Warehouse district.
Teams of rapid-response units clad in black gear arrived on the scene. This was another one of Captain Gordon's masterpieces.
More precisely, these were rapid-response units Gordon had prepared so he could strike immediately after openly breaking with Falcone.
The men selected for them were all drawn from retired veterans and top graduates from the police department.
"Team B in position."
"Team A in position."
On the rooftop of a building five hundred meters from the warehouse, a sniper holding a rifle spoke into his radio.
"Team C in position."
On the road outside the warehouse, Miao Mu held his radio without speaking, merely locking eyes with Bullock.
By all rights, Miao Mu did not have the rank to command this encirclement, but Bullock was sly and cunning, unwilling to shoulder even a shred of responsibility.
He directly elevated Miao Mu into the on-site commander and got Police Commissioner Loeb's approval beforehand.
"Proceed according to plan," Miao Mu said into the radio.
He turned to look at the black business van that had crashed into the wall, its windows shattered and white airbags deployed. It was the one Joker had driven away in.
The engine had not yet stalled, but all the money inside was gone. Thirty million in cash—even Joker would have needed some time to move it all.
A few green bills lay scattered across the ground, like trail markers leading all the way to the entrance of a warehouse.
Half a bill was even caught in the gap between the two doors.
Team A went straight to the warehouse roof, Team B prepared to breach from the front, and Team C provided cover. They had long been familiar with this kind of drill.
One Team B officer pressed himself against the wall and gave a