The raids were executed with ruthless, overwhelming efficiency.
I wasn't there. I didn't watch them live. But I heard them later, second-hand, through the sounds in the room and the light from the TV.
Superintendent Cho didn't send beat cops to knock on the doors of Lin's underground poker rooms. She sent heavily armed tactical units. I could picture it even without the feed: the weight of the gear, the smell of oil and sweat under the vests, the cold metal of the hydraulic rams.
They hit three separate VIP rooms in independent casinos simultaneously. The doors were reinforced steel. The rams hit them with a deep, shuddering _boom_ that I imagined vibrating through the floors. Then came the rush of air, the shout of commands, and the sharp, chemical bite of tear gas.
I watched the aftermath on the local news the following morning.
