Chapter 32

Chapter 32

While waiting for Jerry, Travis and Elaine stayed quiet.

The sound of tires screeching against the pavement shattered the silence.

"Where are they? Where are they?"

Jerry's loud, raspy voice reached them before he even opened the car door.

Travis and Elaine exchanged exasperated looks. "If you get any louder, we'll lose everything."

Jerry quickly covered his mouth, looking somewhat sheepish.

"Where are they?" he asked again.

Travis and Elaine pointed to a dark basement entrance.

Jerry's eyes lit up with excitement. He waved his hand, and the dozen officers he brought with him charged inside.

Jerry pulled Travis and Elaine into a bear hug. "How can I ever thank you guys? You two are my lucky stars. We've barely been here, and you've already found a drug lab."

A gunshot echoed from the basement, freezing the trio in their tracks. They quickly snapped out of it and rushed toward the sound.

In the basement, all the officers were taking cover behind pillars. 

As soon as Travis, Elaine, and Jerry peeked out, a bullet hit the pillar in front of them, sending concrete dust into their mouths.

Jerry's face darkened. "They're insane!"

"Anyone involved in drug manufacturing is a bit crazy," Travis muttered, pulling out his gun.

More gunshots rang out in the darkness. One officer cried out in pain, clutching his shoulder, his face pale and teeth clenched.

Elaine gritted her teeth and, taking advantage of a lull while the shooter reloaded, dashed to the injured officer. 

With no medical kit in sight, she tore a strip from her dress and examined the wound.

"Hang in there, this will be quick," she whispered.

"Okay, but you—" The officer's eyes widened in horror as Elaine stuck her fingers into the wound.

"Where is it?" she murmured, her eyes lighting up. "Got it!" She pulled out a bullet and tossed it aside.

"You're going to be okay," Elaine sighed in relief.

The officer stared at her in disbelief. "Elaine, next time, can we use some anesthetic?" he asked, his voice pitiful.

"Sorry about that!" Elaine replied.

The officer closed his eyes, resigned. As long as he was alive, the pain didn't matter.

The gunfire gradually subsided, replaced by the groans of the wounded. 

Elaine cautiously peeked out. 

In the dark corners, some were still crying out in pain, while others, despite their injuries, were subduing the drug dealers.

Travis and Jerry approached a man who seemed to be the leader.

"Mole?" Jerry asked.

The man looked confused. "What mole?"

Jerry's voice turned icy. "You've got some nerve, huh? Manufacturing and trafficking drugs—either charge alone is enough to get you the death penalty."

"If you don't want to talk, that's fine. I have ways to make you."

Jerry signaled, and several officers began escorting the suspects out. 

Following their tracks, they finally found the office.

Seeing the setup, the trio couldn't help but be impressed by the drug dealers' ingenuity. The place was small but fully equipped.

"How did they get all this stuff in here?" Travis marveled, pointing at a diesel generator.

"Can you focus on the important things?" Jerry sighed.

Elaine examined the equipment. It was rudimentary, but it had generated immense wealth and turned countless people into zombies.

Elaine scrutinized the items, looking like she was searching for something. 

She stopped in front of a beaker filled with an unknown liquid, her lips curling into a smile. "This is it!" she said, carefully placing it in her bag.

Nearby, a piece of paper detailed the precise steps and measurements for making the drugs.

"Quite professional indeed."

Travis remarked, looking at the items around them.

Elaine remained silent, clutching her bag tightly.

As everyone left, Travis slowed down to walk beside Elaine. "You seem to value what's in your bag," he whispered.

Elaine's expression changed. "How do you know?"

Travis smiled. "Don't forget my job."

"You've seen that stuff before, haven't you?" he pressed, his eyes boring into hers.

Elaine didn't respond, avoiding his gaze. She bit her lip, as if making a decision. 

"I'll come to you tonight," she said, then hurried away.

Travis watched her go, feeling a strange sense of dread about what she might reveal.

In the interrogation room, Jerry sat across from the leader.

"Name?"

"Lyle Warner," the man replied, looking defeated.

"You know the penalties for drug manufacturing and trafficking, right?"

Lyle nodded. "Yes, the death penalty for large-scale trafficking."

Jerry snorted. "And you still did it."

"If I don't, how am I supposed to make a living?" Lyle retorted.

"Did you supply the drugs to Ethan's Café?" Jerry asked, his voice low.

Lyle nodded. "Yes, but we stopped working with them later."

Jerry was puzzled. "Stopped? Why?"

"Exactly what it sounds like," Lyle said, spreading his hands. "That guy's demands kept growing. He wanted to cut us out completely."

"So we stopped supplying Ethan. But somehow, he found another source with even better quality drugs."

Jerry didn't interrupt.

"Did they contact you?" Jerry asked urgently.

Lyle nodded. "They did. They offered to supply the drugs, and I would sell them. We split the profits 70-30, with me getting 70."

"An offer like that, I couldn't refuse."

"Then I realized I was trapped. No matter how big I got, I was still working for them."

Jerry cut him off. "Where and when do they deliver?"

"About once a week. They contact me to arrange the pickup."