Chapter 205: Is the Name Loud Enough?

While waiting for the phone, the tinkerer didn't continue the surgery, but asked casually: "By the way, sir, I don't know your name yet."

The fat old white man said fiercely: "Andrew Saxon, remember this name well."

"Is this name very loud? Will people know it as soon as they hear it?" The tinkerer asked curiously.

"You can try it, see if there is anyone among those gangsters or police who doesn't know me. If there is, it only shows that he is not from Los Angeles." The fat old white man said proudly.

The young white guy who returned to the operating room didn't bring the desk phone the tinkerer imagined, but brought a portable phone.

By the time of '93, portable phones, commonly known as mobile phones later, also began to become popular. Although the functions weren't as many as the smart phones of the 21st century, at least they had freed people from the shackles of telephone lines.

Seeing that the mobile phone sent up was a German Siemens, it could be said to be the best mobile phone brand of this era, with better reviews than Nokia and others.

The reason was simple: its signal reception performance was good enough! In the same location, maybe other brands of mobile phones had no signal, but Siemens could squeeze out one or two bars of signal. This was its advantage.

It could almost be described by saying that Siemens in this era ranked second, and no one dared to rank first.

"Do you know how to operate it?" The young guy who sent it up asked. There was a bit of contempt in his tone.

"This isn't simple." The tinkerer took the phone, pressed the "911" number key, and then pressed the green dial button.

Due to the angle, only a few medical staff standing behind the tinkerer could see. It was just that in the operating room, everyone was wearing masks. For a while, no one noticed the strange expressions of those few people.

The emergency center's phone wouldn't ring for too long, and someone picked it up immediately. The tinkerer said immediately: "I see Andrew Saxon. The location is in the old industrial area on the outskirts of Los Angeles, specifically at..."

The tinkerer told them the location of the warehouse where they were and how to get there in detail. Only then did the fat old white man and his men realize something was wrong, and someone raised a gun and asked: "Who are you calling? Who the fuck are you calling?"

Even Andrew Saxon, the boss lying on the operating table, figured out what was happening. He kept cursing on the side.

Glancing at the guy who raised the gun, the tinkerer very considerately took the initiative to put his forehead on the gun barrel, and the provocation was obvious.

At the same time, he cursed and replied to the questions on the phone, saying: "Who I am is none of your business, believe it or not. If this person isn't important, then don't come."

The tinkerer, who had no interest in saying more, didn't cut the phone, but handed it directly to the guy whose gun was pointed at him. He returned the look with the same contemptuous gaze and said: "I gave you a chance, but you didn't dare, you really are a useless thing."

"What did you do! What the hell did you do to me!" The fat old white man shouted like crazy.

The tinkerer returned to the operating table, slowly picked up the suture needle with forceps, and finally prepared to end this surgery. While saying casually: "I just wanted to try if your name is really that loud, and everyone knows it when they hear it.

"Look, maybe just reporting the name Andrew Saxon, the police don't know who it is. By then, my surgery will be finished, and I can be left to your disposal.

"So gamble, Mr. Saxon. Gamble on whether you really have such an important status in the police's heart. Or gamble that the police will be late again and never catch anyone. Do you have any dirty cops you bought off inside? If not, it won't work.

"If you don't have a few informants in the police, what kind of boss are you. Look, if something like today happens, even if no one helps you block the disaster; even if there is no one to report the news, that's pitiful."

The fat old white man roared fiercely: "You unlicensed doctor, do you think that helping others perform surgery will be fine if you are caught by the cops. Tell you, if I am caught, you won't be able to run away either.

"If my surgery is finished first, and the police haven't arrived yet, do you think you still have a chance to live? Don't think that just leaving me here and waiting for the police to come is fine.

"Hey, you guys, watch this damn sour radish! If his hands stop, don't worry about anything, just kill him! Also, others go pack up, get the car ready, we are going to transfer the base."

Andrew Saxon could also be considered a decisive person, and he quickly gave instructions, making all his subordinates move. Everyone ran to drive and move things, taking what they could take, and abandoning what they couldn't take.

And the young white guy who invited the tinkerer was now holding a gun, pointing at the back of the head of this damn chief surgeon.

He had long wanted to kill this guy, but the boss didn't nod, so he couldn't act on his own. Especially when the boss's life was in his hands, killing the doctor, what the intention was, it was hard to say clearly.

Now that there was an order, there was no reason not to do it. So he stared at the tinkerer's movements.

The tinkerer making this call, of course, wasn't just calling randomly. The emergency rescue center operations of this era weren't like later generations, directly connected to computers. When a call came in, the applicant's information and approximate location would be displayed on the screen immediately.

The emergency rescue centers of this era relied more on the manual operation of operators. When it involved some important cases or special situations, there might be multiple people listening, but only one answering.

What Andrew Saxon, this fat white man, could be proud of was that his name was reported, and it did attract the attention of the emergency rescue center personnel.

Not only did the center supervisor listen in at the same time. From the background sound, the tinkerer also heard the instruction to transfer to the FBI.

This meant that it might not only be the police who came, but the FBI would also take action. And as long as things rose to the federal level, there shouldn't be a situation where it was treated as a false alarm and then no police were sent...

Probably.

After coming to this world, the tinkerer had only dealt with the small town sheriff in Alaska, and really didn't know how efficient the LAPD was. Nor did he know if there were any crazy operators who would treat the call as fake news and cut it off.

With the reaction of the emergency rescue center, the tinkerer expanded the scope of his attention. This allowed him to hear the police cars a few kilometers away receiving the emergency dispatch radio notification sound.

The instructions received by the nearest police station weren't to break in directly, but to block several main routes out of the warehouse area first.

The reason for not sending people to report the location to check the situation first was probably because when the tinkerer handed over the phone, he didn't deliberately cut off the phone. And the guy who answered the phone didn't notice this, just anxious to point the gun at people.

Andrew Saxon's speaking and cursing sounds were enough for the person on the other end of the phone to make many judgments.