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

Chapter 85 KITT?

Jack showed a shy smile and pointed to the scratched corner of his mouth, indicating that he was not intact either.

"Maybe that guy's bones were brittle. The situation was more urgent and I had to go all out."

In fact, although Jack's fighting skills have reached proficiency, he was able to quickly defeat two killers today without using any skills. It was all due to his superhuman physique. The thin arms and legs of the female killer could not break through the defense at all, and the muscular body of the bald man It looks bluffing, but he's basically just a guy, not much better than those gym war gods.

If he really wanted to switch to the gang of killers with barcodes tattooed on the backs of their bare heads, Jack would have to give himself up with healing skills before giving up his gun and fighting in melee combat.

Ray King and David Rossi seemed to be familiar with each other. I don’t know if they had any interactions before. The two whispered for a while, and then the skinny old man left a few IRS agents to protect Mecia and left in a hurry.

David Rossi didn't come here specifically for Jack. He probably came to LA for business and came over for a quick meeting, but it was obvious that he was very satisfied with Maureen's recommendation.

Knowing that Jack had stayed up all night, he was still very concerned and asked to go back and rest early, showing off his leadership early.

"We will meet again soon and hope our first collaboration goes well."

Without a single word, David Rossi said goodbye and left the hospital.

"Long time no see?" The crowd finally left, and Maureen looked at Jack with a strange look.

Jack, who offered to stay and take Professor Cahill home, looked ill-intentioned.

"There is an old saying in Siris that one day is like three autumns apart, which means..."

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Dividing line---

Before Jack's administrative leave was over, John couldn't wait to drag him out of the house and put him into his newly purchased Toyota Tundra.

Until he saw the street sign of San Fernando Valley, someone couldn't help but feel a little scared. Could this old rookie have added a new side job recently?

"Where are we going?"

If John didn't make it clear, Jack would be tempted to jump out of the car. He has always been a showman but not a person. This place is too dangerous. No matter how much money there is, he can't do movies or anything like that.

"I found the car you wanted." John's tone couldn't hide his pride.

"A classic muscle car from the 80s. It is said to be very well preserved, and the owner is asking for it for only 5000."

"In the 80s? Only $5000?"

Jack suspected that if there wasn't something wrong with his ears, then there was something wrong with John's brain.

His second-hand junk car originally cost 3000 yuan. Muscle cars from the 80s are not classic cars with room for appreciation. Why would he dare to sell it for 5000 yuan?

"You will be surprised when you see it, I swear!"

John looked confident, but Jack could only hold his reservations.

The 40-minute journey was not too far, and soon John drove the car into a farm. Under the guidance of an old man who looked to be at least 80 years old, he stopped in front of a dilapidated barn.

"Hello Mr. Robbins, please let my friend see your baby."

Looking at John's look as if he was on a pilgrimage, if he hadn't been familiar with this guy's personality, Jack would have almost thought that he had colluded with the seller to deceive people.

The old man came to the barn door tremblingly and tried to open the door with difficulty. Jack and John quickly stepped forward to help.

"This... this is KI, is it a Pontiac Firebird?"

Jack was stunned and pointed at the black sports car in the middle of the barn, stuttering with excitement when he spoke.

John looked like he knew you would be like this, and corrected himself proudly: "To be precise, this is a 1982 Pontiac Firebird TRANS-AM."

Jack ignored the thick dust accumulated on the car and tried to open the cab door. Although he noticed at first glance that there was no iconic red breathing light on the front of the car, what he really saw in the cab was that there were no fancy dashboards or anything similar to a racing car. When I turned on the steering wheel, I was still a little disappointed.

Well, there is indeed no sci-fi American TV series sewn into this world. Naturally, there will be no Knight Industries, no KITT, and no 2000, the world-destroying thugs running rampant in Los Santos.

But touching the graceful and smooth streamlined lines of the car body, Jack almost shed tears.

In fact, John completely misunderstood Jack. He was not a big fan of American muscle cars. Originally, he was just a bit fond of dragons. Hannah's Ford Mustang Cobra GT500 had always made him jealous, so he thought about getting a second-hand American muscle car for fun. Play.

He never expected that by some strange combination of circumstances, John would help find such a car that he had dreamed of since he was a child.

Seeing that Jack couldn't put it down, John used his expertise and chatted with the old man for a while, and actually cut the price by another 500 dollars.

After paying a deposit of 200 yuan and making an appointment to find a truck to haul it a week later, the two of them embarked on the return journey.

"The barn is very dry. Although the car hasn't been started in thirty years, the odometer shows less than 2W miles. The body of the car is in very good condition. I also contacted a modification shop for you. They promised that it only costs 2000 yuan. Give this car a new lease of life.”

John was very considerate, but Jack obviously wanted more. He Googled the introduction of this car on his mobile phone while thinking about it, and soon he had some new ideas in his mind.

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Dividing line---

The Wilshire Police Station was particularly lively today. Not only did the outgoing Superintendent Anderson make a rare appearance, but Jack also saw several familiar faces.

David Rossi, wearing an Italian handmade suit, and another strange middle-aged man stood next to Zoe. Hondo, the captain of the SWAT team whom he had not seen for a long time, also appeared in the back row of the conference room.

Even Taylor Kelly, the host of a certain Channel 8 news, was waiting outside the conference room with a microphone and a cameraman, waving at Jack.

Superintendent Gray looked serious, nodded and stood on the podium, "At five o'clock this morning, the California Women's Central Prison will transfer prisoner No. 081316. The prisoner's name is Rosalind Dyer, a rare female serial murderer."

"For five years, she has been held in a solitary individual cell, and today, she will be turned over to our police department. Before I assign the task, I would like to invite FBI Special Agent in Charge David Rossi and the Assistant District Attorney. Sean Delmonte, providing background information on prisoner Dale."

David Rossi greeted Superintendent Gray politely, then stood on the podium, glanced at the people below, paused slightly at Jack's position, and showed a smile, as if to say, I said we would be here soon. We'll meet again.

"Good morning everyone."

"Some of you here may not be familiar with this case. In 2015, Rosalind Dyer was captured by the FBI after murdering seven people, and was eventually sentenced to death."

"But there is evidence that there may be more actual victims. Even among the seven known victims, three bodies have not yet been found."

"Today, with the efforts of the district attorney, we reached a condition with Dale, and she agreed to lead the police to find the location where the body was hidden."

The tone of David Rossi's last sentence was a little weird. Although his English had always had a bit of an Italian accent, Jack swore that he definitely heard a yin and yang flavor in it.