"What? David was attacked last night? His service weapon and police car were stolen, and he was left in a vegetative state?"
At the precinct, Russell felt terrible upon hearing the bad news.
No wonder David had readily agreed over the phone but never showed up or answered his calls. He had been knocked unconscious.
"That's right. According to his call records, you were the last person he contacted before the attack. The chief asked me to find out what you talked about during your last call."
Officer Pierre looked at Russell with a hint of fear in his eyes. There were only wrong names, never wrong nicknames. "Partner Terminator" truly lived up to its reputation.
Poor David. He had lost both his gun and his car. Even if he woke from his coma and returned to work, he could only do desk duty from now on.
Worst of all, without David, who had loved earning overtime pay, who was Pierre supposed to get to cover his night shifts?
Pierre silently prayed that he still needed a partner, and hoped the chief would show mercy and not pair him with Russell.
He was not even forty yet. He was in the prime of his life and did not want to get clubbed unconscious while walking at night someday.
"Last night, I ran into a robber at a restaurant in Williamsburg. After subduing him, I called David. Later..."
After finishing, Russell asked, "Which hospital is David in? I'd like to visit him."
He knew perfectly well how terrifying his charm was. Once vegetative David saw him, he would surely get so excited that he would immediately go from comatose to full of life.
He could also ask whether there were any clues about the attacker. Someone had dared to attack a