HLM – Chapter 1009 Don’t Talk, Just Do It

Everyone was mobilized. Several police cars spread out. Wang Bo took Uncle Bing and Conley to the town center, while Atulu took Gerald to patrol along Highway 8.

Soon, a convoy composed of a Mercedes RV and a Land Rover SUV entered the town.

It was mealtime, and Sunset Town was famous for its food. Wang Bo guessed they would likely stay in town for lunch.

As he expected, once the convoy reached the town center, they turned north—heading straight for Sprees’ Kitchen.

So Wang Bo called Kobe and said, “My guys and I are patrolling at noon. We don’t have time to grab lunch. Prepare some of your best dishes for us—Atulu will come pick them up.”

Zhuang Ding was in Atulu’s police car. Wang Bo planned to use that to create an opportunity—make Zhuang Ding attack the convoy, giving them a reason to conduct a search.

After hanging up, he called Atulu again and told them to go pick up the food.

He then opened the sand table and racked his brain trying to figure out how to make Zhuang Ding take interest in the RV.

Atulu and Gerald soon arrived at the restaurant. Each carried back a lunchbox. Wang Bo was just about to set up the opportunity when Atulu suddenly called him.

The moment he picked up, a tense voice came through: “Boss, we need backup! Gerald says something’s off with a few people in the restaurant—they’re carrying weapons!”

Wang Bo was thrilled—it saved him the trouble. He hadn’t expected Gerald to be that sharp, spotting concealed handguns.

He told the two to observe quietly, then rushed over with Uncle Bing and the others.

The police car silently rolled into the parking lot. Atulu casually walked over and leaned close to the window, whispering, “Five people in total, boss. They don’t look easy to deal with. If Gerald’s not mistaken, they’re carrying handguns…”

Wang Bo comforted him, “It’s fine. We have plenty of people—and there’s Zhuang Ding and the Queen. Besides, I’ve got a gun.”

“You only have one!” Atulu protested. “I really think we should request AOS support.”

“F**k that—AOS won’t get here until tonight. You think those guys will stay in there until then?” Uncle Bing said helplessly.

Wang Bo cracked his knuckles. “What if we strike first? Take the initiative?”

Conley shook his head. “Not a good idea, boss. What if they’re innocent? What if they aren’t armed?”

Gerald said coldly, “Smith & Wesson M39. At least two.”

Non-law enforcement personnel were prohibited by law from carrying concealed weapons such as handguns in public. If they had pistols, they could arrest them.

And the fact that they were using the American M39 pistol proved they definitely weren’t law enforcement—unless they were special agents.

Wang Bo spit into his hands. “So many guns? Then we’d better be careful. You all think—what’s the move?”

Guns were no joke. The Smith & Wesson M39 was more powerful than the police Glock. It used to be standard equipment for U.S. special forces and police—a deadly weapon.

Direct confrontation was out of the question. NZ police weren’t Chinese army shock troops. Facing armed criminals without a tenfold advantage in strength, they definitely wouldn’t rush in.

Wang Bo began to regret it a little—why was he being so righteous? These people were just passing through Sunset Town—letting them go wouldn’t affect him.

But then he looked down at the golden police badge on his chest and felt that thought was a bit too shameful.

Uncle Bing said, “Here’s the plan: I’ll sabotage their RV so it won’t start after they finish eating. They’ll have to repair it first, giving us time to request backup.”

Gerald glanced at Zhuang Ding and the Queen. “Too much trouble. Let’s just ambush them. You and I take one each. Zhuang Ding and the Queen take one each. Everyone else takes one. Done.”

Wang Bo shook his head—no way he was taking that risk. The other side had guns!

He called Sheriff Smith and Sam, asking them to come provide armed support. Uncle Bing then went to tamper with the RV.

He quietly approached the vehicle, squatted down, and began fiddling with the door, trying to unlock it to slip inside and sabotage it.

Just as he worked, the window suddenly rolled down. A stern face appeared. “Hey, what are you doing?”

The atmosphere instantly froze.

Uncle Bing’s concealment had been decent, and he had removed his uniform top, so the man didn’t immediately recognize him. But from his elevated angle, he spotted the police uniform pants—and his expression changed instantly.

Uncle Bing’s expression also changed. He had been careless—he didn’t check whether someone was inside. He was no longer the SAS elite he once was.

But the instincts remained. Both sides froze for a brief moment—but Uncle Bing reacted first. He grabbed the man’s collar and yanked half his body through the window, striking his temple with his palm. The man dropped unconscious without a sound.

Now they couldn’t wait for backup.

Uncle Bing quickly signaled Wang Bo: “Follow Gerald’s plan. Guys—let’s do it. Five men—we must take them down immediately!”

Uncle Bing, Gerald, Zhuang Ding, and the Queen were all reliable. The unreliable ones were Wang Bo’s trio; even three-on-one, they probably wouldn’t win—they were more likely to get taken out themselves.

Time was running out. Wang Bo came up with an idea: “Everyone take off your shirts. Conley, drive Kobe’s car and ram that one over there. Start a conflict. Draw their attention—then we strike.”

“No problem!”

Zhuang Ding had been sitting by the door the whole time, his dog face full of confusion—something inside the car seemed to bother him.

Wang Bo worried it might be something dangerous. He opened the door to check and saw a large cage inside the luxurious RV—inside were several little chicks, huddled together timidly.

Zhuang Ding stuck his head in and stared at the chicks. Still confused.

Time passed quickly. The five men finished their meal and walked out. One was even holding a to-go box—probably for the guy in the car.

Conley slammed the gas pedal. Kobe’s BMW X6 rammed violently into a Camry parked next to the RV.

Inside the Camry were three or four young men chatting loudly. They were startled by the impact and jumped out angrily.

With his back to the five targets, Conley flipped off the young men. “F**k you cheap bastards! Driving a Camry and blocking my way!”

The muscular young men were instantly enraged. They surrounded him. A guy with a buzz cut asked, “Buddy, are you looking for trouble?”

Conley hadn’t expected them to escalate immediately. His mission was to start a conflict—but a verbal conflict. He didn’t intend to get beaten up!