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

The dark clouds in the sky cracked open, revealing a small half of the first quarter moon. The cold moonlight cast a blanket of white snow. In the snow that seemed to be tinged with a faint silver light, stood a strangely painted figure. Indian man with facial tattoos.

He held a hand ax in his right hand and a human head still dripping with blood in his left hand. He looked up to the sky and roared, emitting a unique and peculiar war cry unique to the Indians.

"Wu Lu Lu Lu."

As the sound spread further and further away, the same war cry was heard one after another around the drilling camp.

"Dong dong dong dong dong dong. Wu Lu Lu Lu"

Jack felt as if he was having an auditory hallucination. From the vast mountains in the distance, there seemed to be the sound of low war drums, echoing the roars of Martin Hansen and the reservation tribal police.

He shrank his neck subconsciously. This scene made people feel a sense of sadness from the bottom of their hearts, as if they were seeing a dead civilization emitting its last cry from the nailed coffin board.

But he felt relieved immediately. Even if there were really undead spirits and karmic retribution, they would not cause trouble for him, the person who came to help.

As the saying goes, every wrongdoer has his own debtor, and it doesn't matter whether he is an "egg man" with white skin and a yellow heart or a ghost.

Not long after, the old police chief and his police officers who were scattered around gathered in the middle on snowmobiles. Their work for the day had just begun.

First drag all the scattered corpses into the room, and then use the weapons of the security guards to open fire at will, creating the illusion of cannibalism.

Then they poured gasoline inside and out. These beasts had already prepared enough fuel for themselves. The tribal policemen only had to bring the gasoline not far behind the house and pour it in bucket by bucket.

At dawn, a column of smoke rose into the sky, and everyone stood far away, watching the raging fire devour everything.

Jane, who had just arrived, looked around and found that Jack, Corey Lambert, and Martin Hansen had disappeared at some point.

"He asked you to go back to the hotel as soon as possible and wait for the call. You still have a lot to do." Aaliyah, with red eyes, leaned into Braxton's arms and said to Jane.

——

"ah!"

Peter woke up to the howling cold wind and breathed in the thin air. The cold and biting air was sucked into his lungs and turned into clouds of white mist when he exhaled.

"Do you know where you are?" Jack squatted beside him and asked with a smile.

"You, don't come here, you devil!" Peter stood up in fear and tried to stay away from him.

"Tsk." Jack smacked his lips helplessly. He was really just asking a question. The leader was Corey Lambert, a local hunter who looked like "Eagle Eye". He had never been to such a high school in his life. place.

"This is Gannett Peak, the highest mountain in Wyoming." Corey put down the telescope in his hand and handed it to Martin Hansen who was sitting next to him.

"In the hottest days of August, we have a foot of snow here, and today it's a nice day, it's cold, and the snow is deep."

Peter's panicked eyes glanced back and forth at the three people in front of him, and his face gradually showed despair. There was no need to talk nonsense, no matter how stupid he was, he understood the current situation.

"Run." Martin Hansen only said one word. The paint on his face was still there and his body was stained with blood. He looked extremely terrifying.

Peter shivered and looked at his feet subconsciously, only to find that the shoes on his feet were gone, and the skin on them had turned purple, and he had already lost consciousness from the cold wind.

"Fake, what have you done to me?"

"Didn't he make it clear enough? You only have one chance, run or die." Jack kindly explained.

"Where can I go?" Peter looked around blankly, surrounded by ice and snow.

"There, there is a highway about 6 miles away." Corey pointed casually in the distance.

Peter struggled to stand up, "I, I don't understand. What do you want from me?"

"boom!"

"I told you to run!" Corey suddenly raised the shotgun in his hand and fired a shot in his ear. The huge roar frightened Peter so much that he turned around and ran away, crying and howling as he ran.

"Ding"

Jack found an exposed stone and sat on it, took out a cigar and lit it for himself.

"The altitude here is over thirteen thousand feet." Martin Hansen kindly reminded him.

Jack glanced at the pile of cigarette butts at his feet and rolled his eyes, "How far do you think he can run?"

Corey raised his gun and took aim, "2,000 feet."

Jack and Martin both turned to look at him in surprise, not understanding why he could be so sure.

"My best achievement was killing a wolf at 2,000 feet."

The two couldn't help but smile.

Unfortunately, before Peter could run 500 feet, he fell headlong into the snow. He turned over with difficulty, gasping for air, but blood kept gushing out from his mouth and nose.

Jack asked Corey, "Can you still find this place tomorrow? He still has some use."

"Of course it's no problem. I'm a hunter. It's reasonable to appear wherever I am, right?" Corey said and shrugged.

——

How to cover up a vicious event, the usual way is to hold a funeral. For example, what if an exaggerated wildfire is accidentally set off for land acquisition and too many poor people are burned to death.

Of course, the media should focus on reporting how the heroic rescuers worked hard to rescue a kitten from the rubble.

The photos published must be of a fierce girl with a kitten, so that they are both topical and visually impactful.

Unfortunately, in this wild reservation, there are no cute little kittens, and there is no way for beautiful girls to show their career in the temperature of more than ten degrees below zero, so Jack can only find another way.

Fortunately, sometimes, the wilderness also has the benefits of the wilderness. Although the drilling camp belongs to federal leased land set aside from the reservation, if something goes wrong.

For example, like now, if the security in the camp accidentally died due to internal strife due to alcoholism and DU, the nearest tribal policemen still have an obligation to help.

Especially when there is an FBI nearby who is dealing with the murder of indigenous people, it is natural that she should lead the team and bring the tribal police to investigate the scene to see if it is necessary for the FBI to dispatch a large team of people.

So Jane hurried back to the hotel. She only had time to freshen up briefly before she received a call from her boss, telling her not to drive back again.

By the time she returned to the drilling camp, it was already 9 o'clock in the morning. The fire truck that arrived in a "hurry" like her had just extinguished the remaining fire at the site. Immediately afterwards, an Aboriginal firefighter was accidentally burned and frozen at the site. Something was wrong in the soil.

So in full view of the public, the bones of the victimized women were unearthed one after another.