The world of American TV series: Starting with the L.A. Patrol

At the entrance of the "Inn" bar, Jack glanced at the small parking lot. Most of them were old pickup trucks.

Although Montana is known as the "Wealth State" and "Luxury Car State", due to its geographical climate and insufficient population, its economic development level is relatively average, and its per capita GDP ranks at the bottom in the United States.

Therefore, it is rare to see expensive luxury cars in this state, but across the United States, luxury cars and antique cars with Montana signs are everywhere.

The name "Wealth State" comes from the state's rich mineral resources, but the most indispensable thing in North America is mineral resources. The inconvenience of transportation and the lack of labor force lead to the state's agriculture still occupying a dominant position.

As for the "Luxury Car State", it's very interesting because Montana is a tax-free state, and the state's law stipulates that annual inspections and emissions checks are not required when buying a car in this state.

Also in California, if you buy a new or used car worth 30,000 yuan, you have to pay about 2,000 to 3,000 yuan in consumption tax. Those luxury cars that cost millions, the tax of more than 100,000 yuan is very painful for those rich people. .

So someone will register a company in Montana, purchase a luxury car in the name of the company, and put the license plate of the state on it. Usually, as long as it is not excessive, the IRS will not keep a close eye on it.

This resulted in Montana once becoming the state with the largest number of luxury cars in the United States.

Of course, none of this has anything to do with these locals who are living in distress. It can be seen from this old-decorated bar that this so-called "militia" is almost similar to a mutual aid organization that holds together for warmth.

This can be seen from their actions in helping Diana Goring drive away her husband and rescue him from the devil.

They may not have high education, have extreme ideas, discriminate against minorities, live poor and conservative lives, and blame everything on that damn federal government, but Jack still wants to try to communicate with them.

After all, no one can understand the local situation better than these people, especially when Francis Goering was once one of them.

Jack walked into this bar. It was not big inside, and there were about ten people in the bar.

“Hello, bring me a local beer.”

Jack walked to the bar and gave the bartender a business smile. The slight dimples on his baby face made the aunt lose consciousness for a while, and her hand involuntarily reached for the empty wine glass beside her.

"I'll buy this drink as a thank you for saving that unfortunate woman. I heard she almost died, but please leave immediately after drinking. Federal accomplices are not welcome here."

A voice came from the small table nearby. Jack looked around and saw an old white man with thin hair, about fifty or sixty years old, but who looked very capable, staring at him.

"Thank you. It seems I should drink slower. After all, I still have a few questions to ask. Are you Harris Townsend?"

Seeing no one responded, Jack still smiled, took the beer handed by the bartender, and took a sip. It tasted quite good. It should be a private brew using barley as the main raw material.

"Can I have a huckleberry pie? This is my first time in Montana. I heard that this is a delicacy that you must not miss here. If possible, it would be even better to have a steak. I am so hungry that I can eat it. Next a whole bison.”

Jack said handing over some bills.

"Hey, kid, don't push yourself too hard. Harris said you're not welcome here." Opposite the old white man who spoke before, a strong man stood up and stared at Jack with an unkind look on his face.

"Come on, Bobby, we're not rude savages."

The old white man also stood up, held the strong man's shoulders, and then looked at Jack's waist.

"Glock 22, a very practical guy, but made in Europe."

As he spoke, he patted the revolver on his waist and said, "Smith and Wesson, a pure American product. I'm wondering which one is more reliable."

Jack smiled and opened his coat, revealing his armpit holster.

"Actually, I prefer this one, FK7.5, made in Eastern Europe. Not long ago, I used it to kill a guy who was wearing a bulletproof vest and a bulletproof helmet at 45 yards away."

The atmosphere in the bar instantly solidified. Everyone stopped talking and looked nervously at the two people in the confrontation.

"Actually, I came here to ask for help. An hour ago, we dug up the bodies of three innocent people in Francis Goering's rose garden. They were covered with scars. Each of them suffered for a long time before they died. Months of brutal torture.”

"You must have all seen the news when they disappeared, and now Francis' accomplices are still at large. If you choose to shut up out of fear, I can understand, and I can even leave without finishing this delicious beer."

"That's enough, Francis and his followers are the real cowards!" the old white man shouted angrily.

"I'm Harris, Lily. Give this bastard something to eat. I want to hear what he wants to say."

——

Half an hour later,

When Jiejie arrived in a hurry and pushed open the bar door, the scene in front of her made her dumbfounded.

The cups and plates in front of Jack were in a mess, and his mouth was full of oil. The fat bartender was smiling and refilling the cup in front of him with beer.

"Aha, here she is, this is Agent Jennifer Jeange, she is the real hero who saved Angela Miller."

Jack's cheeks turned red, and he picked up the wine glass and greeted Jie Jie, who still had gauze on his face.

"Here's to Ms. Rangre!"

"Here's to Ms. Rangre!"

Everyone in the bar picked up the wine glasses in front of them.

Jiejie looked confused and had no idea what had happened here before, and a full glass of beer was stuffed in her hand.

——

"I really don't know who Francis's accomplice is, I've only seen him once, and that was through a telescope."

Harris Townsend, his face flushed from drinking, leaned shoulder to shoulder with Jack and said vowedly.

"I took a few guys hunting, and happened to bump into those two Beach Boys. At that time, Francis, that trash, had been driven out of the Militia by us, but none of us expected that he would be the murderer. If I had known, I would have been..."

Harris drank the rest of the beer in one go, slammed the thick beer glass on the table, and continued.

"The guy was in his early twenties, very thin and pale. He followed Francis like a follower and kept talking down to him."

"I'm sorry, that's all I know, but my guys and I will all go out to assist the Sheriff in their search. Once I find that bastard, I want"

"Anyway, thank you, and Lily, your huckleberry pie is really good." Jack shook Harris's hand, gave him a business card, and made a kiss with the bartender named Lily. present.