"Are you sure?" Louise looked at Chief Wright with a half-smile. He nodded. "Ma'am, we didn't fly for eight hours just to eat donuts."
"Alright then, follow me."
Louise nodded and led the group to the inn where Morris was being held. Feng Shan was sitting imposingly by the door, a Type 56 rifle leaning beside him, wearing a 'keep your distance' expression.
Seeing the rifle, the four troopers quickly drew their sidearms and scattered for cover.
"Pal, you'd better not move. We're state troopers. Hands up, drop the weapon." Chief Wright ducked behind a dumpster, peeking out and squinting to size up Feng Shan, who was sitting in a chair wearing a coat of animal hides.
'He doesn't look old, probably around twenty.'
'From his features, it's impossible to tell if he's Inuit, Indian, or from the Aleut People. One of the Indigenous People, anyway.'
As a veteran who'd retired from the Rangers, his sixth sense was screaming at him that the man before him was dangerous.
