Chapter 6: Wanted Notice

Hannah nodded. "Detective Hunter and Detective McCall were quite the figures in the LAPD during the '80s and '90s. Of course, I know them. Especially Detective McCall, as one of the few outstanding female detectives in a male-dominated era, she's been an idol for all of us female officers."

"They live on Maryland Street. Do you know them?" She suddenly turned to look at Jack.

Know them? Jack thought. In his previous life, nearly everyone born in the '70s and '80s in Ceres knew this duo. "Hunter," the American TV show, was one of the first shows most Ceres families watched after getting their first TV.

"They live together? You mean they're married?" Jack keenly sensed something was off. In his past life, he vividly remembered that the beautiful Dee Dee had married some random doctor, which had frustrated countless Ceres viewers, and made Jack a lifelong critic of TV show writers.

"Of course, they've been married for over a decade now. They're also the most envied couple at the LAPD. The department invites them to anniversary events every year."

Jack breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back in the passenger seat. If Hunter and Dee Dee's relationship could deviate from the original storyline, he felt more confident in saving Zoe's fate.

They arrived home soon after, and as Jack was about to go upstairs to sleep, he remembered something and called out, "Hannah, could you take me to visit Detective Hunter and Detective McCall sometime?"

Hannah nodded in confusion but didn't ask further questions.

The next day, in the briefing room.

Duty Commander Wade Gray entered the bustling briefing room with a somber face, and the originally chattering officers immediately fell silent.

Commander Gray, with his somewhat middle-aged and overweight figure, looked particularly grim today. He took out a stack of A4 papers, distributed them one by one to everyone, and then said loudly, "This is an internal wanted notice for Lance Selby. He violated parole yesterday. If the danger level is rated from one to ten, this guy's at twelve."

"This man previously attempted murder with a carpenter's hammer and was sentenced to five years in prison. Whoever brings him in from the streets will receive heartfelt thanks from the higher-ups and two tickets to Sunday's Super Bowl."

Hearing the murmurs below, Commander Gray paused and scanned the room with a stern gaze. "Be aware, intelligence indicates he might have accomplices and could be armed with automatic weapons. Be extremely cautious."

The wanted notice showed a disheveled white man, around 35 years old, with a plain appearance but notable bulging eyes.

Jack and Angela headed to the armory, where Angela indicated that besides the usual Ithaca-12 shotgun, Jack should also take two M16 rifles.

After checking the firearms, Angela asked, "How's your rifle shooting?"

Jack carefully placed the equipment in the trunk and replied, "About the same as my handgun skills. Excellent scores using iron sights at 100 meters."

As they drove off, Jack, noticing Angela had no further instructions, asked, "Aren't we going to try and find the fugitive?"

Angela, confident, replied, "The other two teams will actively search for clues. We just need to monitor internal communications. Capturing such a dangerous criminal isn't a solo job; they'll definitely call for backup."

Angela seemed more concerned about her lunch than the fugitive. "What are we having for lunch today? Is it the same fried dish from yesterday? I really liked it."

Jack, thinking she was a foodie, replied honestly, "I originally made enough scallion oil noodles for three people this morning, but Hannah took most of it. I have some left for you, along with rice, garlic broccoli, and fried pork chops. We'll need to find a place with a microwave to heat it up."

"No problem, leave that to me. I know where we can find a microwave."

Angela tilted her head and looked at him curiously. "Jack, are you really only 21?"

Jack sighed, "If you were forced to live alone at 18, supporting yourself with a small grocery store left by your parents while saving for college, you'd learn to cook and take care of yourself too."

"In fact, I've always wondered why, when cooking tutorials are readily available online, and cooking for yourself saves money and satisfies your taste buds, young people in this country still prefer just eating burgers."

Angela laughed, "I guess that's why I doubt your age. Your behavior and mindset seem more like those born in the disco era, like old-timers."

Jack nodded in agreement. "Indeed, compared to Lucy, I have more in common with John."

He was eager to solidify his mature persona to avoid being exposed as a time traveler. Although Americans might not have this concept, the priest still performed exorcisms, and being suspected of demonic possession would be even more troublesome.

Angela looked at the young man driving seriously and was momentarily distracted by his overly handsome face.

"What's up?" After a while of silence, Jack glanced at her.

"Nothing, I was just thinking how much easier our job would be if all young people in this country were as mature and disciplined as you." Angela tried to hide her wandering thoughts, touching her slightly warm cheeks.

The morning patrol was quite relaxed. They only issued two traffic tickets, and it was already noon.

Returning to the lunch spot from yesterday, Angela eagerly took the large lunch box to a nearby convenience store to heat the food, while Jack bought two bottles of Coke. Just as he sat down, two other rookie teams arrived.

"Hey, John, Lucy, any news on the fugitive?"

Lucy shook her head, while John, looking excited, couldn't wait to sit down and said, "We found an accomplice of Lance Selby, named Dallis Nguyen. He owns a registered gym. We're planning to check it out after lunch."

Jack nodded. "If there's any news, make sure to update the internal channel. This guy is extremely dangerous, not someone one or two teams can handle."

After lunch, Jack and Angela continued their patrol. The daily routine of a patrol officer was indeed monotonous. In fact, even in his previous life in the USA, despite rampant gun violence and crime, more than half of frontline officers never fired their guns throughout their careers.

Of course, in this strange TV drama world, Jack never expected to live a peaceful life. A mere street patrol officer wasn't the career end he had planned for himself. Maybe the FBI would be a good option.

The higher you go, the more freedom, but also the greater the risk.

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