At the entrance of the "Inn" bar, Jack glanced at the small parking lot, almost all of which were old pickup trucks.

Don't look at Montana, which has the reputation of "the state of wealth" and "the state of luxury cars", but because of the geographical climate and insufficient population, the level of economic development is relatively average, and the per capita GDP ranks last in the United States.

As a result, it's rare to see any expensive luxury cars in this state, but all over the country, luxury and vintage Montana cars are everywhere.

The name "Wealth State" comes from the state's rich mineral resources, but the most important thing in North America is mineral resources, and the inconvenience of transportation and the lack of labor force make the state's agriculture still dominate.

As for the "luxury car state", it is interesting because Montana is a tax-free state, and the state's law stipulates that buying a car in the state does not require annual inspections and emission checks.

Also in California, buying a new or used car with 30,000 yuan has to pay 2-3,000 yuan in consumption tax.

As a result, someone will register a company in Montana, buy a luxury car in the name of the company, hang the state's license plate, and usually as long as it is not excessive, the IRS will not keep an eye on it.

As a result, Montana once became the state with the largest number of luxury cars in the United States.

Of course, none of this has anything to do with these struggling locals, and the so-called "militia" is more or less like a mutual aid group huddling together to keep warm.

This is evident in their efforts to help Diana Goering get rid of her husband and free him from the devil.

They may not be educated, they are radical, they discriminate against minorities, they live poor, conservative lives, and they blame the damn federal ZF, but Jack still wants to try to communicate with them.

After all, no one knows the local situation better than these people, especially when Francis Goering was one of them.

Jack walked into the bar, which was not very large, and there were a dozen or so people seated.

"Hello, bring me a local beer."

Jack walked to the bar and smiled at the bartender's aunt, the shallow dimples on the baby's face made the aunt lose her mind for a while, and her hand involuntarily stretched out to the empty wine glass on the side.

"I please, as a thank you for saving that unfortunate woman, I heard that she almost died, but please leave quickly after drinking, the accomplices of the Federation are not welcome here."

A voice came from the small table beside him, and Jack looked for it, and an old white man with thinly haired hair, about fifty or sixty years old, but very lean-looking, was watching him.

"Thanks, it looks like I should drink slowly, after all, I still have a few questions to ask, are you Harris Townsend?"

Seeing that no one responded, Jack still smiled, took the beer handed by the bartender's aunt, and tasted it, it tasted quite good, it should be a private brew with barley as the main ingredient.

"Can you have a lingonberry pie? My first time in Montana and I heard that this is a must-try here, and it would be nice to have another steak if I could, and I'm so hungry that I can swallow a whole bison now. ”

Jack said, handing out a few bills.

"Hey, boy, don't get an inch, Harris said, you're not welcome here." Opposite the old white man who had spoken before, stood up a big stout man who glared at Jack with an unkind expression.

"Alright, Bobby, we're not rude savages."

The old white man also stood up, pressed the strong man's shoulder, and then looked at Jack's waist.

"Glock 22, very practical guy, but European."

As he spoke, he patted the revolver pinned to his waist, "Smith & Weson, pure American, I'm wondering which one is more reliable." ”

Jack smiled and pulled back his coat, revealing his armpit holster.

"Actually, I prefer this one, the FK7.5, an Eastern European product, and not long ago, I used it to take out a guy who was wearing body armor and a bulletproof helmet from 45 yards away."

The atmosphere in the bar instantly froze, and everyone stopped talking and looked at the two people in the confrontation with nervous expressions.

"In fact, I came to ask for help, and an hour ago we exhumed the scarred bodies of three innocent people in Francis Goering's rose garden, each of whom had been brutally tortured for months before dying."

"You must have seen the news when they disappeared, and now that Francis's accomplices are still at large, I can understand if you choose to shut up out of fear, and I can even leave without finishing this delicious beer."

"Enough, Francis and his henchman are real cowards!" The old white man let out an angry shout.

"I'm Harris, Lily, give this bastard something to eat, I want to hear what he has to say."

——

Half an hour later,

When Jiejie, who arrived in a hurry, pushed open the door of the bar with all her might, the scene in front of her made her dumbfounded.

Jack was in front of him with a mess of cups and plates, and his mouth was full of oil, and the chubby bartender aunt was smiling and refilling the glass in front of him with beer.

"Aha, she's here, this is Agent Jennifer Jean, she's the hero who really saved Angela Miller."

Jack's cheeks flushed, and he raised his glass to greet the gauze-clad Clean.

"To Lady Re!"

"To Lady Re!"

Everyone in the bar raised their glasses.

Jiejie looked confused, completely unable to understand what was going on here, and was stuffed with a full glass of beer in her hand.

——

"I don't really know who Francis's accomplice is, I've only seen him once, or in a telescope."

Harris Townsend was flushed with drink, and Jack leaned shoulder-to-shoulder, swearing.

"I went hunting with a couple of guys, and I happened to bump into the two beach boys, Francis's garbage had already been kicked out of the 'militia' by us, but we didn't expect him to be the murderer, we knew I was at the time"

Harris drained the rest of the beer in one go, slammed the thick beer glass on the table, and continued.

"The guy was in his early twenties, very thin, pale, and followed Francis like a fart, and kept his breath low."

"I'm sorry, I knew so much, but my guys and I will all go out and assist the sheriff in their search, and once I find that bastard, I'm going to"

"Anyway, thank you, and Lily, your lingonberry pie is really good." Jack shook Harris' hand, stuffed him with a business card, and gave him a veneer kiss to the bartender aunt named Lily.

(End of chapter)