WWII military commentator? Even a dog could be one.

54. Mr. Sean, can you have your driver train the Los Angeles Police Department?

Are you sure you can do it?

After finally managing to persuade the thugs to leave, and waiting another five minutes, Sheriff Deckard, covered in sweat, approached Sean.

Looking at the young man in front of him, whose name everyone had heard of, the sheriff felt a sense of anticipation.

"no."

"Damn!" No? The sheriff almost rolled up his sleeves and punched someone.

"There is uncertainty in any military operation, and there is no expectation of 100% success."

"So what's your estimate?"

"Sixty percent. After all, Heidel and his men are excellent soldiers, but they rarely save people; they are more adept at killing."

"Damn it, my men are following them. They're only considered to be assisting if there are police officers present. Sean, I hope I made the right choice this time."

The sheriff spoke with difficulty, and after hearing Sean's words, he deflated like a punctured balloon.

Upon reaching the police car, the paging station issued a call.

"Headquarters, Headquarters, calling Sheriff Deckard."

When he turned on the paging service, Deck felt a bit tired, not physically, but mentally.

"This is Deckard."

"Dike, how's the situation on site?"

"The bandits are excited; we're about to launch our operation."

"Launching an operation? Who gave you that authority? What if there are casualties among the hostages?"

"Inspector, as the sheriff and the highest-ranking commander on the scene, I have the authority to make decisions on the spot. You have no right to interfere," Deck shouted back.

Are you sure you can do it?

The other person's voice immediately softened.

"No, this is an attack strategy devised by Sean Wayne."

"What did you say? Sean Wayne? That critic, damn it, are you fucking insane?"

Snapped.

Deckard slammed the switchboard shut in frustration, looking at Sean with a grim expression. "God help me, I have no way out."

Sean shrugged. "That's the only way, unless you want to let them go and then have endless gunfights on the city streets, which would kill even more people."

Damn it! The sheriff knew, of course, that letting these people go would result in more civilian casualties.

Deck took out a cigarette, his fingers swiping the lighter repeatedly. "Are they really veterans?"

"Yes, and he's an elite shooting instructor with the Rifle Association." Sean lied, knowing he could get the certificate later.

Deck felt a little better.

"Did you see that? The police are taking action."

"Yes, I saw a few guys who weren't wearing uniforms."

"Are you a detective?"

"No, I came with Sean."

"No way? This operation is related to Sean?"

"I saw Sean issuing orders."

"My God, he's just a commentator, has the police gone mad?"

Hearing the noise outside, the sheriff waved his hand.

The surrounding police officers turned up their sirens to drown out all the noise.

Sean is no stranger to media scrutiny.

But right now, only these paratroopers can deal with the robbers; only they have the ability to come closest to the tactical intervention team, something the Los Angeles Police Department simply cannot do.

At the back door of Citibank, Hyde skillfully took out lock-picking tools.

The three police officers, wearing bulletproof vests, stared wide-eyed.

FUCK, they can pick locks?

With a click, Heidel leaned back and gently pushed open the iron door, while another person carefully observed from behind the wall.

"Please remain silent from now on."

After saying that, Heidel waved his hand, and the six people slowly entered the bank in a line.

As veterans, they immediately bent over and lowered their posture upon entering, pressing themselves against the wall and gripping the gun handles with both hands. They quickly mastered Sean's shooting stance.

Heidel crossed the corridor and hid by the sink in the restroom, cautiously peering out. He raised his right hand, making a fist gesture, while the others hid behind him at the restroom entrance.

He remembered what Sean had said: to remain silent and communicate entirely through gestures.

With another wave of their arms, the six paratroopers crouched low and sneaked into the tea room.

Heidel squatted on the ground, and a paratrooper in front of him pulled out a mirror from his person and scanned the situation in the hall.

Extending four fingers represents four robbers.

Touching his beard, a male.

Holding a weapon.

Then he gestured to his chest, indicating a woman.

The paratrooper grabbed his own neck.

The hostages are in a state of hostage-taking.

Heidel found that he could easily understand all the information.

