Chapter 1003: Calling the Police

The moment a person faces death, they are always afraid, even heroes, or those who claim to be fearless.

The young man's trembling body had already betrayed his inner heart. He was even, at this moment, shaking his leg.

He was trying to use the shaking of his leg to resolve his nervousness. His gaze subconsciously glanced at the pool of blood on the ground. He seemed to have realized something.

Lance put the table leg on a nearby table. He walked back to his chair and sat down, lighting a cigarette. "Tell me, how should I deal with you all?"

He looked at these people. "Undoubtedly, the Perez family thinks that it's impossible for me to kill all of you here, so they can unscrupulously send you over to die."

"I don't like this feeling, as if he has already won."

Lance took a puff of his cigarette. Just as he had said, the reason these people could come over and destroy his bar without any scruples was because they were certain that he couldn't kill everyone.

If he killed one or two, there might be a way to cover it up, but to kill so many people at once, there was definitely no way to hide it.

Maybe now the police, or the FBI, were nearby. As long as Lance and his men moved the bodies out, these people would rush over and catch them red-handed.

The struggle between gangs is not just a simple competition of muscles, of violent means. They will also, at some times, use their brains.

It's just this kind of a flash-of-inspiration little trick, but sometimes it does have some effect.

If people knew that the Perez family's men had smashed the Lance Family's bar, but had not received any severe punishment, then their goal would have been achieved.

They had fiercely slapped Lance's face, and had also vented Fran's anger, which could be considered as avenging Paige for being beaten unconscious.

The room was very quiet. Lance glanced at Mador. "Have someone go outside and see if anyone is watching us."

Mador nodded. He directly had his subordinates go to the roof. A sniper. His observation skills were very meticulous, and he could, from the surrounding environment, quickly observe something.

During this period, Lance just smoked his cigarette and didn't speak. He was also waiting, waiting for a result.

And during this period, for these young people whom the Perez family had sent to smash the bar, they had felt an extremely heavy pressure, so much so that everyone couldn't breathe.

Some people's breathing had become very rapid, and his face was also slightly flushed.

There were also some who now not only wanted to pee, but also wanted to shit. Of course, there were also some who wanted to vomit. These were all things that would only happen under high tension.

Their apprehensive eyes were gradually filled with more fear. They were afraid, afraid of death, just like their companion who had already been dragged in.

They were not able to face death calmly.

After about ten or so minutes, Lance's cigarette was already finished. He just sat there, staring at the people in front of him. At this moment, the sound of footsteps came from the spiral staircase upstairs.

From the third floor of the bar, you could directly go to the top floor through a spiral staircase. Mador's subordinate, after he had observed for a while on the top floor, had already come down. His steps were very fast, and in a short time, he had returned to the main hall of the bar.

For those young people, this person, whom they had never seen before, and who looked to be in his thirties, his footsteps were like a countdown to death.

The leader, in particular, had a lot of sweat on his face. It was a pity that he was being controlled, and had no way to raise his hand to wipe the sweat from his face.

The beads of sweat that were rolling down his skin would, from time to time, fall on his eyelashes, and then would slide into his eyes, stinging him so much that he had to close his eyes.

"There are indeed people around who are observing this side. There are also two cars in an alley on the street. There are people in the cars. I don't know if they are also a part of the people who are staring at us."

The sniper had truthfully reported what he had seen on top. At a time like this, it was better to be overly cautious than to be too careless.

Lance nodded. "Thank you for your hard work."

He turned his head to look at these young people, especially the one who was the leader. "I am very curious about a question, and I hope you can give me some answers."

The young man who was being stared at by him had swallowed a mouthful of saliva. He shook his head. The sweat on his face had made him feel obviously uncomfortable.

Nervous, his stomach was upset, he wanted to vomit, he was scared. All kinds of emotions had already eroded his will to resist. He was not as strong as he had imagined.

He just glanced at Lance, then looked away and nodded. He had agreed to Lance's question.

"Your family name is not Perez, so did Fran, or other members of the Perez family, save your life?"

"So much so that you are willing to use your current life, to repay the kindness of them saving your life?"

He looked at the others as he spoke. "This question is also for you. Maybe you know, or maybe you don't."

"But when you took this mission, I believe that there is a high probability that they had not expected you to be able to leave here alive."

Some of the other young men were stunned for a moment, and then they had glared fiercely at this little leader, who should be a captain or something.

The captain, who was being stared at by the people, had a struggling expression. He was constantly swallowing his saliva. "I... I don't know."

Lance shook his head. "Let's change the question. Do you want to live, or do you want to follow your friend?"

A life-and-death question. But fortunately, in the choice of this life-and-death question, there was one that was not to send you to your death.

The young men had looked at each other, and soon they had made a decision.

If they could not die, who would hope that they would?

...

