Ultimately, Jack emerged victorious, handing over five dollars to the shrewd Tim. Angela, leveraging her smaller frame for agility, was the first to catch up to Broadman in the throng, grabbing a wooden sculpture from a roadside stall and smashing it into his knee.
Three burly men then swarmed over, pinning Broadman to the beach.
"Wow, that looks like it's going to hurt,"
a few onlookers leisurely approached. Jack pulled out his gloves and mask, donning them, and accepted a heavy backpack from John, which was one of the reasons Broadman couldn't run fast.
"No vials found, but there's at least $300,000 in it."
"Is that your reward for bringing the virus from Hawaii to Los Angeles, Dr. Broadman?" As Hannah and Cheng Hao dragged Broadman from the beach and handcuffed him, Karen grabbed him by the collar, his face turning pale with fear.
NCIS
and Five-O took the suspect back for questioning, while Jack stayed behind to deal with the aftermath. He hadn't seen his old friends in Los Angeles in a while, so he took the opportunity to chat.
Dr. Broadman looked like a coward and a badass; he'd probably confess everything after a few threats. NCIS wasn't the LAPD; they wouldn't let him see a lawyer.
Of course, the main reason was that Jack noticed John was a little distracted; he'd noticed that yesterday.
"What's wrong with him?"
Jack asked, Tim somewhat bewildered. "I don't know. He was just elected union representative, and we gave him a congratulatory gift yesterday."
"Ah, John Nolan, union representative?" a question slowly crossed Jack's mind. "If I remember correctly, the Wilshire Police Department union representative has always been that old, salty Smiddy, right?"
Angela rolled her eyes. "But some new guy wanted to make some changes this year, and he was elected successfully. However, I saw a brief conversation between him and the union president yesterday after work, and it didn't seem to be very successful."
"It wouldn't be a success or a failure. To be more precise, our union president dismissed my proposal with a series of very official and diplomatic rhetoric."
John, who had apparently overheard the conversation nearby, came over to explain.
Jack, whose knowledge of common sense had reached a level comparable to that of most Americans, gave John a thumbs-up.
"So, on your first day as union representative, you couldn't wait to present your 'proposal' to the union president?"
Jack said, curling his index and middle fingers against his ears, indicating the need for quotation marks around the word "proposal.
" "But that's the slogan I used when I ran for union representative: We have to make some changes for everyone. I think I need your advice, Jack." It's true that even a middle-aged man like John can be as naive as a child sometimes.
Jack checked the time. "Okay, if Superintendent (Tim) Bradford is okay, I think we should find a place to have lunch together. Are you still at the food truck in the old neighborhood park?"
"Of course, the burritos there are the best," Angela smiled, as if they were back in the days of patrolling the streets together.
Half an hour later, back in the familiar neighborhood park, still at those same simple tables, Jack waved and greeted some familiar faces from the Wilshire Police Department, then returned to the group with his plate.
"Tim, you have double cheese, Angela has no hot sauce, John has diet cola, and Lucy has vegan chicken. Wow, this feels amazing, like it was just yesterday."
Jack's words were barely finished when Angela waved her hand in disdain, "You make me feel old when you say that."
"No, love makes you young. Even Tim has fewer wrinkles on his face." Jack said meaningfully, sitting down next to Lucy and deliberately pushing her closer to Tim.
It's been a while since I last saw this girl. I heard she was transferred back to the Wilshire Precinct. She and Tim have been planning their wedding for so long, but they still haven't set a date. I don't know what they're all thinking about.
Lucy made a face at him and leaned against Tim with a sweet look on her face, "I'm preparing for the detective exam, so Tim was very gentlemanly to postpone our wedding."
"You? Want to be a detective?" This chick has only been a LAPD officer for a few years?
Jack looked at Tim with suspicion, "If someone doesn't want to get married, they can just say so. There's no need to push them into taking on such a difficult challenge."
"Go to hell!" Lucy angrily shook her fist at him, then flashed that sickeningly sweet expression as she turned toward Tim. "I just wanted to give it a try. This is my career plan."
Tim responded with a doting look. "I believe in Lucy's abilities. The detective exam won't be a problem for her."
Jack shook his head, dismissing the 5,000-word outline for "The Domineering Superintendent and His Little Wife" he had already mentally concocted. He then asked about John's concerns.
It wasn't a complicated matter. Before officially becoming a union representative, John had done some research. As a junior officer, he'd compiled the call records for the Wilshire Police Department and came to a conclusion.
"Among all the police calls we receive, at least 40% are related to psychological problems or mental disorders, and our police officers have hardly received any psychological crisis intervention training, uh... except for some criminal profiling training that Jack and your BAU team gave us.
So I suggest that we can draw a portion of the police department's abundant funds to provide some training and guidance for our police officers in this area, and support some psychological care groups in the community. This may be possible..."
After listening to John's statement, Jack had roughly understood what he meant, "Do you think that this method can be used to reduce the pressure on ordinary police officers to receive calls in disguise?"
John became excited all of a sudden, "I knew that as a psychologist, you would understand my ideas. In fact, my inspiration came from you."
Jack waved his hand to interrupt him, "But have you ever thought about what if this project works?"
"Ah?" John was confused and didn't understand what he meant at all. Even the other friends who didn't pay attention to this matter originally cast curious eyes. Obviously, Jack's answer was also beyond their expectations.
Jack searched his brain for the little political savvy he'd acquired from watching Zoe and Maureen, two of the most powerful women in the world, and patiently explained.
"I believe the Wilshire Police Department's relatively ample budget is sufficient to support a small-scale psychological training program like this, but that doesn't mean all LAPD departments have the same level of funding.
What if a local council member notices the success of this program and, at next year's City Council vote, allocates a portion of the LAPD budget to community groups to promote similar mental health programs?
Securing funding from the City Council is a key task for the police union. Are you planning to capitalize on the momentum of getting rid of Smiddy, the union representative who served for 12 years, and then kick the current union president out of office?"
"Huh? I hadn't thought about that," John said, speechless.
Jack's phone beeped twice. He picked it up and saw it was from Danny. The interrogation of Broadman had concluded, and he needed to return immediately.
Jack nibbled away at his chicken roll and offered John a suggestion. "Instead of taking someone else's cake, why not build your own? Why don't you try to secure some sponsorship yourself?"
"Sponsorship? I don't know any wealthy people that eager to help." John found the suggestion somewhat baffling. He did know a few wealthy individuals, like his old classmate who owned a mansion in Beverly Hills.
But that kind of sponsorship wouldn't be something like a few tens of thousands of dollars for the entire LAPD. They wouldn't just pony up a fortune for no reason.
"Talk to the Wolfe brothers." Jack, pressed for time, didn't have time for any cryptic talk and simply gave his answer.
Shangri-La was registered in California, a legitimate local company. While it had the backing of local powerhouses like the Anderson family, it also needed to cultivate good relations with local tycoons like the LAPD.
Although Jack had been away from Los Angeles for a long time in the past two years, the connections he had made with his old friends hadn't been broken. The old guys at the Wilshire PD, including Captain Gray, made a habit of visiting the Wolfe brothers' ranch on weekends and days off.
Even Angela could call their housekeeper to help babysit, and John, the good guy, was even more familiar with Braxton.
Although Shangri-La didn't engage in illegal business, it was necessary to donate hundreds of thousands of dollars to the LAPD every year in the name of a local business to gain some favor.
Jack hadn't thought of it before, but since John wanted to do something practical for his colleagues, he, as a former LAPD member, naturally agreed with both hands and feet. This was a win-win situation in itself.
(End of this chapter)