Los Angeles Legendary Sleuth

If the delivery person was a member of the gang and killed according to the gang's orders, that would make sense.

Luke asked, "Does the Gonsede Gang have a motive for murder?"

"Yes, Natasha has been investigating the Gonsede Gang recently, and we have also located a base of theirs, but we haven't had the chance to raid it before Natasha encountered trouble.

If we could have acted one step earlier, maybe we could have avoided this tragedy..." Alfie Imma sighed.

Luke asked, "When are you planning to make a move?"

Alfie Imma replied, "The sooner the better, otherwise, those involved might flee to Mexico. Once they cross the border, it becomes much harder to apprehend them."

"Is the delivery man Brando Salvalto at the base?"

"We'll only know after we get there. Do you want to join in?"

"Of course, but Brando Salvalto has to be handed over to the Los Angeles Police Department."

Alfie Imma smiled, "Whoever catches him gets him."

...

Inside the Genobi Bar.

This bar is located near the Latin community, and many people come here for a drink to relax after a day's work.

It's four in the afternoon, the area near the bar is quiet, and it will be another two hours before customers start to arrive.

Inside a minivan, Luke sat in the backseat looking through the window towards the bar, "Are you sure this is a Gonsede Gang base?"

Alfie Imma answered, "No doubt about it. Don't underestimate this bar; it could very well be a drug concealment spot.

Many UPS company delivery personnel come here for a drink after work, and most of these couriers are Latin. Do you think that's a coincidence?"

Luke observed the bar, which was on a rather secluded street with two stories and a large area, "Do you have a layout of the bar's interior?"

Alfie Imma spread out a blueprint of the bar, "The bar has two floors, and there's also a cellar basement.

I suspect that the cellar is very likely the drug concealment location. The Gonsede Gang transports drugs from Mexico, and this place acts as a transit point."

Luke studied the structure of the bar and said, "The bar has a mix of different kinds of people, how do you plan on catching them?"

Alfie Imma replied, "We start now."

"At this time, there probably aren't many people in the bar, and the other accomplices could run away if they hear the news. Don't you think the losses may outweigh the benefits?"

Alfie Imma said, "I have considered that too. Acting now could let many gang members slip through.

If we do it in the evening, with the bar crowded, it would be full of gang members as well as drinking patrons, likely causing collateral damage.

Therefore, my plan is to take control of the bar while it's less crowded and wait for the other gang accomplices to walk into our trap."

Luke said, "That's a good plan, but news might leak out."

Alfie Imma agreed, "You're right, so during the operation, we can't make too much noise and we must act swiftly and decisively to apprehend the suspects in the bar without giving them a chance to alert their accomplices."

Luke thought for a moment, then nodded, "OK, let's work out the operational details."

...

Half an hour later.

Inside the Genobi Bar.

A thirty-something Latin bartender was wiping glasses.

Not far from him at a round table, three Latin men sat playing cards, drinking, and chatting.

"Creak..."

The door of the bar was pushed open from the outside, and in walked two men and a woman. Among them, the black man was carrying a large, old-fashioned tape recorder, with two large speakers on either side.

These three were Luke, Alfie Imma, and Little Black.

The bartender looked at the three people and said indifferently, "We are not open for business yet today. Come back later."

Little Black walked over to the bar and placed the recorder on it, "I remember that you used to be open at this time."

"Sorry, it's delayed today," shrugged the bartender, making a gesture to send them off. "Don't forget to take your recorder with you."

Little Black showed no intention of leaving and instead turned on the recorder, filling the room with a blast of rock music.

One of the Latino men playing cards stood up and cursed, "Fuck, turn that damn thing off, it's too loud."

Alfie Imma pulled out a silenced pistol, "Shut up, I can smell your halitosis from here."

"Damn it!" the Latino reached inside his clothing.

"Bang! Bang!"

Alfie Imma fired two shots, bringing the Latino man down to the ground.

At the same time, a younger Latino man turned and ran for it.

Luke also took out his pistol and fired twice at his legs, "Bang! Bang!"

"Ah..."

The young man screamed in agony, hit in the legs and falling to the ground.

At this moment, the rock music from the recorder served its purpose, masking the discordant sounds.

As the music erupted, several people rushed into the bar from the entrance, including plainclothes police officers and FBI agents.

With adequate preparation, the police and the FBI quickly took control of the scene.

Luke said to Alfie Imma, "I'm going to the cellar."

Alfie Imma replied, "I'll go to the second floor."

Leaving enough manpower to control the first floor of the bar, the two split up.

...

In the cellar, a twenty-something Caucasian man stood up anxiously, the noise from above making him uneasy.

"Creak..."

The door to the cellar opened from the outside.

The Caucasian man hurriedly pulled out a pistol, pointing it at the door, "Who's there?"

"It's me," the bartender's voice answered.

The Caucasian man glanced towards the entrance, relaxed upon confirming it was the bartender, and tucked the pistol away.

Just then, Little Black flashed out from beside the door, raised his pistol, and said, "Los Angeles Police, don't move!"

The Caucasian man didn't heed Little Black's command and turned to run, with shelves full of goods in the cellar easily obstructing the view.

"Fuck!

You can't escape; the bar is surrounded." Little Black led his team into the cellar, but considering the other party was armed, he didn't rush in immediately. Instead, he used the wine racks as cover, shouting to the other man.

"I can see you, drop your weapon and raise your hands!"

The Caucasian man, more familiar with the cellar's layout, seeing the police outnumbered and overpowering, didn't force a confrontation and didn't respond, but instead ran towards the back of the cellar, where there was another door, normally blocked by shelves stocked with wine and not in use.

The Caucasian man knocked over the shelves, unlocked the back door from the inside, climbed over the shelves, and escaped out the back.

With one foot barely out of the cellar, he caught sight of a figure to the side and instinctively reached for the pistol at his waist.

However, the figure was too close. Before he could draw his gun, a blur flashed before his eyes followed by a fierce gust of wind, then a swift punch struck his head.

"Bang!"

The Caucasian man felt as if he had been hit by a car, his body flung by the enormous inertia, his mind went blank, and he slumped to the ground.