PART 41

Stan walked out of the prison, and the sky was already starting to brighten. He felt restless and couldn't sleep.

He just wanted to find a place to drink and blow off some steam.

Sitting in the car, his friend asked, "Do you want me to take you home, Stan?"

Just as Stan was about to tell him the name of a bar, he suddenly remembered what Jason had said to him and quickly changed his mind, saying, "No, let's go to the safe house in Queens."

In the safe house, Franklin paced restlessly in the living room.

It had been three days since Jason's arrest, and all Franklin could do was sit at home and watch TV.

"Franklin, it's me," Stan's voice suddenly appeared at the door.

Franklin's face lit up with joy, and he quickly opened the door, asking, "How's the boss? The news said he's in jail, is it true?"

Stan slumped on the sofa, grabbed a beer and took a swig. "It's true. Not only that, but the prison he's in is a military fortress. There are less than 300 prisoners, but over 1,000 guards. It's impossible to rescue Jason by force alone."

Franklin's smile faded, and he anxiously asked, "What are we going to do? Aren't you the Director of the Drug Enforcement Administration? Can't you do something?"

Stan shook his head helplessly. While he was the Director of the DEA, he didn't have the power to release prisoners.

"However," Stan frowned and said, "Jason doesn't seem worried at all. He said something very strange to me."

Stan recounted what Jason had told him to Franklin.

"Huh? Go out and do bad things in his name? What's the point?" Franklin asked, his sarcasm dripping.

Stan agreed with him, "Exactly. Anyone with a normal IQ would find that sentence problematic."

After a moment of silence, Franklin's eyes lit up with excitement, "I get it! The boss wants us to do something and use it as leverage to force the government to release him."

Stan shook his head, speechless. "Have you been watching too many Hollywood movies? That kind of plot is mission impossible in reality."

But Franklin was undeterred, convinced he understood what Jason meant, "It must be like this! Let's get planning."

Stan sighed and took out a piece of paper, analyzing and drawing as he spoke. "Jason said we have to be insane when we do bad things, and the bigger the better. I don't think there's anything more conspicuous than a bomb attack in Times Square."

Franklin nodded in agreement, but added his own twist, "I agree with the bomb attack, but I think it should be at a different location."

Stan asked curiously, "Where?"

Franklin sneered, "The New York Police Department Headquarters!"

"Hush!" Stan whispered. He couldn't help taking a deep breath before finally saying with admiration, "You're such a ruthless person! But have you thought about the consequences? The police all over the United States will go crazy, hunting you down. Even if you escape to the ends of the earth, it will be useless."

Franklin was not afraid, and replied seriously, "What are you afraid of? It's a big deal to spend the rest of your life in prison with the boss."

Hearing this, Stan couldn't help but look up to him. Despite his flaws, Franklin's loyalty was worth admiring.

"Alright, that's it! The plan is set for tomorrow, and I'll help you prepare everything you need!"

After speaking, Stan left the safe house to begin preparations.

The following day at eight o'clock in the morning, Franklin received a text message from Stan, indicating that everything was set and requested him to go to a nearby underground parking lot.

Franklin put on a mask, sunglasses, and baseball cap to conceal his identity and made his way to the assigned spot in the parking lot.

There, a van with a postal sign on it was parked.

Before he could approach, the van's door suddenly opened, and two unfamiliar men stepped out.

Franklin halted, looking wary.

One of the men clarified, "You're Franklin. Don't be alarmed; we work for Stan."

"Where's Stan?" Franklin inquired.

"Stan's going to jail, and as long as Jason stays silent, Stan and the other two bosses must report to jail every day," the man replied.

Jason was still in custody, and the investigation team wouldn't consider their job done until he divulged everything he knew.

Franklin nodded, letting his guard down, and asked, "Is everything ready?"

The man nodded and retrieved a sizable package from the van, saying, "This package contains 10 kilograms of TNT explosive with a blast radius of 50 meters. The strength is up to you to determine."

"The surface of the package is coated with a special material that even a photoion mobility spectrometer explosive detector can't detect."

After explaining, he produced an oval detonator and indicated the safety cover, saying, "The explosive is electrified, and this is the detonator for setting it off. Use your thumb to open the safety cover and press the red button firmly."

"There's also a set of postal work clothes in the van. Let us know if you need anything else."

Franklin shook his head and said, "No, thank you."

This type of task didn't require much technical expertise, but rather, the courage to face death.

"

You're welcome Good luck !" The man patted Franklin on the back before leaving.

After changing into the postal work clothes, Franklin silently pumped himself up, got behind the wheel of the van, and drove towards the police headquarters.

It's 9:00 a.m., which is the busiest time for the police station.

The postal truck slowly pulled into a parking spot. Franklin stepped out of the vehicle and carefully retrieved the package from the back.

A groggy police officer approached him and asked, "Hey, what's this?"

Franklin gave him a quick glance and replied matter-of-factly, "What else could it be but a package?"

The officer scowled and said, "I want to inspect it."

Franklin's composure faltered for a moment, but the officer's focus remained on the package, and he didn't notice.

"Sure."

As the officer crouched down to examine the package, Franklin discreetly slid his right hand into his pocket.

But just as the officer was about to open the package, he noticed the recipient's name on the label.

It was the name of the police chief.

The officer froze in his tracks.

After a moment's hesitation, he stood up, shook his head, and said, "Never mind, I won't inspect it. Just bring it in with me."

"Okay."

Franklin breathed a sigh of relief inwardly, but his expression remained unchanged.

The entrance to the New York Police Department was bustling with activity, as officers streamed in and out.

After passing the security check, Franklin guided the officer to the designated spot for signing off on the delivery.

Once the officer had signed, Franklin calmly returned to the truck and drove away.

10 meters, 30 meters, 50 meters, 100 meters...