"Hey, Tari, after you get out, FBI Agent Hannah will be asking you so questions. She wants to know about your work here." Jack called out to Tari, who was about to leave.
Seeing Tari's nervous and uneasy look, he smiled and reassured him, "If you're worried about anything, how about I offer you a job that pays over $20 an hour afterwards?"
After seeing off the suddenly energetic Tari, and saying goodbye to the LAPD officers who entered through the fire escape and security door, Hondo and the other three hurried back.
With the "Nine Gang" dealt with, there was no more organized resistance in Block A.
Wearing full-body armor, carrying batons, and equipped with tear gas and stun grenades, the LAPD officers could easily take down the prisoners still running around by steadily advancing cell by cell.
As they approached the connection between Block A and Block B, the LAPD officers, having opened the stairwell gate on the third floor and cleared away the clothes, had already reached the fourth floor.
Nothing unexpected happened; the three SWAT mbers guarding the area were unhard. Several prisoner corpses lay around the corner not far away.
"Command, Team A is preparing to enter Block B."
"Roger Team A, Team B is in position and preparing to enter."
Hondo's serious expression softened slightly. With two SWAT teams together, manpower wasn't so strained.
"We need to clear Block B quickly. Gunnar Card is plotting sothing; the longer we drag this out, the worse it will be for us."
He was about to lead his team out when Jack stopped him.
"Hondo, I have a suggestion."
"It's ti to split into two teams. Deacon and I will take two n to find the construction workers. You can go to Block C first and et up with Team B on the way."
Hondo stopped, thought for a mont, and decisively said, "Chris, Strickland, you'll team up with Deacon and Jack. Be careful."
He patted Jack on the shoulder. "I'll have them buy so coffee and wait outside."
"That was just a coincidence." Jack rolled his eyes.
Shortly after the mall shooting, he was escorted away by Tim and his group. The SWAT team arrived later, and after determining the firing distance to be 41 ters, Hondo even called Jack.
As the saying goes, a person's reputation precedes them; the SWAT team's willingness to let Jack participate in such a high-risk operation was understandable—no one wanted to be a burden.
Ti was of the essence. Upon entering Block B, the team split in two. Jack and his group continued forward, while Hondo, along with Luca and the Tan, entered the passage leading to Block C.
The prisoners in Block B were visibly more muscular than the black n in Block A, and the "Bahamut Gang" was far more brutal. Jack and his group passed through several cells, finding at least ten inmate corpses from infighting.
"Further ahead is the prison's infirmary, which was probably the first place attacked after the riot started." Deacon said, forcefully tying up a struggling man.
"There are a lot of addicts among these guys. They'll co here for drugs first. Be careful when you go in."
The burly white man being held down by his knee stopped struggling upon hearing this and began to curse angrily.
"This shitty prison doesn't even have a damn infirmary? There's a pharmacy in Block C, but it was emptied out by those 'Spicy Eagles' a long ti ago."
The others paused, noticing that the map showed at least two connected halls ahead, marked with the word "infirmary," and even filled with what appeared to be hospital beds.
"Let's go in and take a look." The four split into two groups, guns at their sides, with Jack and Deacon on the right, and Strickland and Chris on the left.
Deacon turned the doorknob, and the two groups, maintaining their positions on either side, searched along the walls of the room.
"Left side safe."
"Right side safe."
"What's going on?" Chris looked at the rows of electric sewing machines filling the hall, her expression puzzled.
"Prison factory. They've converted the original infirmary and wards into a bulletproof vest manufacturing workshop." Jack picked up a piece of Kevlar fabric from the table, shook it, and revealed a half-finished bulletproof vest.
"This is the place those people were talking about, where you have to work seven days a week."
Deacon sneered. "Now I understand how those guys make money by operating prisons, turning prisoners into free laborers making bulletproof vests. It's the sa as those Fucking Ching Chong's."
Jack took out his phone and fild everything in front of him. Although there was real-ti recording from the SWAT team's chest recorder, it was always good to have a backup just in case.
Jack was having a peaceful afternoon nap, dreaming sweet dreams, when a prison riot trapped Hotchner and Reid here, forcing him to clean up the ss left by these Ching Chong imitators. He was incredibly annoyed.
Regardless of the LAPD's actions, Jack wouldn't mind treating a news anchor to dinner and providing the footage.
Of course, the footage alone wasn't enough; the prison guard Tari was also a backup plan, working as a guard without any training, earning $11 an hour.
This testimony would be enough to give that prison contractor, Ash Jones, a run for his money.
"Shh~~~" Jack suddenly heard a rustling sound coming from the next room and signaled everyone to be careful.
The three SWAT team mbers alertly used the load-bearing pillars in the room as cover, their guns pointed at the door leading to the next room.
"Gun!" With Chris's sharp scream, a prisoner wielding a shotgun suddenly appeared in the doorway, and gunshots rang out almost simultaneously from both sides.
At a distance of about four or five ters, simultaneously under the concentrated fire of four rifles, the guy with the shotgun, even with several layers of bulletproof vests, was riddled with bullets after just one shot.
Bang! Bang!
His two accomplices, not daring to show their faces, fired a few blind shots into the room, grabbed the shotgun that had fallen to the ground, and fled in a sorry state.
"Go, go, go!" Deacon led the way, with Jack following behind, the four forming a single file and giving chase.
The next room was much more crowded than this one, filled with various large washing and drying equipnt, presumably for further processing of the finished bulletproof vests.
"Watch out, hostages."
Whether it was because the group was advancing too fast or the "Bahamut Gang" mbers were too panicked, these guys didn't have ti to use the hostages as human shields and fled in a sorry state to the deepest part of the room.
Eight construction workers, trapped like sardines, were tied under a stainless steel workbench at the entrance. Upon seeing the SWAT team mbers burst in, they excitedly let out muffled moans.
"Let them out."
Deacon and Jack, guns drawn, stepped forward to shield them. Chris and Strickland drew their daggers, cut the ropes binding them, and forced the n into the room by pressing their heads down.
[A/n: Bro is hating capitalism but dude, money/power, in any type of governnt will always be in the hands of few, whether they are rich/powerful.
The system is basically made by the capable and who are rich to mainly serve themselves and then others. I am not saying it is right, but is is survival of the fittest, where fit ans many things.
Even in Ching Chong, for building the Stadium for Olympics, you overworked the workers to death and nearly 800 people died during the construction, and here you are hating exploitation.
Dude, go suck one for your heavenly Govt. dick, they may not love it, but they will enjoy it. Your hypocrisy shows know bounds, you would suck a Ching Chong one even when they have you killed.]
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