“What shall we do?” Silo hesitates and turning around to look at me.

 The SUV’s taillights are flickering, slowing down and driving on the S-shaped routes over the road. The driver is skillfully blocking our overtaking route.

 Silo’s expression is somewhat exciting, but more nervous. This fellow looks at me with some eagerness. The other two brothers also understand something. After all there are so many things happened recently.

 “Are they Vietnamese?” One of the brothers in the back row is asking nervously. They are only working in the garage, and never went out to do any business except prctise fighting in the gym.

 They are all looking at me at this moment.

 I’m expressionless, but simply pull out a glove from my jacket pocket, then pull out a Browning pistol from my waist. I crook my head and say to Silo, “Slow down, then stop. Don’t open the door. Let’s take a look first.”

 This section of road is not a commercial street, so that not prosperous on both sides. There also aren’t many pedestrians and vehicles. Silo turns on the emergency flasher and then slowing our car down too.

 Two cars stop at the roadside one after another.

 I can see that Silo and the other two brothers are a little nervous. The expressions on their faces are somewhat complicated. Silo is clenching his fists and staring at the SUV in front of us.

 I pat his thigh gently to let him relax, another hand is holding the gun and hiding inside the cardoor.

 The door of the SUV is pushed open and a foot in black boot is stepping out. Then I see a thin, short man coming out. The man is wearing a red suit with bald head and yellow skin. He is coming towards us.

 I notice that he’s empty-handed.

 This discovery makes me signal to Silo and the other two brothers not to be impulsive. Meanwhile, I pin the gun to the inside handle of the door.

 Bang Bang…

 The man comes up to our car and tapping on the window glass to signal us to roll down the window.

 Watching him closely, he has a round face with a big hooked nose. His eyes are very bright, but the bald head makes me feel a little uncertain about his age.

 I look at him coldly, and the pistol is pointing at him through the door. His hand lifts his suit gently, which makes Silo nervous again. But I still do not move. As the front of his suit is opened, my eyes are immediately shrinking. Inside the suit is a badge haging on his chest.

 “A cop!”

 Silo and I look at each other, but we do not dare to relax our vigilance.

 I wink at Silo, signal that he and the others don’t move.

 “Hey!” The hawk-nosed policeman leans the top-half of his body over the outside of our carwindow, and his voice is somewhat lazily. His suit is open, intentionally or unintentionally, revealing the badge deliberately.

 Neither Silo nor I speak. With a complicated smile on his face, he says to us in a slightly weird accent: “Hello, gentlemen.”

 His eyes are sweeping around me intentionally or unintentionally. It seems that he also from the eye contacts knows that I should be the head here.

 “What’s the problem, sir?” I look at him and say, “Were we speeding just now?”

 He is shaking his head with a smile on the face. But that kind of smile makes me feel uncomfortable: “No, you didn’t overspeed, you didn’t violate any traffic regulations.” Then he is looking at Silo and says, “May I take a look your ID?”

 Silo, with a sullen face, takes out his driver’s license and gives it to that cop. Then he shows the ID card too.

 “Your ID, please?” This hawk nose turns to me again.

 I smile a little, pin the gun to the door handle, and take out my ID card and hand it over naturally.

 “Oh, your visa is about to expire.” His eyebrows are picking, eyes are also narrowing. I see a light is flashing through his eyes.

 “But not yet, is it? Officer?” I look at him coldly.

 “Oh, it’s just a reminder.” He’s smiling.

 I find that next to their SUV, there are two other men are standing there. But for some unknow reasons they do not come toward.

 Then he checks all of our IDs. Finally, he’s focusing his interest on me clearly. His eyes keep staring at me: “Please open the trunk.”

 Silo says: “Why? What’s the problem?”

 The hawk-nosed man is still having a strange smile on his face: “Nothing, just check.”

 Then he is staring at me intentionally and says: “Are you new to Canada? I have the right to inspect your vehicles in public because I suspect that there might be some contraband in your car.”

 I take a look at Silo and he nods slightly.

 I look at this cop out of the window. He doesn’t know I’m holding a gun in one hand and is hiding inside the car door. From this angel, as long as I shoot, bullets not only can hit him through the door, but also his key part! With a smile on my face, I slip the gun into my trouser pocket, then open the door and walk out without change any expression.

 I open the trunk and allow him to examine it. At the same time, I open my hands and step back.

 He whistles, and two of his companions come over immediately. Without saying a word, they begin to search the trunk of our car.

 The trunk is full of food and daily necessities, which are turned over and thrown on the ground one by one. I feel a little upset because they are just looking for trouble. I can see that they have no intention of finding anything at all, just deliberately messing up our goods.

 Our flour bags are torn open by them. The flours are spilled all over the ground. They also use the knives to pierce the rice bags and let the rice flow out.

 I frown, just staring at these guys coldly.

 I slowly pull out a pack of cigarettes, just ready to light. But the hawk-nosed man is suddenly smiling at me: “Sir, in Canada, smoking is not allowed in public places. Please don’t smoke, or I can take you back to the police station directly!”

 A few minutes later, two policemen who are searching suddenly shouting out and holding something out of the trunk with malicious smiles on their face: “Something interesting.”

 I take a look at it. It’s a paper bag which I don’t know what it it.

 They open it in disguise, examine it, and sniff it in front of their noses.

 “It’s the marihuana!” One of them is shouting in a high-pitched voice.

 The hooked-nose is showing a sneer at the corner of the mouth and staring at me: “Sir, please explain it.”

 I shrug my shoulders: “This is not ours.”

 I’ve got a lot of angers in my heart, but the more I have experienced, the more I’m able to control my emotion. When my heart is full of the angers, my face is still keeping calm.

 Obviously, they are tricking us.

 Just now, when the two guys were checking the trunk with their backs to us, both of them were leaning together to block my eyes. Don’t say they put in a bag of marijuana, even if they put in a few packs of heroin, nobody can see it!

 “Please step back.” The hawk-nosed man is looking at me with a proud expression on his face.

 Silo and the other two brothers get out of the car and looking at me as if waiting for my my instructions to action. But the two policemen have pulled out their guns and pointing at us with the wary looks on their faces.

 I think over it and make a decision quickly. I’ve passed that impulsive stage, and now I’m not going to be reckless.

 Although there are three policemen in front of me and they all have guns, I am confident that I can definitely kill them. But I will not be foolish enough to kill the police, which might cause unnecessary troubles.

 I’m sneering, slowly stepping back and then raising my hands.

 A policeman comes to search me at once and find my gun in my trouser pocket. I give him a cold look and say: “I have license. It’s legal.”

 He doesn’t say anything, takes my gun away, and then Silo and other two brothers do not resist under my signal too. We just let these cops search.

 “Now, please go back to the station with us.” The hawk-nosed man is looking at me and smiling.

 “Please tell me your name and the police number, officer.” I’m keeping quiet.

 “Jeff.” He is shrugging his shoulders and then shows us his badge to let us see it clearly.

 “Do you think it makes sense?” I look at him coldly, “You have no any evidence. It’s a booty planting.” I put down my hands, take out the glove and put them on. Meanwhile, I motion Silo and the other two btothers to put on the gloves too.

 This season is cold, we all go out with the gloves.

 “There’s no fingerprints of any of us on that package. I can go back with you, but I want to call a lawyer and let the lawyer deal with it.”

 Speaking of this, I’m looking at the policeman names Jeff with a mocking expression and say with a deliberate laugh: “I’m indeed a newcomer and I’m not familiar with Canadian law. But you don’t have any laws to forbidden people wear the gloves, do you? That’s good!”