The world of American TV series: Starting with the L.A. Patrol.

At Kuakini Medical Center in Honolulu, Danny patted the shoulder of an HPD officer standing at the door of the patient's room.

"Hey man, how about a coffee break?"

The police officer suppressed his smile and nodded, pointing to the end of the corridor, indicating that he would wait there.

"Thanks."

Danny pushed open the door of the ward and walked in with Jack, "You are Marku, right? Comescu's driver, right? It looks like the accident wasn't serious."

The person on the hospital bed was the driver of the Mercedes-Benz G, a young man who looked to be in his early 20s at most.

Jack patted his right leg in plaster and took a look at the records on the bed. "A few small fractures and a mild concussion. Congratulations, you're lucky. You'll be discharged in a week at most."

The young driver trembled with fear and subconsciously sat up from the hospital bed, but he pursed his lips tightly and did not say anything. Then he watched Jack take out handcuffs and handcuff his right hand to the bed.

"I'm not afraid of you. This is a ward and people outside will know what you did to me." The young driver named Marku did not pretend that he could not speak English. On the contrary, he spoke fluently and his accent was not heavy.

"Of course, you don't need to be afraid of me. You are a patient now. Don't worry, we won't do anything inhumane to a patient."

Danny took out a reagent bottle from his pocket with a smile, then took out a disposable syringe, and sucked the brown liquid in the reagent bottle into the syringe in front of him.

Watching his actions, Maku instantly became nervous, "What are you doing, what is this?"

Danny smiled happily, "To be honest, I don't know what this is. I found it in your laboratory. I think we will soon find out what it is."

After saying that, he pulled over the infusion set beside the bed and inserted the needle.

"I know my rights. You are American police. I will tell my lawyer everything you do." Marku said this but his eyes were fixed on the syringe.

"You're right, but the prerequisite is that someone has seen us enter your ward, right?" Jack took out another pair of handcuffs and handcuffed the guy's left hand to the bed, then looked at Danny with a smile.

"Will you tell anyone, Detective Williams?"

"Of course not, Supervisory Agent Tawalla from the FBI."

Danny smiled back, then his face turned serious and he pressed his finger to the tip of the syringe. "Where's Comescu?"

"Fuck you!" Marku answered very bluntly.

"Wrong answer." Danny pushed the entire reagent in decisively, and the beeping of the life monitor suddenly became rapid.

"What are you doing! Take away the needle! Take away this damn thing!"

Watching the brown-yellow medicine flowing along the transparent infusion tube toward his arm, all the hairs on Marku's body stood up and sweat kept oozing from his forehead.

"It looks like you have something to say." Danny turned the small wheel on the flow rate regulator of the infusion tube. "Okay, I'll stop for you. Tell me where Comescu is."

"I don't know where he is now, really! I swear!" Marku no longer had the confidence he had just had, and his face was filled with fear and panic.

"OK, let's continue." Danny was about to restore the flow rate of the infusion pump when he was stopped by Jack.

"Wait, this thing is too noisy, it will attract the nurse." Jack said as he reached out and removed the electrode patch of the vital monitor on Marku's chest, put it on himself, and then clamped the small clip on his finger.

"It's much quieter now. Look how steady my heartbeat is. How many bottles of virus did he take away in total?"

Danny began to creak as he turned the flow rate regulator wheel. To Marku's ears, the sound was like the footsteps of death. Seeing the brown liquid continue to flow through the transparent tube toward his arm, the guy was so scared that he begged for mercy.

"Stop! Stop! Stop now, 9 bottles! He took 9 bottles away!"

"Who's he going to sell it to?" Danny demanded.

"I don't know." Before Marku finished speaking, he shouted again, "Don't touch that damn thing. I only know that the transaction time is 4 o'clock this afternoon at the market in the International Plaza, but there seems to be an accident before that."

"What do you mean?" Danny frowned.

Marku swallowed, "When we went to get the goods, we found that everyone inside was dead. The patients, uh, the test subjects, were shot in the head, and the doctor ran away."

"What doctor? I need a name." Danny released the roller directly, and the brown-yellow liquid quickly flowed through the entire infusion tube.

"I don't know, I really don't know! I swear!" Marku burst into tears, with snot bubbles coming out of his nose.

Seeing this guy's complete mental breakdown, Danny and Jack laughed out loud instead, "Relax buddy, this is the vitamin B12 we asked the nurse for. It's said to help you get well soon."

"I can assure you of that. I guarantee it to you with half the credibility of a forensic doctor." Jack uncuffed him, patted his shoulder with a smile to comfort him, and then the two of them walked away in Marku's stunned expression.

-

"We have found a buyer. The Los Angeles office has just sent us information about an extreme separatist group called the Ingush Group in Russia. Photos were immediately sent to everyone's mobile phones.

These guys blew up a bus stop in Moscow last year.”

Standing on the second floor of a hamburger restaurant in the International Plaza in downtown Honolulu, the big bald Hannah glanced at Danny after he finished speaking and gossiped with some curiosity.

"Are you really related to that young FBI agent? Why can't I see anything in common between the two of you?"

"First of all, we are not related by blood. Jack's father is my childhood friend. Secondly, neither height nor driving skills are absolutely inherited." Danny obviously knew what this guy was going to say.

Hannah, who was exposed, stopped the discussion on this topic with a sly smile and asked others in the channel, "G, how is the situation over there?"

Cheng Hao was in the same group with G. Karen. The two were waiting near a fountain in the middle of the market.

"There's no trace of Comescu," Karen said, complaining somewhat dissatisfiedly, "I should have been the one to interrogate the driver."

"The FBI in Hawaii already had an extra expense to repair a car, I don't think they'd pay for a hospital room destroyed by a human-sized tornado.

Or, does NCIS not mind paying this little money?" Jack, who was lying on the rooftop and observing the entire market from top to bottom through a telescope, said to him.

To be honest, Karen was allowed to participate in the entire operation because of a certain old lady's face, and he must not be allowed to interfere in matters related to the confession.

Beating up that Marku was no big deal. Given the serious personal grudge between Comescu and Karen, this kind of report involving the joint investigation of three departments was very troublesome and could easily be criticized afterwards.

In front of Jack was a Mk12 SPR sniper rifle, one of the sniper rifles that Steve McGarrett had just transferred from the Navy over the phone after he complained about the poor equipment of "Five-O".

This sniper rifle is essentially still an AR-15, but it uses a match-grade free-floating stainless steel heavy barrel and a Mk 77 match-grade hollow-point bullet with a charge of 5 grains (262g), which is sufficient for close-range sniping missions in urban warfare.