America: Starting with Daily Intelligence
Chapter 53 - 53 53 Solving Problems

53: Chapter 53 Solving Problems 53: Chapter 53 Solving Problems Allen Zhang directed the two to work in cooperation.

The two immediately agreed, as there was no problem with that.

As for what Allen Zhang himself should do?

He was just an ordinary Los Angeles five-star good citizen.

If he didn’t want to be taken to the police station for an identity check, it was better to slip away first and be a bystander; what happened next had nothing to do with him.

Dominic also knew that Allen Zhang was an undocumented non-citizen and it was not good to show off in front of the police, so he asked him for the video to keep it and immediately called the 911 emergency number on his mobile phone.

“Hello, this is the 911 Southern Branch.

What’s the situation on your end?” the dispatcher at the Southern Branch asked as she answered the call.

“A police officer is dying!

Send someone over quickly!

The current location is in the Fifth Street area, under the Kajin Bridge at the sewage outlet,” Dominic didn’t beat around the bush—he hit the ground running, shocking the dispatcher momentarily.

Dominic quickly explained the situation concisely.

The dispatcher, who was professionally trained, quickly calmed down and asked some key questions.

She notified the officers who were still patrolling nearby and dispatched an emergency ambulance.

She responded, “Sir, I have informed the nearby officers and they will be able to arrive at the destination soon.

Please do not leave the crime scene before the officers arrive.

Try to assist and ensure Officer Mig’s safety.

Thank you very much for your cooperation.

Please do not hang up the phone during this time.”

“Okay,” Dominic agreed and kept the phone line open.

Dispatchers working at the Southern Branch receive dozens, sometimes hundreds of emergency calls every day.

They need to determine whether the caller’s current environment is dangerous when dealing with nonsensical calls, which requires high quality and understanding to be capable of handling the job.

If a taxpayer calls the police, you must resolve the issue quickly, even if it’s a 72-year-old black grandfather reporting that he is being held hostage by his grandson with a knife.

When the police dispatch center sends officers who kick down the door and empty their magazines without a word, shooting both grandfather and grandson with more than sixty bullets and taking them away, they consider the problem solved.

Otherwise, the future of your police station is doomed.

The response speed of police in the United States is world-class, and their problem-solving speed is even more exceptional.

If a problem can’t be solved, they take the problematic person away, so you tell me if the problem is solved or not!

Allen Zhang rode his Trek butterfly bike back to the shore, watching from a distance as if nothing had happened.

Sieg carried Officer Mig out of the sewage outlet and laid him on the spacious roadside, taking off his own clothes for the officer to use as a pillow.

The officer’s vitality was incredibly strong; despite being injured in many vital areas, he was still breathing, and his face and the back of his head were covered in dried blood.

Sieg immediately began emergency first aid.

The officer, stimulated by the light, gradually regained consciousness and a bit of awareness.

He could not remember how many times he had woken up like this.

He wanted to make a distress call, but his phone and wallet had been stolen by those unfamiliar black men.

Lying alone in the cramped, suffocating space surrounded by foul odors, he even started to feel certain of his doom and a bit hopeless.

At the beginning of the attack, Officer Mig thought he was being robbed.

His first instinct was to hand over the money to preserve his life, and then report the incident to his colleagues working the night shift nearby to retrieve the scene and carry out a gang cleanup operation—every stray black dog would get slapped twice!

But the attackers struck with lethal force right from the start, using knives, guns, sticks, and brutal punches that left him confused and gave reason to suspect retaliatory motives.

Yet, during the dark early morning hours, that blacked-out street had neither streetlights nor cameras, and he could not remember what those black men looked like.

Their natural ‘cloak of night’ skin tone made it impossible to distinguish them with the naked eye.

The surrounding residents had reported the broken streetlights to the Municipal Bureau and community departments numerous times, but their response was to schedule a repair three years later.

However, the community archives recorded the first report as dating back to 2009, and over a decade has passed since.

Three years pass, then another three years, and still another three years, with no one actually addressing the problem.

Officer Mig was dizzy and his eyes were blurry.

