Hawke and Gwen turned their heads to look.
What they saw was a male and female police officer outside the alley, having just finished examining the bodies of four hooded robbers with twisted necks on the ground.
They hurriedly drew their service pistols, their faces tense as they aimed them at Hawke and Gwen.
Gwen quickly spoke up.
"My dad is the sergeant of the 19th Precinct."
"..."
George, who was working inside the precinct, arrived at the scene as quickly as possible after receiving the message from the Queens Precinct.
The scene was already cordoned off.
When George got out of the police car, the first thing he saw was Gwen and Hawke standing together not far away, answering questions from the Queens detectives.
"Gwen!"
"Dad."
Gwen's eyes lit up when she heard the voice and saw George in his white shirt approaching.
The officers and detectives beside him greeted George and saluted as required.
George, focused on Gwen, approached her, his tone tense and concerned.
"How are you? Are you alright?"
"I'm fine."
Gwen smiled and shook her head, then looked at Hawke beside her and replied to George, "Hawk arrived just in time."
George looked at Hawke beside him, didn't say anything, just nodded.
Hawke smiled slightly in response.
Just then.
The Queens sheriff, who was inside the police cordon, turned to look at George after hearing the report and called out, "George!"
George looked in the direction of the voice and saw his friend, who was the sheriff of the Queens precinct.
He turned back to say hello to Gwen and then walked into the police cordon.
"Allen, what happened?"
"Preliminary assessment is that it's a kidnapping."
"Kidnapping?"
"Yes."
Allen, the Queens sheriff and also George's friend, looked at George as he approached, pointed to the straps and duct tape found in the Toyota, and then seemed to think of something, looking at George: "Gwen's boyfriend is something else."
George was slightly taken aback.
"What's wrong?"
"Look"
Allen pointed to the four figures—three in black and one in white—whose heads had been spun 180 degrees on the ground and whose hoods had been removed, and said, "The forensic doctor just checked them. There were no gunshot wounds; they were all broken by hand."
George looked at the four corpses, first showing a surprised expression, then subconsciously turning his head to glance at Hawke standing outside.
Gwen caught George's gaze, nudged Hawke beside her with her elbow, and lowered her voice.
"Dad's curious about you."
"It's nothing."
Hawke didn't care.
His current strength was entirely due to his continuous, unwavering effort and self-improvement over a thousand days.
The cheat code it merely provided an opportunity, and Hawke simply seized it.
Throwing ten thousand punches for a thousand consecutive days.
It sounds simple, but how many can truly persevere?
So!
Why hide strength earned through skill?
The first time he went to Quantico, he merely wore a mask and didn't try to conceal himself much.
Later, against Dr. Lizard, Hulk, and again in Quantico, he never considered hiding himself.
In short:
Return home in glory, display your wealth and honor.
Don't sleep in luxury, sing freely in the wind.
Playing the fool to fool others?
No!
He plays the game of showing off!
Hawke thought to himself, then smiled and met George's gaze as he turned to look at him from behind the police cordon.
Their eyes met.
George was the first to look away, turning to the detective who had run to his friend Allen to report the information.
"Abu Lembel."
"From the Devil Gang."
"He was just released on bail two weeks ago. The other three are also from the Devil Gang. The middle-aged woman who was taken to the hospital is Abu Lembel's wife."
"The Devil Gang."
Queens Sheriff Allen, listening to the report, subconsciously looked at his friend George: "Is this for you?"
Because the Devil Gang isn't a Queens gang, but a Manhattan gang, and their main area of operation is the 19th Precinct.
George looked at Allen: "I'm the felony chief; organized crime isn't under my jurisdiction."
Cases related to gangs are handled by the Organized Crime Investigation Division.
He mainly handles homicides in his district.
Allen frowned slightly.
"Then who is this for? It can't be for Gwen herself, can it?"
"How is the woman in the hospital?"
"We don't know yet."
Allen checked the time on his watch and said to George, "Shall we go to the hospital together?"
George nodded.
He didn't ask Allen to hand over the case to him.
Even if Allen gave up the case, it wouldn't be easy for him to take it on, because it involved a gang.
Even if Allen gave it to the 19th Precinct, the sheriff in charge of gangs would still handle the investigation.
Besides the case happened within the Queens Precinct's jurisdiction, so Allen might not necessarily give it up.
But it's fine if he doesn't give it up; things are fine as they are now. No matter what, he's involved.
"Gwen."
"Uncle Allen."
Gwen, who was also discussing the case with Hawke, looked at Sheriff Allen walking over with her father and greeted him sweetly.
