Under the watchful eyes of the adorable Girl Scouts, Nolan, surprisingly unleashed astonishing speed. Although he stumbled a bit, he managed to keep up with Jack's pace.
Jack didn't use his full strength, keeping one hand on the holster at his waist, his eyes fixed on the dreadlocked man, maintaining utmost vigilance. That's how street patrols are; who knows if so irrational guy will suddenly pull out a piece and fire a shot.
Even so, the dreadlocked man, clutching his belongings, was frantically trying to escape, and the chase was getting closer and closer. When he looked back one last ti and saw that the two patrol officers were less than 5 ters away, he made a quick turn, trying to cross the road to escape, and unsurprisingly crashed into a blue Accord.
With a long screech of brakes, the dreadlocked man smashed through the windshield, half his body embedded in the driver's seat.
"He suddenly rushed out, I didn't an to!" A female driver jumped out of her car in a panic, looking quite frightened.
"Command center, this is 7-A-26, requesting fire and ergency services. Paltto and Mateo Avenue, head stuck in a car, imdiate action."
Jack called out over the radio while climbing into the driver's seat to check on the dreadlocked man's injuries.
Blood gushed out with each heartbeat, clearly indicating a serious situation.
"Looks like a glass shard cut the artery in his upper arm. Hey, don't move, idiot! If I don't stop the bleeding, you'll bleed to death in minutes."
Jack gripped the dreadlocked man's arm tightly, frantically searching for anything to stop the bleeding.
"Here, you can make a tourniquet with this scarf and this pen."
A cute little girl appeared out of nowhere, offering Jack her red scarf and a pen.
"Five centiters above the wound," the little girl instructed.
Jack deftly tightened the scarf, tied a knot, then inserted the pen, twisting it twice forcefully until the scarf dug into the flesh, stopping the arterial bleeding.
"Thank you, little cutie, for saving this idiot's life." Jack high-fived the little girl with his blood-free hand.
"Can I get a Girl Scout badge?"
"Uh…" Jack, caught off guard, cast a pleading look at Kara behind her.
....
After dealing with another car accident scene, the two said goodbye to Kara and her lovely Girl Scouts, carrying the boxes of free cookies they had given them, and continued their patrol.
"So you know absolutely nothing about Girl Scouts?" Nolan looked sowhat surprised.
Jack glanced at him sideways, thinking to himself.
"I don't know much. I only know that the Girl Scouts sell cookies."
This remark silenced Nolan, who finally managed a muffled retort: "I wasn't like that back then."
Feeling he might have gone too far, Jack tried to explain, "I didn't an that, it's just that my parents didn't let participate."
Nolan shook his head, indicating he didn't mind: "Actually, I only went to sumr camp once and didn't get a badge."
"But these cookies are surprisingly good. Why don't you try so?" Jack opened a box and ate one.
Nolan also opened a box, raising an eyebrow: "Indeed, I should ask Kara for a recipe."
Of course, cookies aren't a proper al, so Jack generously shared his homade Shumai.
The stewed beef brisket, cooked until tender, is cut into small pieces, paired with so crisp pickled bamboo shoots, wrapped with glutinous rice soaked in the beef brisket broth, and then wrapped in a thin layer of dough. Shaped, it's stead, and a Japanese pastry made primarily with Western ingredients is complete..
Commander Grey wasn't lying; Valentine's Day was indeed unusually busy. Two car accidents that morning, plus several more tickets than usual. They had just finished lunch, chatting over cola, and hadn't even had a two-minute break when the command center called again.
"7-A-26, please provide backup for a murder case. The husband returned ho to find his wife bleeding and unconscious on the floor. Detectives are on their way."
Jack and Nolan exchanged a glance and quickly picked up their walkie-talkies to reply, "7-A-26, received. We're on our way."
The two quickly arrived at an upscale neighborhood. Just as they were about to knock on the door, Angela's patrol car arrived. The three nodded to each other, and Jack drew his pistol and knocked on the door.
"LAPD, is anyone ho?"
Hearing faint sobs coming from inside, Jack tried turning the doorknob. The door opened slightly, and Jack walked straight through the entryway into the living room from which the sound was coming. Nolan and Angela behind him checked the rooms on either side of the hallway.
"Clear!"
"Clear!"
When the two turned back, they saw Jack crouching on the carpet in front of the fireplace. A middle-aged white woman lay in front of him, her head and the carpet beneath her stained with blood. A middle-aged white man in his thirties or forties sat slumped beside her, his hands covered in blood, weeping sadly.
"Sir?" Angela tried to call out to him.
Jack silently shook his head at the two, indicating that there was no way to salvage the situation.
"It's Valentine's Day today, and I ca ho early to surprise her. What kind of beast would do such a thing?"
The husband sobbed, seemingly talking to himself, but his words trailed off with a hint of gritted teeth.
Jack was terrible at comforting people. He glanced at Nolan, signaling him to handle it, and then turned on his walkie-talkie to call command center.
"7-A-26, the victim is dead. Please send soone to follow up as soon as possible."
Command center replied, "An agent is on his way."
Nolan and Angela stepped forward, one on each side, trying to help the heartbroken husband up.
"Sir, please let go and co with ."
After several calls, the husband finally responded and stood up with their help. Jack watched silently, noticing that he only reluctantly let go of his wife's hand when he was fully upright.
The two struggled to help him sit down on the sofa. Ignoring his blood-stained hands, the heartbroken husband covered his face and wept bitterly.
Nolan, usually so empathetic, seed sowhat at a loss. Angela was still quietly comforting the husband, trying to persuade him to leave.
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