The atmosphere inside the car was rather heavy. Wesley, who had been chattering nonstop in the back seat, was now silent. Although he only knew Tim casually, after overhearing the radio communication, he clearly understood the seriousness of the situation. The three people in the car had lost their interest in chatting.
Jack had a headache. If Tim was infected, such a high-level contagious disease would definitely require strict isolation. He couldn't think of any way to get close to Tim to perform a healing spell.
Shaking his head, Jack gave up on those thoughts. As a member of the main group, Tim shouldn't be that easy to take down. Rather than worrying needlessly, it was better to deal with the matter at hand.
But the investigation was not going smoothly. With only a few days left until the Christmas holidays and it being the afternoon, most residents in the residential areas were at work. After knocking on doors until past 5 PM, they had nothing to show for it.
Jack bought three cups of coffee and handed one to Wesley in the back seat of the police car. They had barely rested for ten minutes when John called over the walkie-talkie.
Today, John's protagonist aura was particularly effective. He had asked the homeless people in the neighborhood park about the suspect's car and identified the exact address: a yellow apartment building.
When they arrived, John and Nyra Harper had already raided the small apartment, which was empty. John found the room owner's name, Brandon Michel, in a stack of bills.
While they were confirming the identity of the second terrorist with the command center, Jack walked into the living room and looked around. There was a messy desk by the window with scattered scraps of paper.
These were ready-made clues. Jack pieced together some of the scraps, revealing a forged TSA (Transportation Security Administration) badge pattern with "LAX" printed on it, which is the code for Los Angeles International Airport.
"Guys, I think we've found the terrorist's target."
The next steps were relatively straightforward. The DHS directly shut down Los Angeles International Airport, and the FBI coordinated all available police forces in the city, setting up roadblocks on major roads leading to the airport to intercept the suspect's blue BMW with fake plates.
"The CDC has already sent the vaccine to Tim. Now it's up to us to intercept the terrorists in time. Although the DHS has temporarily closed LAX, there are at least tens of thousands of travelers trying to get home for Christmas stuck there."
Sergeant Gray informed everyone over the public communication channel.
Jack scratched his head as he looked at the heavily congested highway, thinking of an old joke about robbing a bank. He picked up the walkie-talkie and voiced his concern.
"Given how meticulous these terrorists are, with double insurance for transporting the virus, I doubt they would overlook LA's rush hour traffic."
Sergeant Gray quickly responded, "Deployment wasn't led by LAPD; we're just executing orders, myself included."
John, who had already had two successful interventions today, agreed with Jack, "Simply blocking the highway has loopholes. Even as someone who's only been in LA for six months, I know there's a back road via La Cienega that leads straight to the airport."
The communication channel fell silent for a moment, but soon Sergeant Gray's voice came through again, "Alright, let's go with your plan. Command center, this is 7-L-20. Redirect Wilshire Division units to La Cienega Boulevard and adjust the helicopter route. Keep an eye on the blue BMW."
In about ten minutes, the helicopter in the sky reported good news, "Attention all units, suspect vehicle sighted on Centinela Avenue heading south towards La Cienega Boulevard. California plate V5BU9F7."
Angela and Jack exchanged a glance—it was indeed the suspect's blue BMW with fake plates.
Soon, sirens sounded in the distance. Nyra Harper's voice came over the public channel, "Command center, 7-A-15 is in pursuit of the suspect."
With Jack flooring the gas pedal, the flashing red and blue lights of John and Nyra's patrol car appeared ahead.
Angela picked up the walkie-talkie and called, "7-A-26 joining the pursuit."
As the car sped up, Wesley in the back seat looked alarmed, "You're seriously keeping me in the patrol car during this?"
Angela turned back with a smile, "You're the one who wanted to spend a lovely evening with me, remember? Having second thoughts about dating a cop now?"
She tossed the handcuff keys to the back seat, "If there's a shootout, hide in the back of the car; we might not be able to cover you."
Wesley fumbled for a long time before unlocking his handcuffs, his face pale. Just as he was about to speak, Jack's shout silenced him.
"Hold on tight, we're approaching the last gas station before the airport. We need to catch up quickly."
The communication channel then relayed a report from the police helicopter, "All units, Air One disengaging pursuit. Suspect vehicle has entered the airport no-fly zone."
Jack's driving skills were at an advanced level, comparable to John's. However, although John could drive a large truck, he lacked Jack's spatial awareness and reflexes.
Moreover, both had undergone basic PIT (Precision Immobilization Technique) training but had never used it in practice. This is where the benefit of Jack's system-enhanced skills came in.
With a high-speed drift around a corner, even with an extra person in the car, Jack and Angela's patrol car overtook John's. Jack grabbed the walkie-talkie and said, "7-A-26 requesting PIT. We're approaching the airport and running out of time."
California's rules for police executing PIT maneuvers are strict, especially in city areas where it's usually prohibited. As patrol officers often patrolling the city, Jack and his team rarely had the chance to perform a PIT maneuver.
"Approved, but don't push it. The suspect's car has the virus," Sergeant Gray's voice came through the channel. They had just left the more congested areas, and there was still nearly a kilometer between the two patrol cars.
"Wesley, stay alert. The back seat isn't bulletproof. If there's a shootout, don't run around. The back of the car is the safest spot."
Jack gave Wesley a stern reminder. It wasn't about dragging a civilian into a dangerous situation; it was about letting Wesley experience Angela's daily life as a cop, which was also a test for their relationship. Angela clearly had her own ideas, and Jack didn't want to meddle.
The patrol car continued to accelerate. The Wilshire Division, known for its wealth, had recently replaced their patrol cars with the latest Ford Explorers. These new models not only retained the V6 engine that officers loved but also came with reinforced bumpers designed for PIT maneuvers.
The past couple of days had been busy with updates, leaving little time to review previous chapters. If any issues arise, please let me know, and I will address them as soon as possible.
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