At this time, on the street, another branch member of the Perez family was, with his hands in his pockets, standing in a phone booth.

It was as cold in the phone booth as it was outside. He was already a little unable to stand the cold. Why were these damn people still not coming out?

In fact, he was not the only one around. There were also some others. He was responsible for calling the police.

As long as he saw Lance's convoy come out of the embassy, he would immediately call the police, and then there would be vehicles ready at both ends of the road outside the embassy.

Once Lance's car got close, they would rush out of the alley, and would ram Lance's convoy, forcing them to stop.

At that time, when the police came, and had found a large number of bodies, even if Lance himself could get away with it, his subordinates would definitely not be able to. And this bar in his embassy would definitely not be able to continue to operate.

With so many people dead and injured, it was impossible for the gentlemen in Congress not to give Lance some punishment.

This way, not only had they taken their revenge, but they had also fiercely slapped Lance's face.

If the people they had sent in had come out smoothly, the effect would be the same. This would prove that the Lance Family was actually helpless against their retaliatory actions.

The guy in the phone booth couldn't help but laugh out loud. No one can, after offending the Perez family, still be safe and sound!

It was just that he didn't know, why, until now, no one had come out.

Whether it was their people, or Lance or Lance's people. He was more curious, what on earth had happened inside.

Not long after, a car had entered the Rapa embassy. The person who was staking out in the phone booth had immediately given Fran a call.

"They haven't come out yet. Just now, a car entered the embassy. I don't know who is inside..."

"Okay, I know, okay..."

The plan had not changed. He would continue to keep an eye on this place. Either he would see Lance's convoy come out, or he would see their men come out.

It was just that this damn phone booth was really too cold, and his feet were also a little frozen. He had no choice but to stomp his feet back and forth, to use the vibration and other methods, to promote the blood circulation in his feet, to drive away the coldness that had made him completely unable to feel his own feet.

This damn weather!

...

The police chief got out of his car, his expression looking awful.

It wasn't that he was scared or anything. As the police chief of New Golden City, he was actually not at all afraid of these gang members, because he knew one thing very well.

As long as he still represented the federal government's control over the order of New Golden City, and represented the face of the federal government, these gang members would not dare to kill him.

Once any of them had killed him, it would mean that these gang members were challenging the federal government, challenging the big shots in this city.

The senators, the congressmen, the big capitalists.

Let alone him coming here, even if he had gone to the lairs of the five major families, he wouldn't be afraid.

It was just that to be called here at night, and he had a premonition that he would be used, he was a little unhappy.

After he had gotten out of the car, he had stomped his feet again, and had turned his head to look at the embassy's building. His expression was slightly grave.

To attack an embassy... was indeed a very tricky matter. He had, in his heart, cursed those fools of the Perez family, for insisting on finding something for him to do.

He lit a cigarette, and after taking two puffs at the door, he had, with his head lowered, walked into the bar.

As soon as he had entered the bar, he had seen Lance, who was sitting at a table and chatting with someone. Lance had also seen him, and then had, with a smile, stood up, but had not moved his steps.

The police chief pursed his lips and walked over. "You gave me a call," he said as he glanced at the group of people who were kneeling in the corner, and also at the few who had been beaten until their heads were bloody.

It was not until he had walked close that Lance had walked over and had shaken his hand. "Yes, I made the call."

"These gangs are too arrogant. They actually openly attacked the embassy. Does this count as a diplomatic incident?"

Ambassador Cassia was also at the scene. He, as if he had received some "signal," had said loudly, "I want to complain to the Secretary of State!"

The police chief's head was hurting at this time. He really didn't want to manage these things. "If Ambassador Cassia really complains and protests to the Secretary of State, in the end, it will be him who will be in trouble."

The only law enforcement agency in the federal government that, legally, could crack down on criminal organizations, that is, gangs, was the Federal Police.

Like the FBI, they were not yet qualified to be in charge of these cases. Although the director of the FBI had been in the process of lobbying for greater power, and the congressional side had also completed the submission and the voting of the proposal, it had not yet been implemented.

It was said that the congressional side, in consideration of the war and some other factors, the specific implementation of these would have to wait until after the war had ended.

For such a serious criminal incident to have occurred in New Golden City, the Secretary of State would definitely think that this was the responsibility of the police department, not any other department.

As the police chief, he was definitely the first responsible person.

He turned his head to look at Lance, somewhat impatient and helpless. "Alright, don't play these dirty tricks with me. What on earth do you want?"

Lance spread his hands. "Your attitude is not friendly, Mr. Chief."

"Now, in front of you is a victim. You shouldn't be talking to me with such an attitude. I will have my lawyer write a letter to complain about you!"

He couldn't help but laugh as he spoke. "As for my demand, it's very simple. They have already confessed that this was instigated by the Perez family. Now I am handing these criminals over to you. I hope you can give me a satisfactory answer."

