Super Detective in the Fictional World

The thousands of casualties, the emergency services of many hospitals in the super metropolitan city of New York, could not be eaten, and many seriously injured people might have died before they went to the operating table.

Luke has begun to use the light of life to hang as many of the most seriously injured lives as possible.

But he couldn't help it if he was injured in the head, or if he was bleeding extensively.

At the same time, splitting up and changing a stranger's face went to the Queens subway station for rescue.

Compared to this honor, there is little concern about using the light of life separately. Just cover it up a little, it is much more efficient than this honor.

Even so, there are bound to be many wounded who will die in time for rescue.

In about half an hour, he completed the initial rescue of the station.

In a screaming cry at the subway station, he called Selena and the two returned to the ground.

He did everything he could, and the rest could only be handed over to patrol police and paramedics who arrived.

The scene is already one of the luckiest of the eight MRT stations, as Luke and his men were nearby at the time of the explosion.

Neither of them delayed, and then drove to another subway station in the Brooklyn area.

Three MRT stations in Queens are working together, and Luke and the two of us can handle three MRT stations in Brooklyn.

As for the two stations that exploded in Manhattan, there were several nearby hospitals, much better than in the two districts here, and it was to be hoped that those rescuers would be strong enough.

And while Luke and Selena were busy here, there was a lot of confusion at the station.

Most of the agents rushed to the subway station, and the rest of the clerks were busy.

The phones on the desk, the phones in their pockets rang ups and downs, making them busy.

Where a police acquaintance reports to the police, relatives and friends inquire about the situation.

The weather in the afternoon of May is very irritating at this moment, with all sweating and many people's voices starting to shudder.

As the head of the police station, Dustin didn't make a move.

He must stay in the bureau to ensure unimpeded communication with both sides.

However, he was not at the office, but at the door of the office.

Anyone with unsolvable problems can come and ask him directly.

In the meantime, he takes the time to look at the activity of several discussion groups on his phone.

Forget this big group of detectives, the information inside is increasing completely by brushing the screen, it doesn't even look like it.

In the group with Luke and Elsa, there's not much information, but it's all important.

Luke and Elizabeth sneak up on intelligence for research when they're okay. Elsa and Elizabeth have an executive position at headquarters and a network information-gathering officer, both of whom work in old intelligence.

In addition to ensuring each other's safety, the rest of the information is necessary and sophisticated.

Unlike the police force, more than a hundred detectives leave voicemails directly cursing the streets.

They're not colleagues in the scolding group, they're scolding the HQ boss for not sending backup or something.

Several Afro-descendant detectives are more ethnically talented, scolding people for their RAP feelings.

But Luke believes that these abusive RAPs will all be withdrawn within an hour or two at most.

What you say doesn't count. It's a classic feature on flying.

It amply demonstrates that what is said in the flying message can not only go faster, it can also go faster.

At this moment, the Dustin office phone rang and he walked over and picked it up.

A man's voice came from the phone: "Hello, is this Inspector Dustin-Hammer? ”

Dustin frowned: “It's me, who are you? ”

The man on the other end of the phone laughed down: "Sampler-Simon once told the party people that the show was coming up. Give me your pie, or I'll rip your head off. Look, the subway station is just the beginning. Well, you got a John McClane over there, don't you? ”

Dustin tapped his hand gently on the table and paused: “He's been on indefinite leave. ”

The other side of the phone laughed: "No, he has to be there, he has to be there today. ”

Dustin: “Who are you? ”

The man on the phone: "You can call me Simon. ”

Dustin: “What do you want? ”

Simon over the phone: “I want to play a game. ”

Dustin: “What game? ”

Simon: “You can call it -- Simon said. Simon would tell Officer McLane what to do, and Officer McLane would have to, and non-compliance would lead to punishment. ”

Dustin's heart pounded and his face sank: “What punishment? ”

Simon chuckles: “There will be another big“ accident ”at the downtown subway station. ”

A moment later, Dustin hung up and picked up his office phone and dialed John's number.

Half a minute later, he put his phone away and walked up to the door with a dark line, raising the volume and yelling, “Connie, do you know where John is? ”

Connie hid the microphone in her hand: "I don't know, maybe she was drunk in some dumpster. ”

Dustin holds the forehead, and he guesses so.

Helpless, he could only send a message from the group to John and Joe individually.

The message to John was to get him in touch with himself immediately.

Leave a message to Joe and tell him to drop everything in his hand, find John the bastard first, and call the bureau.

Half an hour later, in an operational logistics vehicle, Joe picked up the painkillers she had brought out of the police station from Connie's side, along with a bottle of mineral water, and delivered them to John, who was sitting on the floor.

Dustin and several Detective Bureau backbones circled in half, rising above the ground and hurting all over his face.

Steady people like Dustin couldn't help but spit: “Jesus, John, you look like a shi. ”

He told John not to drink too much and get some rest.

Now, at first glance, it turns out that all that was said to the dog.

John, don't listen to me. He's hungover. He's got a headache.

After two painkillers Joe poured out, he lifted his hand up.

Joe shook the bottle again helplessly, adding two more tablets to him, otherwise John would have a headache to do what Simon called "the thing," and the guy might have gone on strike.

He swallowed the painkillers, pulled out a cigarette light, took a sip, and then asked, "Well, what was the lottery number last night? ”

Everyone spoke with one voice: "4667. ”

John shrugged: “Looks like we're done. ”

Everyone is speechless.

More than half of the people in NYPD like to bet with their own alarm name. It's kind of a fight. They want to win the prize, but it's not normal to win. Nobody takes it seriously.

Everyone knows each other well, remember each other's alarm numbers, so every time you draw a lottery, you know who didn't win.

“Almost to the Hell's Kitchen, boss.” The police officer driving ahead, Billy, cautioned.

Dustin Full of Black Line: You deserve to drive in Billy's life! Even if you don't mean the Clinton District, you can say the street name and mention the Hell's Kitchen.