Florida, Miami, Coast Guard Seventh District Headquarters!
At this moment in Jermaine Sara's office, a fierce argument is erupting.
"Mr. Sara, have you been leaving your brain at home every time you go out these past few days?"
Seventh District Deputy Commander Brek Joyce, with both hands pressed on Jermaine Sara's desk, veins bulging, couldn't understand what Jermaine was thinking, daring to intercept Donnie Block's bootleg liquor.
This isn't something anyone with any sense would dare attempt.
Jermaine Sara, appearing around thirty, with a neat short haircut and somewhat rugged features, sitting in a Coast Guard major's uniform.
Facing Brek Joyce's questioning, Jermaine Sara wore a smile, though his eyes harbored a cold chill.
"Joyce, are you doubting your superior?"
