"What else do you want from me? Didn't I tell you already, you are no longer of use to me, and no one cares about that damned hit order now."
King Midas, his eyes bloodshot, lifted his head and spoke in a low voice, "I want to make a deal with you."
Inspector Gray pondered for a moment before stepping into the cell and closing the door.
"Just half an hour ago, I was appointed as acting chief of the Wilshire Division by the Chief Superintendent. What leverage do you think you have?"
A mocking smile appeared on King Midas's face.
"Just acting, isn't it? At any moment, some politically savvy operator could swoop in and take that position, leaving you to savor the sweetness of power briefly before you retire with a pension. Maybe your family will be pleased because you'll finally have time for them."
"Fuck you, you piece of shit." Inspector Gray grabbed him by the collar.
"If you came back to provoke me, congratulations, you've succeeded."
"No, no, no, my old friend. In fact, we can help each other, can't we?"
King Midas patted Gray's arm, which was gripping his collar.
"I have a proposal. You find a way to save my son, and I'll provide something in return—evidence against some of my old comrades to bring them down. How about that? With such merits, I don't think anyone could..."
Inspector Gray snorted, using his grip on the collar to slam King Midas against the wall.
"I was never your friend, and you have no right to negotiate with me. Hand over the evidence and tell me where your son is hiding. If he's lucky enough, I'll arrest him before the feds and other cops do."
Twenty minutes later, Inspector Gray exited the prison and got into his police car. After zoning out for a while, he rubbed his chubby black face vigorously, then pulled out his phone and dialed a number.
"We did it. King Midas gave up evidence against three key leaders and some of their accounts. It's enough to take them down. The Southern Front is finished."
In the office of the Wilshire Division's chief, Zoe hung up the phone, smiling as she announced to the gathered crowd.
In the small office, seven or eight people were packed in. Hearing the news, Tim, John, Angela, and the others all beamed with joy.
"We move out in half an hour. The FBI will handle the three key leaders. Captain Hondo and his team will raid the Southern Front's hideout. Everyone else will block the surrounding roads and ensure Cole is captured."
After assigning the tasks, Zoe turned her teasing gaze to a certain someone who looked like they were sitting on pins and needles.
"Superintendent Ginny, you can let Angela help you remove your makeup now."
Jack jumped up from his chair, yanking off the blonde wig and letting out a long breath.
"Heh heh heh, wait a minute, I haven't taken a commemorative photo yet." Angela grabbed the wig and placed it back on his head, pulling out her phone to take a selfie with a pout.
"Everyone, join in." John and Tim couldn't miss this opportunity. They pinned Jack from both sides, preventing him from escaping, and called everyone over for a group photo.
Even Zoe and Hondo didn't miss out. Everyone crowded together, pinning a resentful-looking Jack dressed as a woman in the middle for a group shot.
Yes, everything was a setup orchestrated by Jack based on the information Zoe provided about the Southern Front.
This violent gang was not invincible. Its founder, King Midas, had been in prison for years, only able to command through his foolish son.
And that fool, Cole, wasn't new to issuing hit orders on cops. Jack surmised that there must be several key members within the Southern Front dissatisfied with Cole.
This suspicion was confirmed by Ben Cicora, superintendent of the LAPD's Anti-Black and Narcotics Division. As the division in charge of all gang-related crimes, the LAPD Anti-Gang Unit had infiltrators and informants in almost every medium and large gang in Los Angeles.
Jack suggested proceeding with the original plan to raid the Southern Front, focusing on those discontented key members while avoiding the interests controlled by Cole.
Next came the performance by the seasoned Inspector Gray, who flawlessly played the role of a middle-aged officer experiencing a midlife crisis, unwilling to remain subordinate.
This gave King Midas a strong psychological hint, making him feel he could take the initiative.
Then came the unexpected element—a major event to shake King Midas and make him see Gray as his last lifeline.
Enter Jack, disguised as Superintendent Ginny Anderson, to prevent any accidents. Jack convinced Zoe to let him act as her double and took John's patrol car.
Then, an infiltrator from the Anti-Gang Unit and another real gang member executed the hit order, letting the "killer" escape and informing the Southern Front.
Soon after, the infiltrator posing as the "killer" vanished, leaving King Midas unable to hand over the shooter. He believed the police would never let his son who issued the hit order go, forcing him to propose a deal with Gray.
King Midas might still be smug, thinking he saved his son and eliminated rivals, believing his gang would be more tightly controlled after a brief loss.
However, the DA had already reached an understanding with Zoe. Once the three key members were arrested, they would offer a deal to pin down King Midas's foolish son.
This was the crucial step. Once the deal was struck and Cole, the nominal leader of the Southern Front, was captured or killed, the violent gang that had troubled the LAPD for years would collapse. King Midas would pay the price for his actions, losing his influence and facing betrayal from within.
"I told you, Jack is a master manipulator. Next time, we should take him to church and try some real holy water. It might just sizzle on him."
Seeing the plan nearly complete, John finally relaxed and felt like joking.
"That sizzling stuff is called a vampire, and you can find plenty on Wall Street."
Jack rolled his eyes at Angela, struggling to peel off the nearly 20-pound silicone prosthetics and wipe the sweat from his chest with a towel, grumbling all the while.
"From today, I'm a feminist. You carry these heavy things around and still keep up with the male cops. It's amazing."
Angela, done with removing his makeup, slapped him on the shoulder and reluctantly took her eyes off his well-defined muscles, putting away her Beretta 950.
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