Allen smiled and said, "You weren't frightened, were you?"
Gwen, seeing her father's gaze on Hawke, smiled and took Hawke's arm, saying to Allen, "Uncle Allen, you've asked me twice already. I'm fine. Hawke protected me very well. I'm okay, really."
George watched his little cabbage being carried by the wild boar, his eyes twitching uncontrollably.
Sheriff Allen, standing to the side, chuckled, then seemed to remember something and looked at George: "Gwen is eighteen this year, right? She'll graduate from college in three more years. By the way, George, how much have you saved for Gwen's wedding fund?"
As everyone knows,in the federal government, it's common practice for the bride's parents to prepare a sum of money for wedding expenses, and if they have enough, the honeymoon is also paid for.
George didn't say anything, just glanced expressionlessly at his friend, then took out the keys to the police car he had just driven and tossed them to Hawke.
Hawke caught the keys steadily with his right hand.
"Take Gwen home first."
"Okay."
Hawke nodded, pulling Gwen towards the police car George had just driven.
As for his Audi A8 and Gwen's Corolla, the keys had already been given to the insurance agent from Gongrong Insurance, who had arrived earlier than George.
They would take both cars to a repair shop after the sheriff lifted the cordon, and then deliver them to their homes.
Soon,Hawke stepped on the gas, openly driving the police car away from the scene.
Queens Precinct Sergeant Allen watched the police car drive away, then turned his gaze back and followed George toward the vehicle in the distance, asking curiously, "Your future son-in-law seems quite good. Is he also Berkeley?"
George shook his head: "No, he's from NYU Law School."
Upon hearing this, Sergeant Allen looked at George, his expression solemn: "Studying law, studying law is good."
He could become a wealthy lawyer,or a powerful senator.
Studying law, he really needed to study it.
But.
"Have you looked into his background?"
"Yes, he's an orphan."
"Hiss!"
Sergeant Allen, now in the car, looked at George in the passenger seat and gasped again.
He instinctively glanced at the black Audi A8 gleaming in the sunlight in the distance.
"An orphan, an Audi A8, are you sure?"
"He moved a few days ago."
"What?"
"He used to live in the Bridge Apartments, now he lives on Palm Street in the East Village."
"…"
The Bridge Apartments, a notoriously low-income apartment complex in Queens.
Palm Street in the East Village, a similarly well-known affluent neighborhood in Manhattan.
"Hiss!"
Allen couldn't help but gasp again.
"He"
"Unbelievable, isn't it?"
"What happened?"
"I don't know."
George looked at Allen's serious face and shook his head: "The only thing I'm sure of is that the money he used to buy the house came from a very clear source."
Allen frowned.
George seemed to guess what Allen wanted to say, smiled, and said in a low voice: "Because the IRS didn't bother him."
Allen immediately shut up.
This reason was impeccable.
Why do criminals need to launder their money first?
To make the money public?
No.
Laundering it, no matter how it's laundered, still requires paying taxes.
Only by paying taxes will the IRS not bother you.
In short.
Money that doesn't cause trouble for the IRS is money that can be made public.
In the evening.
When George returned home, Hawke and Gwen were in the living room with Helen watching the latest episode of Desperate Housewives.
Upon seeing George return home, Gwen immediately asked, "Dad, how is he?"
George, while taking off his coat, walked towards the bar. "He couldn't be saved."
Gwen was stunned. "Dead?"
Hawke, standing nearby, glanced at him, his eyes flickering slightly.
Not bad.
No need for further treatment.
Helen, already aware of what had happened, looked at George with concern.
"Why would anyone kidnap Gwen? Is it for you?"
"Allen is still investigating. "
George poured himself a glass of whiskey, stood behind the bar, took a sip, and then said to Helen, "Don't go out alone for a while.
We've also assigned two officers downstairs. Have them accompany you if anything happens. Safety first."
Helen and Gwen nodded in unison.
Arrogant criminals retaliating against police family members.
That's normal.
Helen and Gwen knew the next steps.
Hawke, seeing George return, also got up from the sofa. "Mr. Stacy, I'll head back now."
George looked at Hawke, nodded, and said,
"Thank you." "
You're welcome. Protecting Gwen is what I should do."
Hawke smiled.
Gwen escorted Hawke to the apartment door.
A police car was parked across the street, giving a sense of security.
"Then be careful."
"Don't worry."
Hawke smiled, said goodbye to Gwen, and headed towards the subway.
Soon.
Hawke, who had turned the corner and disappeared from Gwen's sight, stopped and took a deep breath.
The next second.
All five senses were activated!
…
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