After observing the scene, the paratrooper took out a pen and paper and drew a simple map, marking the locations of the hostages and the robbers. The two then returned to the break room.

Heidett pointed the drawing at everyone, then pointed to each of his men and marked the locations of the robbers.

One for each person, then Heidel raised his thumb and ran it across his neck.

The five paratroopers nodded in unison. They came from the same reconnaissance company and worked together very well.

After saying that, the six men carried their pistols and went to the corridor.

Heidel took out a mirror to observe the positions of the people inside, then took out a coin and rolled it on the ground.

Then extend your palm and swing it left and right, pressing your palm down.

This signaled to everyone to prepare and wait for a synchronized attack.

dong dong.

A slight noise came from the corner, and the four anxious robbers' taut nerves felt like they were being snipped by scissors.

Face mask A suddenly turned her head and looked at a corner of the hall.

"There's a sound. You two go check it out. Is there anyone else we haven't caught? These damn cops are stalling for time. We have three minutes left. Once three minutes are up, we'll rush out with the hostages. We can't wait any longer."

"But the surrounding traffic has been blocked, and it would be difficult to escape if we tried to force our way out."

"We're really unlucky. We've been observing the patrol times of the patrol cars, they shouldn't be here so early."

"Shut up, go check it out!" Masked A yelled at his three companions.

"Damn it, I just checked and there's no one there."

Face towels B and D released the female employee they were holding and carried Thompson with both hands.

Heidel put away the mirror, nodded to everyone, and everyone held their breath for a moment. They weren't nervous like the new recruits, but stared intently at the corner. They were already familiar with killing.

The moment the two robbers' bodies were exposed against the corner of the wall.

Three paratroopers raised their pistols.

Heidel took a deep breath and immediately led the other two out of the corner.

"Who is it?"

Bang bang bang bang!

A hail of bullets struck the opponent's body.

Before the remaining two could react, three men in plainclothes had already raised their pistols at them.

Boom!

Each person was fired two shots in quick succession. Heidel moved slowly, raising his pistol and aiming it at the heads of A and C.

Boom!

After finishing off the enemy, he turned around and looked at everyone.

"Captain, this way of holding a gun is very effective."

"Shut up, we've already retired."

"I'm sorry, but this position is really useful, and it allows me to fire steadily while moving. I feel like I could kill them all by myself."

Yes, upon hearing his subordinate's words, Heidel looked at Colt in his hand. Mr. Sean was truly an amazing man; their training over this period of time seemed to have brought about tremendous changes in them.

Hanni breathed a deep sigh of relief upon seeing that they were paratroopers.

The three police officers following behind entered the hall.

"My God, they killed all four robbers in less than two seconds."

"They were like a bunch of killing machines."

Heidett raised his chin and smiled at the officer, looking somewhat proud. "We're professionals."

Deckard and Sean moved aside, while the surrounding reporters stared intently at them.

One of them even raised his hand and shouted.

"Sheriff Deckard, do you have some kind of unethical deal with Sean Wayne?"

What?

Both of them stopped smoking and looked in the direction of the police tape.

"Which newspaper do you work for?"

"I am a reporter for The New York Times."

It turned out to be his old rival. Sean exhaled a puff of smoke and walked towards him. He wanted to say the same thing as Chuan Chuan: "I'll make you lose your job."

"There are no deals here, and certainly no conspiracies."

"Then why did the police take you in? Why did they follow your instructions? Why are they treating you specially? Mr. Sean, where is your driver? What are they doing?"

Can you take responsibility for your actions?

"I can."

As soon as the words were spoken, a group of people rushed out of the bank's doors.

The police officers outside rushed up and pulled them aside.

Three police officers wearing steel wire bulletproof vests stood at the door shouting excitedly.

"All the robbers are dead, the hostages are safe, and no one was injured. Sheriff, those guys had a strange shooting style, but they were very skilled."

"Oh my god!"

Everyone was looking in the direction of the bank. Was no one injured?

Deckard, beaming with excitement, rushed to Sean's side. "Mr. Sean, could you have your driver train our officers?"

What?

The media reporters all pricked up their ears.

Why would a police sergeant say something so absurd as to have a driver train police officers?