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

"Since you treat this as a vacation, then I'll go to Detroit with you. It just so happens that I still have a few days of vacation left." As soon as Jack said this, the others couldn't help but look at him sideways.

"Really?" John showed an overjoyed expression, but then he came to his senses and shook his head quickly, "Forget it. Don't let my little matter delay your return to New York to celebrate the New Year with your friends."

"Our New Year's Eve celebration was cancelled. Hannah planned to stay in the house and play games for a whole week. Some people (Jiejie) went to spend the New Year with their parents, and the others had their own plans."

Jack spread his hands helplessly and said, "So I'm free, and I'm just looking for a place to play for a couple of days." Then he gave a brief account of the unfortunate case that the wanted criminal team had just experienced.

"It does sound uncomfortable and depressing." Nila Harper wiped away the tears from the corners of her eyes, picked up the wine glass under Jack's surprised gaze, and gestured to him the juice inside.

"It's all pregnancy hormones. I've been feeling this way from time to time lately."

Jack followed her line of sight and looked down, only then noticing her slightly bulging belly, "Ahaha, congratulations on becoming a mother again."

After this interruption, everyone started laughing again, and after Tim's whispered explanation, John gave up the idea of ​​trying to dissuade Jack from going with him.

After all, that's Detroit, a city that even "RoboCop" couldn't suppress. Although after decades of decline and eventual city bankruptcy, the area is said to be gradually recovering.

But the restored areas are limited to the satellite towns around Detroit. Except for a small area in the core of the city center, less than half a mile from the General Motors Center, you can see weeds and abandoned buildings everywhere.

It's obvious that a union chairman would never be kind enough to arrange John to work in areas with good public security.

"So which branch is John going to?" Lucy curiously opened the electronic map on her phone.

"Precinct 13, one of the oldest police stations in Detroit, is currently planning to relocate. It will move to a new location after the New Year. Some veteran police officers are about to retire, and some have been transferred to other precincts, so there is a shortage of staff."

Gray obviously did his homework as soon as he received the application.

"The 13th Police Station?" Lucy quickly found the target on the map, and then used Google Street View to check it out. "It seems like there is a factory area around it?"

Angela leaned over to her phone and looked at it, frowning, "Damn, this place looks like a ruin."

"That's why they want to go to the new police station. The factory area there has completely declined, and it's very close to Detroit's most dangerous East Side. But the good news is that the decline there is thorough enough that it's not that dangerous. It's said that there are even coyotes nearby."

Gray's words made everyone look at each other in surprise. From the map, this place is considered to be an urban area, but they can still see large wild animals here. This shows how desolate this city is.

-

"I really think we should carry more guns." Jack showed an FN57 to the airport security. After he confirmed that the gun and bullet were separated, he put it back into the special gun box and locked it with the combination lock.

This was the umpteenth time that he had been looking forward to the business jet that Rossi had promised to the wanted criminals team. The procedures for carrying a gun on a domestic flight were very complicated. Even for a federal agent like him, the procedures for carrying an extra spare gun on the plane were extremely troublesome.

John, a LAPD officer who is considered a civilian outside of Los Angeles, has a much more complicated procedure to carry a gun on a plane than a federal agent. He has to fill out several extra forms. He looked up and complained, "I really don't understand why you insist on me bringing my regular gun."

"Because someone told me, never trust a weapon you haven't personally tested. Of course, if your shooting skills are as good as your driving skills, then you can ignore what I said."

Jack was quite impressed by John's driving skills, because he never used them in his daily life and his large vehicle driving skills were still at the entry level.

The Belgian-made FN57, also known as "Cop Killer", that Jack carried with him came from Chris's collection. He specially brought it from the secret arsenal under the Wolf Brothers Farm for this trip to Detroit.

Tim helped to use a back door and entered the gun serial number into the system an hour before they arrived at the airport. Otherwise, even if Jack revealed his FBI identity, he would not be able to bring a hidden gun onto the plane.

This semi-automatic pistol uses a strange 5.7x28mm caliber pistol bullet and has a magazine capacity of up to 20 rounds. Its small recoil and excellent armor-piercing performance seem to be very contradictory.

In fact, the performance of FN57 when using ordinary civilian 5.7mm pistol bullets is almost the same as that of 9mm Parabellum pistol bullets, and may even be slightly inferior due to its lighter weight.

But apart from the Europeans who are particularly good at bragging, the military-grade SS190 ammunition, whether used in the FN57 or its big brother P90 submachine gun, has the absolute ability to penetrate the soft bulletproof vests equipped by the police within the effective range and ensure considerable damage aftereffects.

This is the origin of the nickname "Cop Killer" for FN57, and it is also the reason why Jack insisted that his team members work hard to exercise and not be bothered to insert an extra bulletproof plate in the front and back when they go on missions.

Although guns are rampant in the United States and one can get a working gun for just a hundred dollars on the black market, the bullets for civilian models are generally unremarkable, at least in terms of armor-piercing ability.

LAPD patrol officers like John usually use ordinary soft bulletproof vests when they go out on duty. No one would deliberately sit in a police car with two plates inserted in the front and back for a whole day, as that would really cause prickly heat.

But for the wanted criminal team that deals with a bunch of gangsters on a daily basis, whether it is rifle bullets used by long guns or military steel core pistol bullets with special coatings, there is not much difference between police soft bulletproof vests and paper ones in front of these ammunitions.

Although his sidearm is a SIG Sauer P57-XTen that uses 10mm NATO bullets and is more powerful than the FN320, he is considering going to dangerous Detroit with John, a guy who is as troublesome as himself.

Jack, who didn't bring his FK7.5 this time, thought about it and decided to get himself a spare gun just in case.

There was no conversation along the way. After more than 4 hours of flight, when Jack and John drove away from Detroit Metropolitan Airport in a rented Subaru SUV, they were greeted by heavy snow.

"It seems that your union chairman really put a lot of effort into it. Not only is he extremely efficient, but he also picked a good day." Jack teased as he looked at the navigation to identify the road.

Tomorrow is New Year's Day. Before New Year's Eve, Jack was driven out of warm Los Angeles and came to snowy Detroit to enjoy the severe cold of more than 10 degrees below zero. Even the usually optimistic John couldn't help but make a bitter face and shook his mobile phone in front of Jack.

"The weather forecast says there will be a snowstorm tonight."

"Stop talking. I already regret accompanying you on this journey."

Jack braked and slowed down slightly to identify the road signs, then carefully turned the steering wheel and turned the last corner. A scene like the end of the world appeared before the two of them.

Looking through the flying snow, in the distance are rows of high-voltage iron towers, and nearby are an equally astonishing number of tall chimneys.

But the high-voltage wires on the towers had long been drooping to the ground, and there was no smoke at the tops of the tall chimneys. With Jack's extraordinary vision, he could clearly see the dilapidated factory buildings and twisted and deformed rails below the chimneys.

Fortunately, their destination was within sight. After passing an abandoned chapel that had fallen into disrepair and not even a single stained glass window was left intact, the Subaru stopped next to a flagpole with a faded American flag hanging on it.

"The last time I saw such a quiet snowy place was in damn Wyoming." Jack looked at the old brownstone building in front of him and felt an old atmosphere of the 50s.

"Is this the 13th police station?"