Watching the two patrol officers, unsteady from the high-temperature environment, Dean had them rest. He then called over two unfamiliar officers with tools to pry open the heavy lock on the iron hatch in the floor.
It appeared to be an enclosed space inside.
The moment the iron hatch was lifted, a foul, rotting smell rushed up from below, hitting the two officers who had gleefully taken over. The odor was pungent.
The two rolled their eyes back and, without even registering the urge to vomit, simply fainted.
Dean was speechless.
Right, two more consumables down.
He could only gesture for Salami and his partner, who had recovered some of their strength, to drag the two unconscious officers aside. He also had them fetch a small camera and some gas masks from the car.
Fortunately, Los Angeles was wealthy, and its patrol officers were well-equipped. All these items were in the police car.
