The car window was lowered by a two-centimeter gap.

A hoarse Queens accent, laced with coldness, said, "Get out of my way, buddy. I'm waiting for someone!"

Excuse me.

Lynn spoke very quickly, with an excited, occupational hazard kicking in.

"I'm an intern in the orthopedics department at Mount Sinai Hospital. I was observing your walking posture carefully at the convenience store earlier."

The man narrowed his eyes slightly, his hand still clenched around his weapon.

"Your left knee meniscus definitely has a serious old tear, and your medial collateral ligament is also in a high-risk condition."

""

Lynn continued chattering as if he hadn't noticed anything, and even moved closer to the front.

"And you will experience compensatory hip external rotation every four steps."

"Dude, the nerve compression in your L4-L5 segment is extremely severe."

Ten meters away, the shadows slithered.

Like a ghost in the night, Sachi silently cuts into Taurus's blind spot.

Inside the carriage, the man's eyes flickered.

He took a closer look at the ordinary Asian youth outside the car.

A cheap hoodie, dark circles under his eyes, wearing a medical mask, and spouting technical jargon.

His eyes revealed the foolish enthusiasm of someone who had just started clinical practice and wanted to give every stray dog ​​on the street a checkup.

"Judging from your actions just now, you must have been curled up in this low-chassis Taurus for at least five hours today."

Lynn pointed to the car door with a pained expression.

"This sitting posture is devastating to your lower limb nerve reflexes. If you continue to delay, you will completely lose the motor function of your right leg."

Five meters away.

Sachi stayed close to the wall, avoiding the glare of the streetlights, his steps as light as a cheetah.

The corner of the man's mouth twitched very slightly.

Having spent years navigating the gray areas, he had become accustomed to drug dealers, thugs, police officers—all sorts of dangerous individuals.

Unfortunately, they overlooked a bookish nerd who was getting off work late at night and whose compassion for doctors was overflowing.

His taut right hand loosened from his waist and returned to the steering wheel.

"Listen, kind doctor."

The man's tone softened somewhat, even carrying a hint of helpless mockery.

"I'm in excellent condition; you should go and save someone else."

"Your situation is extremely bad."

Lynn stubbornly reached into her hoodie pocket.

"I brought my business card. You must come tomorrow to register, and I'll give you an expedited MRI form—"

""

Sachi and Taurus were only one meter apart —

He pressed his body against the right rear side of the vehicle, his left hand, gloved with tactical gloves, slowly hovering above the door handle.

The man completely lowered his guard.

He sighed, even finding the incessantly chattering intern in front of him somewhat comical.

"Okay, give me your business card." The man rolled down the car window halfway and extended his left hand.

Just a fraction of a second before the man's fingertips touched Lynn's pocket.

The nerd's facade crumbled instantly.

Lynn's left hand moved like a venomous snake emerging from its hole, gripping the man's left wrist with terrifying precision.

Apply pressure with your thumb to precisely crush the median nerve distal to the radial styloid process.

The man's arm went numb instantly, and he couldn't even scream.

At the same instant.

"Click".

The right rear door was ripped open with absolute force.

Sachi's massive body crashed violently into the carriage.

Her 87-kilogram weight was transformed into pure kinetic energy. Her left arm tightened around the man's neck like a steel hoop, while her right knee pressed firmly against the man's L4-L5 lumbar vertebrae.

This is precisely the fatal weakness that Lynn has just diagnosed.

The excruciating pain and suffocation occurred simultaneously.

The man was pinned to the driver's seat, completely limp.

Lynn flipped his free right hand out of his sleeve and flicked his thumb off the pin cap.

The cold needle tip pressed firmly against the man's right external jugular vein.

"Stay still." Lynn's voice returned to its extreme coldness and calmness.

"The syringe contains 10 milligrams of diazepam. Inject it into your vein, and you will lose consciousness within thirty seconds."

"Your liver has extremely poor metabolism, and only I can precisely control the dosage to ensure you don't experience respiratory arrest."

The man's eyes widened, and pure fear finally surfaced in them.

He is extremely professional.

To avoid being tracked, he specifically chose this spot, which perfectly avoided the blind spots of all the street corner cameras.

This perfect blind spot has now become the perfect grave for him.

He personally created an impenetrable space for Lynn and Satch to make their move.

"It's up to you now." Lynn pulled out the syringe and let go.

With a precise carotid artery compression, the man instantly lost consciousness.

The veteran deftly dragged the limp body to the passenger seat, then climbed into the driver's seat, shifted gears, and accelerated.

Taurus silently slipped into the night, heading towards an abandoned factory on the edge of the Bronx.