Neighborhood Defense Alliance

Chapter 57 Neighborhood Defense Alliance

After having breakfast at the hotel, Martin went to the lobby and made a phone call to Benjamin.

When Benjamin mentioned last time that he was a film and television graduate of the Savannah College of Art and Design, he said that Benjamin wanted to send him to the Holy Valley.

Martin mentioned the accent issue, and Benjamin, needing Martin's help, immediately helped him contact the person.

Within minutes, Martin was given a contact number. He drove to the Atlanta campus, found the relevant personnel, and obtained his auditing qualification and class schedule for the performing arts department.

After attending a professional class all morning, Martin went to a nearby professional bookstore in the afternoon and bought a tape recorder and other auxiliary equipment.

He called Kelly Gray, who was still in Washington dealing with important matters.

Martin couldn't say those things over the phone; he could only wait until she returned.

Back in Clayton, at the school bus stop, Martin finds two skinny black boys trying to harass Lily.

Lily is almost as tall as Elena now.

The Martin drove up and honked its horn, and Lily quickly ran over.

The two skinny, dark-skinned boys were not giving up and wanted to follow.

Martin pulled out a short-barreled shotgun from under the passenger seat, and the two black guys turned and ran.

Lily got into the passenger seat and snatched the gun from Martin's hand.

Martin put the gun to the other side: "From now on, Harris will pick you up and drop you off."

"Give me a gun." Lily pulled a knife from her bag. "I'll make sure those bastards keep an eye on me!"

Martin, of course, wouldn't give it to him.

Back at the Carter's house, Elena was still practicing bartending when Martin told her what had just happened.

Elena said, "Harris, from now on you'll be in charge of picking Lily up and dropping her off at the school bus stop."

Recently, the community's security has deteriorated. After dinner, no one wants to go out; everyone is busy doing their own thing.

Martin put on his headphones and listened to the recording to practice his accent.

I need to practice whenever I have time; it's a long-term process.

As night deepened, the black minivan approached the Clayton.

Scott Carter lay sprawled on his seat in an odd position, glancing out the window every now and then. All the streetlights outside were out, and it was pitch black.

By the moonlight, he saw two black men running out of an alleyway and robbing an unfortunate man.

The car hadn't gone far when it stopped, and the driver shouted, "We're here! Get out!"

Scott shuffled off the bus, his legs still aching despite having taken two painkillers beforehand, and he could only move forward with a pigeon-toed gait.

Arriving at the store entrance, it took a lot of effort to lift the roller shutter door.

He entered the store, and from the previously pitch-black shadows, four black men dressed in black ran out and rushed into the store before Scott could close it.

A dark gun was pointed at Scott's face.

Scott was dumbfounded. This black guy from the South City was really good at using his talent.

The bald, black man with the gun said, "If you don't want to die, hand over all your money."

Another Black man then pulled down the roller shutter: "We have plenty of time."

Scott raised his hands: "Don't shoot, I'll pay! I'll pay!"

Money is not as important as life.

He gave away the money he earned that night before he could even enjoy it.

"That's nothing!" the black man with the gun said. "You've been treating everyone at the bar lately, and you even said you were making a fortune. A few hundred dollars? Are you kidding me?"

Scott said, "That's all, really!"

"Search!" Bald Old Black gave the order, and the other three Old Blacks ransacked the place.

The night was long, and the black men had already set their sights on Scott, searching every corner of the grocery store.

With a gun pointed at his head, Scott didn't dare to move.

The grocery store wasn't big, and the old men quickly pulled out several liquor boxes, which were stuffed with banknotes of various denominations.

Scott was trembling all over, but there was nothing he could do.

The men opened the roller shutter and disappeared into the night.

Scott didn't even dare to call the police; his shop had too many stolen goods of dubious origin.

"My money! My money!" Scott's legs gave way, and he collapsed to the ground.

Then he jumped up again, shouting, "My butt!"

…………

In the morning, at the Carter's house, five people were having breakfast around the coffee table.

Martin looked at Harris, whose cast had been removed: "How did you do on the SAT?"

Harris knew Martin didn't understand the specific score distribution, so he said, "You did very well on the test, but your social practice is relatively weak. You have a better chance of getting into a public university."

Martin asked, "What about the tuition?"

Harris already had an idea: "Student loans."

Lily suddenly interjected, "You still won't be able to pay off your debts even when you retire."

Elena pulled the lottery ticket stub out of her pocket, compared it with the results in the newspaper, cursed, and threw it into the trash can.

Martin asked, "Didn't you hit it?"

Lily interjected, "She's always had terrible luck."

Mr. Wood then entered from outside, smiling, and said, "You're all here."

Elena quickly tossed the kettle under the coffee table: "Wood, is something wrong?"

Mr. Wood sat in a chair: "There have been a lot of robberies in the neighborhood these past few days. We've called the police but haven't received any response. I've contacted many people to make complaint calls, and finally the West Side Police Department sent someone to talk to us. Martin, I heard you joined a very influential social organization, and I'd like to invite you to come with us."

Elena looked at Martin, who said, "Mr. Wood, I'll go with you."

Lily couldn't hold back any longer: "It's all because of those black bastards, they should be sent to the zoo!"

This time, Elena ignored Lily.

Martin changed into slightly more formal clothes and brought his ATL Freedom Club work pass with Wood to the outskirts of the community.

Ashley, Welbeck, Nani, Valencia, and others who had some influence in the community all arrived.

After waiting a short while at Nani's community supermarket, the representatives sent by the police arrived.

A Black police officer.

The hot-tempered Nani tried to use polite language: "Officer, ever since those black gangsters came to the neighborhood, Clayton's security has been completely ruined!"

The Black police officer said, "This has nothing to do with Black people."

Nani couldn't help but exclaim, "Before the Black people came, Clayton wasn't exactly safe, but it wasn't this bad!"

The Black police officer stood up: "Are you discriminating against Black people?"

"No, absolutely not." This huge accusation was too much for the White House official to handle, so Martin quickly pulled Nani aside and showed him his work ID.

The Black police officer glanced at the Freedom Club badges, didn't dwell on the issue, and said coldly, "We will increase surveillance in this area, but police resources are limited, and it's impossible to maintain a high frequency of patrols. Here's a suggestion: form a neighborhood defense alliance. You can report the names of the members, and the police department will register them."

That's as good as saying nothing at all.

The Black police officer glanced at his watch and said, "I have other work to do, so I'll stop here."

The other party had the advantage of skin color, so the issue of Black people was impossible to discuss, and everyone could only watch him leave.

Nani asked, "What do we do?"

"I'm old, but I'm willing to do my part for the community," Wood said. "I have a rifle."

"We'll form a patrol team!" Wilbeck said.

Fletcher asked, "What about the costs?"

Everyone fell silent; the poor earned just enough to support their families.

Martin offered a more practical suggestion: "Post notices on community bulletin boards, advising people to stay home at night and avoid secluded areas even during the day. Collect information on families owning guns and exchange contact details so that others can provide support in case of an attack."

Wood said, "Statisticians, we'll report it. If those thugs really intend to attack the community, we can proactively defend ourselves."

Joining the defense alliance would make firing a lot less trouble. Martin thought for a moment and said, "Elena and I have guns."

That afternoon, Nani, Wood, and others took the list to the police station and registered it.

The neighborhood defense alliance of Clayton community has been officially established.

The yard had virtually no fence; Martin and Elena collected many aluminum cans, filled them with gravel, and tied them to the front and back fences.

(End of this chapter)