Reason for Suspension

Suspended?

Wasn't it because I acted alone, there was no evidence, and he had a minor feud with the Internal Affairs Division before, which led to Internal Affairs initiating proceedings?

Is there any other reason?

Lake frowned slightly and looked at his girlfriend, thinking of another problem. He touched his chin, "Isn't it because of the procedure? If there was something else, why didn't you say so earlier?"

"Because I believe you're a good detective."

"...Thank you!"

After Maureen sighed, she said, "Do you remember half a year ago, you arrested three drunk and disorderly people in a bar, and you also severely injured one of them?"

Lake grunted, "They assaulted an officer."

This was when Lake was still single. Lake was in a bar looking for some romantic encounter. He finally set his sights on a beautiful woman, but there were three drunk guys next to them causing trouble. Lake spoke up to remind them a few words to prevent disturbing his pursuit of the woman.

To his surprise, they attacked first.

Can you believe that?

Lake couldn't stand it.

So, it was self-defense. He didn't directly draw his gun, which was already a concession because their skin color was white, not black.

If it were any other detective, you'd dare to make a move, and they'd directly draw their guns and put several holes in you.

Those three guys who were beaten black and blue didn't say they were going to sue or anything. Lake was too lazy to dwell on the matter afterward and had forgotten about it.

Could it be that these three guys had some background?

Maureen said, "Among those three people, one of them is the son of the Mayor of New York City."

Lake raised his eyebrows, "Is that so?"

Maureen said, "At that time, the police department arranged for me to conduct a psychological test on you, trying to make your psychological evaluation fail and get you out of the police force."

Lake chuckled.

So that's how it was.

Maureen looked at the smile on Lake's face, "What are you laughing at?"

Lake shrugged, "I think I should thank the Mayor."

"Why?"

"If it weren't for him, I wouldn't have met you."

"..."

Lake didn't take this matter to heart at all. He'd deal with it as it came. At worst, he'd just quit this part-time job. It wasn't a big deal.

The next day.

Lake got out of his girlfriend Maureen's car and stretched. He watched his girlfriend park the car and then walked towards the coffee shop opposite the police station.

A cup of coffee in the morning could keep him energized all morning.

With five scoops of sugar.

It was nine o'clock in the morning. There were many law enforcement officers around the police station. Lake scanned his surroundings and his gaze fell on the tall buildings near the police station, but he couldn't determine if Carlos was on any of them.

After a while.

Lake, holding his coffee, walked towards the police station, chatting and laughing with Kevin Ryan from the second team, who had slimmed down a bit.

"Wait."

"What's wrong?"

"I need to tie my shoelace."

Lake stopped by an anonymous complaint box at the entrance of the police station and said to Kevin next to him. He then squatted down and retied his loose shoelace.

An envelope whooshed into the complaint box.

Five seconds later.

Lake stood up and said to Kevin, "Let's go."

Third floor of the police station.

Third team's office area.

Lake sat at his desk, drinking coffee, and looked at a case file with great interest.

This was the case file from the bar incident half a year ago, which he had asked the information department to retrieve.

Detective Joe Martinez also arrived.

"Good morning."

"Good morning."

Joe pulled over a chair and sat next to Lake. He glanced at the case file in Lake's hand, "Have you found any leads?"

Lake didn't say anything. He just handed the case file to Joe and glanced at the time on his watch.

The complaint box downstairs had opened promptly at nine-thirty this morning, and it was nearly ten now. There should have been some news by this time.

Just then.

The elevator doors opened.

Inspector Montgomery emerged and, as he reached his office door, called out to Lake, who was also looking his way, "Lake, come here."

Lake got up.

Inside the Inspector's office.

Montgomery placed a piece of paper, sealed in an evidence bag, onto his desk and said to Lake with a blank expression, "Did you do this?"

Lake blinked and took the letter.

The next second.

Lake's eyes lit up, his performance quite convincing: "Sir, I request a search of the Textile Factory."

"Nonsense."

"..."

Montgomery's brow twitched. "Yesterday I said if I had evidence, I'd give you the Special Operations Team, and today, just this morning, a killer conveniently outed themselves and reported it?"

Lake nodded. "While it's a bit coincidental, it's within the realm of possibility. My informant told me that this assassin organization, The Assistance, does indeed have a defector. Perhaps that defector wants to use our police force to eliminate their former employers."

Montgomery sighed, his tone laced with a hint of helplessness. "Are you absolutely sure this assassin organization is inside the Textile Factory?"

Lake nodded. "One hundred percent."

Putting aside movie plots, Lake himself had some experience in the assassin world. While he didn't know the headquarters of every assassin organization, he was aware of several prominent ones.

Lake had considered using his official capacity to eliminate these assassin organizations before, but after some thought, he gave up.

The reason was simple.

The rewards and risks simply didn't align. Besides, he wasn't a detective to protect New York; he was here to profit from the underworld.

But now, The Assistance had angered him.

Hearing Lake's assurance, Montgomery gave him a deep look, then picked up the phone on his desk and dialed the Forensics and Evidence Division.

After hanging up.

Montgomery said to Lake, "You'd better pray this tip doesn't have any fingerprints that shouldn't be there."

Lake remained silent, instead asking, "Sir, what about the search warrant?"

Montgomery glanced at Lake and said irritably, "This is your case, go get it from the court yourself. I'm warning you, even with this evidence, without a warrant, you stay far away from the Textile Factory."

Lake snapped to attention. "Yes, Sir!"

It's just a search warrant.

What's the big deal?

He walked out.

Lake let out a whistle. Joe from the Third Squad's work area looked up. Lake gestured towards the elevators, and Joe, after a moment of surprise, quickly grabbed his jacket and caught up with Lake, who had already entered the elevator.

Joe asked Lake, "Where are we going?"

"The courthouse."

Lake raised an eyebrow. "To get a search warrant."

Joe: "..."