Police in Los Angeles

John's voice came through the phone: "I think I see him."

As Jack dashed across the street with his Glock in hand, two gunshots rang out from inside the house almost simultaneously. Jack's heart tightened as he loudly called John's name and dialed 911 again.

John's voice echoed from inside: "I'm okay, shot in the shoulder. The suspect is by the pool, down with a gunshot wound."

Jack spoke loudly into the phone, "This is Officer Jack Tavola at 5439 Chautauqua Boulevard. Officer John Nolan has been attacked in his home and is injured. The suspect is down. We need an ambulance immediately."

Hanging up, Jack continued to call out, "John, I'm coming in. Are you alright?"

John let out a painful groan. Jack first headed to the pool, keeping his Glock trained on the intruder lying on the ground. The man had a chest wound, blood bubbling with each breath—likely a lung shot and probably beyond saving.

Just to be safe, Jack handcuffed the man and left him to bleed out. He turned and went inside to check on John.

John's situation wasn't great either. A bullet had hit his right shoulder, causing him to collapse behind the sofa in pain. The bullet seemed lodged in his shoulder blade without an exit wound.

Jack propped him up and used a towel to staunch the bleeding. He applied a bit of healing magic to slow the blood loss but didn't dare continue, fearing it would be hard to explain to the paramedics later.

Making John comfortable on the sofa, Jack asked, "Do you know who he is?"

John, breathing heavily, replied, "He said his name is Kyle Montgomery, the brother of Alex, the guy I shot a few days ago. I saw him at the precinct when he filed a complaint. Don't worry about me; his injuries should be worse. Go check on him."

"You're such a saint. I'll recommend you for canonization by the Vatican," Jack retorted sarcastically. Grabbing another towel, he walked back to the poolside. The intruder was barely breathing.

Jack used the towel to press on the wound, but this time, he didn't use healing magic. Instead, he performed a perfunctory CPR, thinking about how the former Japanese Prime Minister's bodyguard had done the same when the Prime Minister was shot in the chest. Hopefully, no one would question his actions.

Jack didn't oppose vengeance for a family member, but in this situation, he had to support eradicating any threats. After all, John was his friend, and loyalty dictated his stance.

Within five minutes, a night patrol car arrived. Jack quickly identified himself, aware that police officers on night shifts were often on edge and could mistakenly shoot a fellow officer. Shortly after, two ambulances arrived, taking John and the body away.

Twenty minutes later, Wilshire precinct officers arrived, including Captain Grey and Zoe. Jack had just finished giving his statement to the night patrol when he greeted them and explained the situation.

Captain Grey, with a stern expression, nodded after listening, considering it a grudging compliment. Zoe patted Jack's shoulder, signaling not to mind: "Isabella, Tim's wife, was exposed while meeting with drug dealers tonight and is currently missing. Tim and the DEA are still searching for her. Captain Grey and I were at the precinct waiting for updates."

Jack nodded in understanding and asked, "Do you need me to stay on duty? I didn't fire my weapon, so I'm available."

Zoe shook her head. "We have sufficient personnel. Go home and rest. If the DEA finds new leads tomorrow, there might be a raid."

Jack acknowledged, planning to wash the blood off his hands before driving home to sleep. However, a male Internal Affairs agent suddenly appeared, blocking his way.

"Are you Officer Jack Tavola? What's your relationship with John Nolan? Why were you at his home tonight? Do you know the suspect?"

The barrage of questions momentarily stunned Jack. Is this how LAPD Internal Affairs operates? They seemed more like they were treating their own officers as criminals.

"John and I are colleagues and friends. I drove him home and noticed a suspicious vehicle across the street. I called 911 and warned John. There should be recordings of my two calls at dispatch. I don't understand what you're implying. I'm exhausted and plan to go home."

Jack's temper flared. He believed his actions today were beyond reproach. If this Internal Affairs agent persisted, he wouldn't hesitate to involve the union lawyer. As a patrol officer with aspirations of climbing the ranks, maintaining a clean record was essential. It wasn't time to delve into gray areas yet.

Fortunately, Jack's recent performance had been commendable, and capable individuals naturally garnered protection from their superiors. Before Zoe could intervene, Captain Grey, who had been scowling, stepped in.

"You, stay away from my officer. Jack might be a rookie, but I can say he knows how to be a good LAPD officer better than you. His actions today were flawless. If I see you harassing him again, I won't hesitate to file a complaint with Captain West."

This stern supervisor was someone Jack could respect. His impression of Grey improved significantly, recalling how his attitude towards John had softened recently. Grey was as strict and principled as portrayed in the show—a good man. Jack remembered that Grey later survived a severe shooting. He'd have to find a way to save him again if that scenario arose.

Using John's bathroom, Jack cleaned the blood off his hands and body, then checked his system. The recent parking lot shootout had earned him considerable experience. Although he hadn't fired a shot tonight, his significant involvement in the incident, combined with patrols, had earned him another gold coin, leaving his experience bar at 15.

Zoe saw Jack come out, greeted Captain Grey, and excused herself, saying she needed to return to the precinct. She walked out with Jack, asking softly once they were out of earshot, "Are you sure you're okay?"

Jack, understanding her meaning, shook his head. "I'm fine. John handled it himself. I didn't enter an adrenaline rush state."

With colleagues around, it wasn't appropriate to tease his superior, so they didn't talk much and each got into their own cars.

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