"You can't do that, I'm the one who was attacked."

Procott was furious, he was almost killed, and he was arrested, are these bastards doing this?

Brock ignored him, straining his hands.

"Kata."

The handcuffs were firmly locked to Procott's wrists, holding him in check.

"Whoa, whoa."

Jackson stepped forward quickly and looked at Brock incredulously: "Lost, Waterfa?" ”

"Hood did it first, and my client was just defending himself."

Brock saw Hood's blue nose and swollen face, and replied in a fierce tone:

"Go to the court and say these words, stay away from me now, or I will handcuff you too."

Jackson knew that those of them in uniform had their own rules of the blue wall, and they would almost unconditionally support their colleagues when they were on the scene.

He took a few playful steps back and pulled out his phone to call the district attorney, which was what he should have done now.

"Don't be afraid."

Proctor glared at Hood fiercely, then looked at Rebecca, who was dressed in white: "Stay here, keep an eye on the progress of the renovation, and take care of the business." ”

"Call Borden to come back as soon as possible, I'll be fine soon."

Rebecca nodded silently, taking Procott's words to heart, and cast a hateful glance at Hood.

She couldn't understand why her uncle was arrested even though he was the one who was attacked.

Procott was quickly escorted away, and the club, which had been filled with gunfire, became quieter than the previous night.

Rebecca looked around at the clutter, the construction site-like club, and her figure swayed.

Soon she stood firm again, her eyes becoming determined.

Banshee Town Police Station, Ethan came out of the toilet, washed his hands and returned to his seat.

Emmett and Siobhan also returned to the police station after a day of patrol.

"Ethan, I thought you were over too?" Siobhan loosened his belt.

"Where to go?"

Ethan was puzzled and pulled out two tissues to wipe his hands.

"Sava had an accident again, Brock was over, and we thought you were with him."

Emmett replied to him, grabbing the radio:

"Brock, what's the situation now, do you need support?"

"That's it."

Brock said in a strange tone: "We're on our way back to the police station. ”

"We?"

Siobhan lifted his finger and nodded at the few people present to see who else could be with him.

"Okay, drive carefully." Emmett shrugged her shoulders and put down the radio.

Ethan picked up his cup and took a sip of his coffee.

On the bench outside the sheriff's office, there were several people sitting, all of whom had come to the police station to deal with related matters, and he didn't care.

But when he saw one of them, he got up and walked over.

"I remember you, you came here last time and wanted to interview for a police officer's position, right?"

The man in front of him was wearing a long-sleeved shirt, sitting upright, with a small moxican back, and Ethan still had a little impression of him.

He sat alone in the corner of the bench, for the simple reason that the swastika tattooed on this person's face made people afraid to approach.

"Yes, Officer Morgan."

The resolute-faced man stood up and said unhurriedly, "My name is Curt Bunker. ”

"Sit down."

Ethan waved his hand, "How do you know my name?" ”

"It's a small town."

Bunker nodded and sat down; "And a lot of people in town know about Officer Morgan."

"Is there anything you have to do here?"

Ethan took another sip of coffee: "It's still a job hunt." ”

"Yes, officer."

Bunker's eyes were firm: "I'll prove myself, even if it will take some time, but I'm prepared." ”

"Okay, then you can wait."

Ethan shook his head and was about to turn away, not knowing if Hood would come to the police station.

"Bang."

The glass door of the police station is pushed open, and Brock grabs Procott's arm and leads him in.

Procott's nose was blue and his face was swollen, and his white shirt was stained with blood.

Hood, who was still talking about it just now, followed closely.

He looked even worse than Procott, with the corners of his mouth swollen and an ice pack in his hand to put on his cheeks.

Ethan and the others looked at each other, all of them looking at Brock with questioning eyes.

Brock shook his head, opened the makeshift cell and pushed Proctor inside, then clanged the iron door shut.

Wait, isn't Sava attacked? How to lock up Procott.

Siobhan's mind was a little overwhelmed, and Procott kicked the bed inside in anger.

"It's obvious."

Emmett rubbed his nose: "It was the sheriff who clashed with Proctor in Savie. ”

Not knowing what was going on, Emmett cleverly used the word conflict to describe it.

Soon, the glass door was pushed open again.

"It's much worse than harassment, and I have a lot of eyewitnesses to prove that you shot my client."

Jackson walked in waving his hands, and a roar resounded through the police station:

"You're murdering."

"Shut up, or I'll throw you out." Hood didn't want to do it anyway, so he unceremoniously greeted him.

"Isn't there something wrong with your brain?"

This roar belonged to District Attorney Alison Madin, and it was hard to imagine that such a loud sound could erupt from such a small body.

Allison walked straight up to Hood, with a visible rage:

"What the hell are you thinking, do you know how bad this is for our prosecution?"

Although Procott was released on bail after paying a large amount of bail in the previous case, he can continue to be charged with other charges in the future.

Now that Hood has done this kind of thing, Jackson can easily nullify all the evidence previously found by the Banshee Town Police Department.

Hood understood her thoughts, but he didn't care either.

As long as he waited for everyone else to leave, he was going to shoot Proctor in his cell tonight.

So he shrugged his shoulders and said to Allison, "I don't care, whatever you say. ”

He left Alison, who was stunned on the spot, threw away the ice pack, and strode to the detention room, holding the iron cage with both hands, and there was no hiding murderous intent in his eyes.

A few simple words of dialogue, and now everyone understands what happened.

Brock spread his hands out to Ethan and shrugged his shoulders.

Just then, the roar of a car engine sounded, and it quickly approached the police station.

Outside, the streets were dimly lit.

Ethan looked out through the window pane, his pupils constricting sharply.

The sound of brakes sounded one after another, and more than a dozen cars of various types formed an encirclement posture against the police station.

The occupants jumped out of the car, all with guns in their hands.

Ethan's gaze quickly swept to the red button on the glass door, and he shook the cup in his hand against the red button with a strain of his arm.

As he threw the cup, he roared:

"Everybody get down."

(End of chapter)