Chapter 663 - 428: Nephew
West Yellowstone City.
This quiet little city, named after Yellowstone National Park, had a permanent population of just over one thousand people.
Due to its limited population, it didn’t have its own police department.
There was only a sheriff’s office tasked with a series of duties, including daily patrols, criminal investigations, and traffic management.
Within the intricate power structure of the United States Federal Government,
the position of Sheriff was rather unique and nuanced.
A Sheriff was not a public service position but an official elected by the people, possessing a special legal status and function.
Locally, the Sheriff was regarded by the public as the highest-ranking law enforcement officer.
In certain specific situations, their authority even surpassed that of the local police chief.
This special empowerment was meant to better maintain local law and order.
In practice, however, it gave rise to numerous problems.
Especially in jurisdictions at the town or city level.
The staff of the sheriff’s office was almost entirely composed of lifelong local residents.
Their ties to the local community were deep and tangled, which made connections between them and local gangs inevitable.
Take West Yellowstone City, for example.
A Biker Gang had emerged in its jurisdiction, acting unscrupulously and brazenly engaging in all sorts of illegal activities.
So, as the city’s Sheriff, Mr. Sean Levin...
...could he possibly be ignorant of this situation?
The answer was obviously no.
Because without a certain degree of protection from the Sheriff, it would be impossible for a gang to exist in the area long-term.
The situation was just like the plots in American movies where the sheriff colludes with gangs, but in real life, the reality was far darker and more sordid than anything shown on screen.
Faced with this deep-rooted social problem, the United States Federal Government, despite its supreme authority in theory,
felt utterly powerless in practice.
On one hand, local power structures were intricate and deeply entrenched; any single action could have widespread repercussions.
On the other hand, loopholes in the legal system and numerous obstacles during enforcement often left the federal government in a difficult position when trying to tackle such issues.
Ultimately, they could only allow this undesirable phenomenon to continue festering and spreading in some areas.
So, when a criminal called the Sheriff’s office to report a kidnapping,
Sheriff Sean Levin listened to the description.
He just felt it was a bit of an exaggeration.
West Yellowstone City wasn’t some southern financial hub, nor did it have any billionaires with vast fortunes.
Besides, it was the off-season for tourism. Restaurants and hotels were nearly all closed, so there was no large amount of cash flowing in or out.
Why would an out-of-town gang choose this time to strike?
Sheriff Sean privately speculated,
’Those bastards from the Biker Gang must have gotten way too high and made up this absurd story.’
Based on this judgment,
Sheriff Sean didn’t take the matter to heart and simply had his nephew, Little Tom, who was patrolling downtown, go take a look.
Who knew that not long after, a shocking message would come over the radio.
It instantly shattered his initial assumption.
Sheriff Sean sat in his office, his brow furrowed and his eyes filled with confusion.
’What the criminal said on the phone was actually true.’
’A group of wandering outsiders had actually come to West Yellowstone City.’
’More than a dozen of them, and every single one was carrying heavy weapons.’
’Even the local gangsters took a hit.’
’What the hell are they planning to do?’
’A kidnapping?’
He then raised his head.
He looked at the two middle-aged deputy sheriffs in front of his desk. Including his nephew who was out on patrol and now calling for help,
four people...
...that was the entirety of West Yellowstone City’s law enforcement.
"Boss, what do we do now?"
A deputy with some flecks of white in his middle-aged hair asked nervously.
Underneath Sheriff Sean’s dark brown uniform hat, a few wisps of gray-white hair peeked out from his temples. The crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes bunched up as he couldn’t stop himself from cursing at the deputy who had asked the question.
"Fuck, how should I know what to do! Where the hell did these bastards come from? There’s nothing of value in West Yellowstone City. Are they planning to steal Yellowstone Park or something?"
"But Little Tom is calling for backup. Maybe we should request reinforcements from the County Sheriff," the other middle-aged deputy suggested in a low voice, a hint of hesitation in his eyes as if afraid of angering Sheriff Sean again.
"Bullshit. Who knows when the county could get people here," Sheriff Sean snarled, his anger directed at his nephew. "Is Little Tom a fucking idiot? Rushing in all by himself... Does he think he’s Rambo?"
With that, he slammed his hand on the desk, making the papers on it jump.
The anger on his face became more pronounced, his gaze filled with both disapproval and worry over his nephew’s impulsive actions.
The deputy who had been yelled at shrugged. He didn’t say anything, but he was complaining wildly in his head.
’Hmph. It’s only because Little Tom is the Sheriff’s nephew.’
’He got put on patrol without any training.’
’That idiot does nothing productive. All he ever does is drink, hang out at bars, and hit on women.’
’And now look. He’s probably going to get himself killed.’
At that moment, the deputy with the salt-and-pepper hair asked timidly, "Boss, should we bring the long guns for backup?"
"No shit!" Sheriff Sean’s eyes widened as he roared irritably. "Didn’t you hear what Little Tom said on the radio? They’re all heavily armed! What good are our few handguns going to do? Grab the Remingtons and the vests. Now, move!"
The atmosphere in the Sheriff’s office grew tense and heavy.