One Thousand Two Hundred and Eighty-Seven Chapters John Debut, the Pressure Is Heavy

However, Sergeant John McLean was very calm, he just stretched out his hands to press his eye sockets, as if trying to make himself more awake.

Dustin breathed a sigh of relief: Sure enough, it was the undead Xiaoqiang McClain. Only Luke under his own can press him... er, maybe not.

Luke is actually very thin-skinned, and if he takes to the streets like John is now, he might turn his face away.

With that in mind, he waved, and Connie and Joe stepped forward to hang up the last piece of "equipment" for John.

"When you get off the bus, we'll be two blocks away, ready to pick you up," Dustin urged.

John's yawn stopped and his eyes widened. "Huh? Dustin, this is awesome. What is this trying to do? Two blocks away, are you kidding me?"

Dustin's face was full of seriousness: "That "Simon" is this request. If he doesn't do what he says, then he will make another subway station explosion."

John opened his mouth wide and was speechless for a moment.

Dustin smiled bitterly: "There are also people from the FBI and the Department of Homeland Security Affairs, who have contact with us, and they will also help, so that you will not be in trouble."

John sneered: "Of course, when I die, no one will listen to that Gou Simon. Who is this guy? Why is he staring at me?"

Everyone in the car, including Billy who was driving in front, was silent: Why are you staring at you, don't you have a beep in your heart! You have only been on duty for eleven days this month, and you killed two gangsters. It's normal for anyone to target you!

Only Dustin explained patiently: "We don't know either, but he said it must be you. So now we can only do it to buy time, find clues, and find out this guy."

John sneered: "Wow, it feels really good to be needed. Don't I have two more days left on my mandatory vacation?"

Dustin: "Actually there is only one day left, which is today, and now the vacation is canceled."

John: "...Then congratulations. You and that Gou Simon ruined my best "vacation"."

The crowd was silent again.

Dustin, who was brought to be side by side with "Gou Simon", was not angry either.

In his current position as John, the word "gou" would never be given only to Simon.

John vented, and didn't bother to talk nonsense any more: "OK, I'm cool."

After speaking, he pushed open the back door of the logistics car, looked at the sky outside, took a deep breath, and walked down.

Two large wooden boards tied together were wrapped around him and hung there one after the other, making his movement inconvenient.

Dustin finally said: "As requested, we will pick you up in fifteen minutes."

John nodded with a wry smile: "Don't worry, I will be beaten to death in this street in five minutes at most."

The crowd fell silent again, only Dustin said, "Let's go, Billy."

Billy, who was driving, flicked the steering wheel, and the logistics car turned around and sped away, leaving only John standing alone in the street.

An old black lady came from the opposite side, her eyes stayed on the wooden board in front of his chest,

He looked a little angry and sighed a little, but he didn't say anything after all.

John felt bitter in his heart, and stood helplessly at the street corner and looked around.

The sidewalk at this intersection is empty, and there are no cars parked on the street.

The afternoon sun slanted down, illuminating everything on this street.

Sergeant John, with only a pair of men's boxer shorts and two wooden boards, stood at the intersection of the street and was extremely conspicuous.

I saw three words, "I", "hate" and "niggers", written from top to bottom with black spray paint on the wooden board with a white background.

And more than 20 meters away, a group of African-American young people are playing music and dancing on the roadside, joking and joking.

John swallowed, feeling that he should have brought a bottle of water just now, and now he can relieve his dry mouth.

In this fearful torment, a tall black man walked out of the store across the street. He quickly walked across the street and stood not far from John with an inexplicable look on his face.

Pushing the tortoiseshell glasses on the bridge of his nose, frowning and staring at the three words on the wooden board on John's chest, the tall black man greeted, "Good afternoon, this gentleman."

John looked at the other person's height of almost 1.9 meters, and then looked at his own height of 1.8 meters. In his heart, Alexander said, "Good afternoon."

The tall black man looked at his expression and felt that things might not be quite what he thought.

It's not normal to be standing on the street wearing only leggings, but this man's expression doesn't look like a complete lunatic.

He couldn't help but ask: "Sir, have you encountered any problems? But even if you can't think of it, there's no need to commit suicide in this way, right?"

John: "...someone might think I was "suicided"."

Tall black man: "what?"

...

In the logistics car, Dustin didn't speak. He took out his mobile phone and sent a message: John has arrived, did you find anything?

Luke, who had just left the second subway station in Brooklyn, didn't reply immediately, but after seeing the information projected by the small snail on the polarizer, Selena sent a message.

Dustin looked at this reply and calmed down a little.

Luke is already investigating, and he said that if there is a clue, there is a clue.

As for Luke's words, Dustin has his own judgment.

If it doesn't, it really doesn't.

If there is a little progress or a clue, it will not be small.

And the criminals who usually find "a little clue" by him will basically have an ending soon, either dead or caught.

The only thing that worries Dustin is that the criminals this time are not ordinary gangs, but unscrupulous gangsters.

With such people, the real problem is often not catching them.

Catching people is likely to be the first step in solving problems.

Like this time, they had to figure out how many backends this group of empty clothers had arranged in New York.

Otherwise, if a suspicious point is missed, another subway station explosion may occur.

After thinking about it in his heart, he finally said: "Is there any news from the FBI and the Department of Homeland Security? What are they trying to do, are they pretending to be dead?"

Connie shook her head: "Boss, no news has come, but I have asked several times about our harvest."

Dustin rubbed his forehead, knowing that human nature can't be thought too good.

For most people, the sooner the case ends today, the better.

But for some at the FBI and DHS, the case is best if it ends in their hands.

If something really happened, it was the responsibility of the NYPD, the FBI, and the Department of Homeland Security.

If everyone didn't play a good role, then everyone is responsible.

Compared with the credit for solving such a shocking case, the humanity of some people can be completely put aside.

Dustin didn't think so, but he couldn't stop the other two from thinking it.

What made him even more helpless was that it happened so coincidentally.

If he hadn't ripped apart with Brad a few days earlier, how could Brad help a little bit.

But after talking with Luke that day, he clearly rejected Brad's request to step aside.

Now, Brad made a nonchalant phone call, asking him to solve the case as soon as possible, and said nothing else.