He was thankful to the heavens and could hardly believe he had been rescued—by an enthusiastic Los Angeles good citizen, no less!

Looking at the Caucasian who was administering first aid to him, especially at that camouflage cap, he felt it looked somewhat familiar.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Sieg Comprey, do you remember me, Officer Mig?

We’ve met before.

The first time was when I turned myself in at the police station and was rejected by the court, then detained for a few hours and released just as you and a colleague were changing shifts.

The second time was at the convenience store robbery on Eito Street, you gave me 20 US dollars.”

Sieg immediately engaged him in conversation, encouraging him to think more and stay conscious, to not fall into a deep sleep.

And he assessed his physical condition, “You’re seriously injured right now.

You have multiple contusions on vital areas, it’s very likely that you have broken bones, and there’s a lot of bleeding.

However, fortunately, your physical condition is decent, and you haven’t been hit in any lethal spot.

I’ve already given you basic first aid and bandaged you up.

The fact that you’re conscious means you’re out of life-threatening danger.

My friend has already called the police, and officers that are on duty nearby will be here any moment.”

“I remember you, you’re that military veteran, aren’t you?

Thank you for saving me.”

Mig answered honestly, his consciousness gradually clearing, although he was perplexed as to how the other party had rescued him, he was too injured to care about that at the moment.

“Is that person next to you your friend?”

“Yes, he’s still on the phone with the dispatcher.” Sieg replied.

“Can I speak with the dispatcher?”

“Yes, but try not to talk too much.

Don’t get too excited, to avoid causing secondary injuries.”

“Ok.”

Mig agreed.

Sieg gestured for Dominic to come over and held the phone to his ear.

“I’m Mig, are you Sally or Layla?”

The dispatcher, recognizing his voice, quickly replied, “I’m Layla, hey, Mig, how are you doing?”

“Not great, I’m a bit unlucky, but I’m out of life-threatening danger now.

The Black people who attacked me, I suspect they’re related to those involved in Zero-Dollar Purchase.”

“I understand, thank heavens you’re conscious, that’s enough for now.

We’ll discuss the rest after you’ve been treated by a doctor.

I have other calls coming in, I can’t stay on the line too long.”

Dispatcher Layla didn’t talk too much with Sieg either, as he was still nursing his injuries.

Better to speak less and rest more.

It wasn’t much later that Allen Zhang heard the sirens of police cars.

Three Ford F-150s were rushing in from every street corner, zooming towards Kajin Bridge.

They found places to park nearby and the officers immediately got out and ran to the injured.

Soon an ambulance also arrived at the scene.

A few officers checked the secondary crime scene, asked about Mig’s condition, and cordoned off the area with police tape.

Two of the officers conducted a body search and standard questioning of Sieg and Dominic, requesting their IDs.

Their attitudes were quite mild.

Even after knowing the two were homeless drifters, and that Sieg was a person without legal identity due to military discharge, they didn’t make things too difficult.

Dominic answered smoothly and produced a video as corroboration, which greatly impressed the officers.

They notified the command center that they had obtained solid evidence and leads about the Black people assaulting an officer from good Samaritans, ready to dispatch an arrest operation immediately!

They could even invite media reporters to extensively promote the notion of racial correctness, praise the good Samaritans, and the incident of Officer Mig being injured in the line of duty, striking hard at the Black Lives Matter rhetoric.

After the paramedics put Mig on a stretcher and took him to the hospital, the officers invited them to the police station to make a statement.

One person per car, sitting in the passenger seat, with folding bikes and skateboards stowed in the trunk, this treatment wasn’t something ordinary people received.

Officers are human too; if you help an officer and win their favor, of course, they would reciprocate by awarding you with a Good Samaritan medal!

Adding hefty positive points to your credit record!

Special treatment.

Perhaps even the treatment of the homeless nearby might change a bit.

Extra meals are unlikely; white and colored homeless would at most receive fewer kicks, while the old Blacks would each receive a few more.

The local gang members would all have to shrink at their doorsteps and behave, lest they invite trouble, and the Zero-Dollar Purchase activities would also indirectly diminish.