Mecia felt like the anesthetic was still clouding his senses, making him see hallucinations. As an IRS investigator trained rigorously in shooting and combat, he was witnessing a fight that defied his understanding, one that pitted mismatched opponents against each other.
The bald man was grotesque and menacing, with a burly, muscular frame. Opposite him stood a handsome, almost bookish-looking young officer from the LAPD. Though similar in height, the officer was noticeably smaller in build.
Despite the large room, the presence of five stainless steel autopsy tables made the space surprisingly cramped. If Mecia had been in the officer's shoes, he would have never engaged in hand-to-hand combat in such conditions, especially since it stripped the smaller opponent of his only advantage—agility.
Yet, the LAPD officer had no intention of dodging. The bald man, despite his bulk, launched a swift and brutal jab at the officer, who astonishingly responded with an identical move. Their fists collided midair, and Mecia clearly heard the sharp crack of a bone breaking. To his astonishment, it was the bald man who cried out in pain.
The bald man's right hand hung limp, fingers unable to close, resembling a claw. As Mecia wondered if the LAPD officer was wearing brass knuckles, the bald man gritted his teeth and swung his left fist in a wide arc aimed at the officer's right ear.
Such a blow would typically cause a severe concussion, incapacitating the target instantly. Yet, the officer, undeterred, mirrored the attack with his left fist, striking the bald man's forearm with precision. Another crisp snap echoed as the bald man's forearm deformed, and his redirected punch grazed the officer's cheek harmlessly.
With both arms now broken, the bald man doubled over in agony. The officer, identified as Jack, smiled slightly, despite the blood trickling from his mouth. "My turn now," he said.
What followed was a rapid succession of indistinguishable blows. Jack mimicked the combination moves of the female assassin he had encountered earlier. The bald man couldn't block a single hit. His abdomen, midsection, and chest took the brunt of Jack's relentless assault. Finally, with a sickening crunch, the bald man's jaw shattered, and he collapsed to the ground like a ragdoll.
Jack, feeling some relief from his frustration, knelt down and bound the bald man's limbs with plastic zip ties before turning to help Mecia up.
"Can you move?"
Mecia managed a weak smile. "Not at all. Are all LAPD officers like you, some kind of monster?"
As Jack approached, Mecia confirmed that there were no brass knuckles; this baby-faced young man had single-handedly defeated his opponent with just his fists.
At that moment, the sound of hurried footsteps filled the hallway, accompanied by John's calls.
"Jack?"
"All clear! Suspect is subdued."
Jack raised his voice to indicate his position.
A group of LAPD officers stormed into the autopsy room. John, leading the way, holstered his weapon and stared wide-eyed at the bald man still moaning on the floor. With his jaw broken, the man could only grunt painfully, drooling all over the floor.
"Are you okay?"
Jack wiped his mouth and flashed a 'charming' smile. "I think I need Garris to introduce me to a gentler nurse."
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Scene Break ---
"Thank you very much, Officer Jack Tavorler. On behalf of the IRS, I appreciate all you've done."
Ray King, a thin, elderly man, stepped out of the hospital room with a piece of paper in hand, and eagerly shook hands with Jack who was waiting outside.
"The pleasure was mine, Director King."
For the sake of the "substantial" bonus, Jack didn't mind exchanging a few pleasantries.
As Jack glanced at the paper in King's hand, he couldn't help but ask in a low voice, "Did everything go smoothly?"
Ray King nodded with a smile. "Very smoothly. Alejandro Mecia proved to be a loyal and reliable agent."
"He intercepted nearly 50 million in illegal funds. This cryptocurrency now belongs to the IRS," the old man added quietly.
"That much?" Jack's eyes lit up. This old man was quite transparent, definitely someone worth keeping in touch with.
"You know, the price of digital currency has been climbing recently."
Ray King winked, making his wrinkled face look somewhat comical, though it was clear he was in a very good mood.
"The IRS will note the source of your bonus. Also, my previous invitation still stands. Mecia was very impressed with your skills."
Jack offered an apologetic smile. While the IRS was indeed a prestigious part of the law enforcement system, the thought of armed tax enforcement didn't appeal to him. In contrast, the FBI's BAU unit and the cases they handled intrigued him more, given the system's rewarding experience points.
Of course, maintaining a good relationship with the financial overseers was essential.
Just as Jack was about to explain further, a stranger's voice interrupted from behind them.
"Old man, this kid is already reserved by me. You should drop the idea."
Jack turned to see a scholarly-looking white man in his early fifties, walking briskly towards them with Maureen.
"David Rossi!"
Ray King stepped forward and embraced the man warmly.
"David, I didn't expect to see you here. Aren't you busy writing and giving lectures across the country?"
The middle-aged man named David Rossi had a neatly trimmed beard, graying at the temples, and his hair slicked back with hair oil in a vintage style.
"The BAU ran into some trouble recently, so they called me back."
David Rossi smiled as he turned to Jack. "Officer Jack Tavorler?"
"Yes, sir." Jack met Rossi's deep, perceptive gaze, feeling a momentary unease.
He couldn't quite describe the look in Rossi's eyes—deep, wise, melancholic, seemingly capable of seeing through to one's innermost secrets.
Jack hadn't felt this way since he first met Maureen. Unlike Maureen's comforting demeanor as a psychologist, Rossi's aura was more intense.
Of course, Jack was no longer the nervous rookie he once was. Now equipped with advanced psychology skills, he respectfully extended his hand.
"It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Rossi."
He didn't forget to greet Maureen as well. "Long time no see, Professor Cahill."
David Rossi didn't immediately let go of Jack's hand. He looked Jack over carefully and inspected his knuckles before expressing his amazement.
"How did you manage to break that suspect so thoroughly? I just saw him; he has at least seven or eight broken bones."
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