Chapter 17 — Calls are not allowed to be hung up

— What's going on here?

Vuong Dac Long's voice rang out behind Dan, cold and alert. He had left the office without anyone noticing, perhaps pulled out of his desk by Dan's scream just now, where the door was always half-open so he could listen in on any unusual developments in the duty room during the night shift. He stood there, arms crossed over his chest, eyes staring at the sound wave screen where the sound of Vinh's door punch was still echoing through the speaker, his face in the cold white fluorescent light showing a mixture of panic and an anxiety that had been ingrained in his professional instincts over the years.

The whole duty room and other night shift colleagues who were handling scattered calls also began to notice the tension spreading from the corner of Dan's desk, even though no one dared to ask questions while the situation was clearly at its most tense peak.

— Mr. Long, Mr. Vinh are at the scene, asking to open the door of the apartment in question. — Anh Tuyet replied for Dan, her voice trying to stay calm even though the situation was extremely tense. — The girl reported an unusual noise, a threatening sound from the man in the house.

— Who allowed him to do that? I have never approved any official mobilization request for this situation, nor have any documents been presented to my desk.

— I allow it. — Dan said, without taking her eyes off the screen, her voice was so decisive that even she was surprised at her sudden steadfastness amid the chaos surrounding her on all sides. — I asked him to act based on what I heard directly over the line.

Long was silent for a second, his expression flashed with something between shock and anger, then he stepped closer, his voice lowered but still powerful, each step he took on the tile floor of the duty room echoed clearly in the space that had become unusually quiet around Dan's desk.

— Dan, do you understand what you just did? I just directed a police officer to act beyond his authority based on the direction of a switchboard operator, without any documents, without any orders from competent authorities. If this is not as you think, both you and he will have to bear a very heavy responsibility.

— I understand that clearly, sir. But I'm hearing a baby crying on the phone right now, and I can't pretend I didn't hear anything just because I don't have the paperwork yet.

— This is not about paperwork, Dan. This is about what rights we have and what we don't have in this job. If everyone gives themselves the right to override the process every time they feel sure of their intuition, this system will collapse.

— I'm not saying everyone should do that. I said right now, with what I'm hearing right in my ears, I can't do anything else.

— So what about Vinh? Have you thought about the fact that you are putting someone else's career at risk, just because you trust your own judgment?

That question made Dan pause for a moment, but she did not back down.

— I thought about that. And Mr. Vinh also considered that risk when deciding to go. He's not someone who can be easily persuaded to do something he doesn't believe in, Mr. Long. He believed in what he saw with his own eyes and heard with his own ears when standing in front of that door, not just in what I said on the phone.

Bao Ky, standing nearby, opened his mouth to say something but then stopped. His eyes flickered back and forth between Long and Dan, clearly torn between his reason to follow the process and his emotions rising from what he had just witnessed all night.

Bao Ky took a deep breath, then suddenly spoke, his voice trembling but clear.

— Mr. Long, I was suspicious of Ms. Dan earlier this evening. I used to think she let her past influence her career judgment. But I listened to every call, every clue she put together, and I believe what she's doing is right.

Long looked at him and said nothing, but his eyes softened somewhat at the unexpected confirmation from the most skeptical colleague in the room.

— Mr. Long, please listen to the entire recording. — Anh Tuyet said, her voice began to have a rare harshness. — That girl just said a complete sentence, for the first time all night, "Miss, help me". You can order it to stop, but you'll have to live with that decision if anything happens while we're arguing.

Long stood still, his eyes scanned the screen, where the sound waves were still dancing chaotically, and in that moment, it seemed like his own past, the warehouse night three years ago, was also rushing back, placing a pressure on his shoulders even heavier than the process he had always believed in.

He recalls the feeling of standing before the disciplinary council, explaining every minute, of being judged not only on his decisions but also on the motives behind them. He didn't want Dan to have to go through the same thing, but he also understood that, in his position right now, any advice might come too late to change whatever was happening on the other end of the line.

— Mr. Long, time is running out. — Dan said, her voice lowered, no longer confrontational, but changed to a sincere plea. — I'm not asking you to agree with me. I just ask you not to stop me right now, that's all.

He looked at Anh Tuyet, who had stood next to Dan all night, then looked at Bao Ky, the young man who had always been the most cautious person in the team, was now also standing by Dan's side without hesitation. Three people, three different perspectives on the boundary between process and intuition, but right now they are all heading towards the same common point.

— I cannot officially approve this. — He spoke, his voice slow, each word seemed to be carefully measured. — But I won't order you to hang up right now.

— So what does that mean?

— That means I will stand here, listen with you, and when everything is over, no matter the outcome, I will be the one responsible and accountable to my superiors. But Dan, if Vinh breaks the door and there is nothing unusual inside, the consequences will not be small, for both of you.

— I know you. I accept that, completely.

Long looked at her for a long time, his eyes no longer had the stern look of a manager, but carried something close to reluctant respect, an emotion that could only arise between two people who both understood the price of having to choose between process and conscience.

- Okay. From now on, I'm here with you until everything is completely over.

He pulled an empty chair from the next table and sat down next to Anh Tuyet, no longer keeping the distance of a superior watching from afar, but becoming part of the small group focusing all their attention on the small speaker on the table.

At that moment, from the line with Vinh, a new sound rang out, different from the steady sound of pounding the door before: the sound of wood cracking, a loud "crack" resounding, and then the sound of footsteps rushing inside.

All four people in the room simultaneously held their breath, eyes glued to the small speaker emitting the only sound connecting them to an apartment many kilometers away, where the fate of a child and a mother was being decided in the next few seconds.

Long, even though he had only sat down for less than a minute, clasped his hands together and placed them on his lap, the posture of a person praying even though he had never considered himself a religious person. Anh Tuyet reached out to hold Dan's hand, without saying anything, just squeezing gently, a gesture that carried everything that words could not express in this moment.

The noise from the line continued: the sound of wood breaking, the footsteps of many people, perhaps not only Vinh, but also other residents in the building who had been awakened by the noise and were gathering near the apartment door to see what was happening in the middle of the night.

— This is the police, stay still! — Vinh's voice rang out, decisive and powerful, an order that did not accept any resistance.

After that statement, there was only a brief but suffocatingly dense silence, before any other sound could be heard to indicate what was really happening inside that apartment.