The police chief looked at Lance, a little surprised. "When did your gang firefights start to need our police to intervene?"

He had almost wanted to say "this is not in line with the rules"!

A firefight between gangs would not be, by borrowing the hands of the law enforcement departments. Compared to letting others complete their revenge plan, almost all gangs were more willing to take revenge personally.

He now, a little, couldn't understand Lance. Even the street families knew to do it themselves. Lance had actually called the police, and had even wanted him to do it.

This was also... "gangster"!

Lance, on the other hand, did not have much of a change in his expression. "This is slander, Mr. Chief. If you don't have solid evidence to prove that I am a gang member, be careful that I will have my lawyer add such a complaint to the letter!"

"Shit!" The chief had again, glanced at the young men who were kneeling together. He actually also had a bit of a headache.

If Lance had handed these people over to him, he would definitely need to give an explanation. Otherwise, the police's public trust would disappear. But this explanation was not so easy to give.

The Perez family, to be able to be called "one of the five major families of the Federation," meant that they were definitely not just a dark and evil force.

They had their own companies, their own social relations, and also their interest representatives in Congress.

To offend them was simple, but after offending them?

Would they give him a hard time?

The police chief was also very troubled. Lance had given him a trouble. He just didn't understand why Lance, who was said to be very irascible, hadn't just killed all these people. This way, it would, on the contrary, have been easier for him to handle.

He looked at Lance, and from Lance's eyes, he had confirmed that he would not change his mind. The police chief could only, in a muffled voice, ask, "Where is the phone?"

Lance pointed at the bar. "Right there."

The police chief walked over, and called for support. He had also, with emphasis, stated, not to pull the siren.

After he had put down the phone, his attention was all focused on Lance. This was not his first time in close contact with Lance, but this was the first time, without any external force (Tom), to be in close contact with Lance, and to observe and to talk.

This was indeed a difficult person to deal with. He could actually also understand Lance's purpose in doing this.

To kill these people was not very realistic. What if the Perez family's people had some backup plan? Maybe Lance would fall into a very passive situation.

If he had just let these people go, even if he had beaten them up, and had broken their legs, Lance would also have lost his face.

They have already smashed his bar, but he didn't dare to kill all these people.

But to hand them over to him was different. Now these people had not gotten their "freedom." The matter was still developing. Lance had turned his own trouble, into the police department's trouble.

If Ambassador Cassia really protested to the Secretary of State, then no one knew what this would turn into.

Lance was dragging more people into the water.

Now the only thing he could do was to first arrest these people and take them to the police station, and then to see how he could make a big deal small, and a small deal into nothing.

Not long after, seven or eight police cars had arrived at the embassy. The Perez family's men, who had been keeping an eye on the outside, were all dumbfounded, especially the guy who had been standing in the phone booth, stomping his feet.

He was, as if in disbelief, staring with wide eyes at the police officers who were entering the embassy. After he had been in a daze for a while, he had immediately dialed Fran's number.

"Boss, Lance has called the police."

Fran, on the other end of the line, was also stunned for a moment. "He called the police?"

The guy who was on the phone, while stomping his feet, had said, "Yes, I saw many police cars go in."

Fran was also silent. After a few more seconds, he couldn't help but curse, "This son of a bitch, he actually called the police?"

"Fuck, are the gangs in the south all so unruly?"

In the long history of these old, established gangs, they had almost never encountered a situation where they needed to call the police.

Even when facing trouble from more powerful forces—or when sympathetic officers offered help—they would still choose to keep their distance and avoid any direct involvement.

To be unwilling to let the police interfere in the firefights and conflicts between the gangs was an unwritten rule.

Lance had broken this rule. He was a bit "unscrupulous."

But it was just this unscrupulousness that had made Fran feel a little troubled.

"I know. You all come back first."

He had, in a bad mood, hung up the phone. In his warm room, the few "think tanks" in the family had all looked at him. Among them, a cousin of his had asked, "Lance called the police?"

They had heard the few words he had said on the phone just now.

Fran nodded. "He called the police. The people we sent are now probably in the hands of the police."

These family members, who looked more like cultured people, had all frowned. Fran looked at their appearance, and in his heart, he had vaguely felt that this matter might evolve into a trouble.

"They were just caught. How can they bring us trouble?"

His cousin did not nod or shake his head, and did not give him a clear answer. "This depends on the subsequent handling. Are the people we sent reliable?"

Fran, at this time, was also a little unsure. "They should be."

He had quickly reacted. "Are you worried, that they will implicate us?"

His cousin nodded. "Under normal circumstances, it's not likely. We can find someone to smooth things over. The police station's side should be able to close the case very quickly."

"But for Lance to take the initiative to call the police, I feel that there might be a follow-up to this. It will be a bit troublesome..."