No matter how much Austin Stevens pleaded, Lacroix remained silent until the guy finally broke down and poured out everything that should have been said and should not have been said.

Jack had also participated in many interrogations, and many of them had been killed in person, and such a soft bone was rare, and Lacroix did not ask a single question, and Mr. Director told him everything he knew.

He really didn't know who the Kanes were planning to attack, but he did know the time, because Tiger Kane had told him a week earlier that there was going to be a big event tomorrow morning and reminded him to pay attention to the TV news.

It's just that their previous contact information was also an anonymous mobile phone, and they agreed not to contact each other for the time being before the kidnapping, and everything was according to the previously agreed plan.

Jack asked the technician to check the phone number he provided, but unfortunately this time it was not good luck, and the phone was obviously discarded.

It was destined to be another sleepless night, all the clues were broken, and it was not easy to find a few of its own citizens on the east coast with well-developed road traffic.

Jubal has sent photos of the Ford Raptor F150 to police departments in New York State and several nearby states, including Washington, D.C.

Just when everyone gathered together to find out what was missing, trying to diverge their minds and see if there were any other ways to find the traces of this group, Lacroix suddenly turned on his mobile phone to everyone with a solemn face, "I received an anonymous text message. ”

——

"Your little mongrel is now in our control, she can be deported at any time, and if you still want to see her, you and your boss Dana Moge need to hold a press conference in the next 6 hours.

You, Agent Jace Lacroix, are to read our manifesto aloud at the press conference yourself, or your little mongrel will be locked up in the ghetto of Guatemala and entertained by 'MS-13'. ”

Lacroix finished reading the passage in a mocking tone, first at Dana Moge, who had an equally subtle expression, and then at Jack with a grateful expression.

I have to say that although the radical organization created by Kane and his wife has a bit of a grass stage team, the hand they made is really amazing.

The F.B.I. has always been known for its toughness and uncompromising stance on hostage matters, but what if the hostages are relatives of the bureau's own agents?

Jack didn't know if something like this had happened before, and he was secretly glad that they had found little Tully in time, and there were two text messages, the second of which was the manifesto that Emma Kane asked Lacroix to read.

He had just read it, and the manifesto was full of all kinds of extreme racist remarks, and it was absolutely impossible for the F.B.I. to allow a single agent of its own to read it openly on television, even if it was just a stopgap measure.

The world is so absurd that politicians can talk nonsense on TV under the guise of freedom of speech, but ordinary people have to be cautious about what they say and do.

Because you don't know when you're going to be insulted or even accused by someone for using the wrong word, just because you call an unknown creature with two lumps of flesh on its chest and a lump between its legs as "she" or "he".

Fortunately, they don't really have to face this dilemma now, but instead these two anonymous text messages reveal the approximate location of Emma Kane and her accomplices.

Although the anonymous phone used to send messages was quickly turned off and discarded, the tech nerds at the Operations Center were able to locate the last location of the phone before it was turned off, in Ulstershire, more than 90 miles north of New York City.

Local county and state police officers who were notified by the F.B.I. immediately went out to block all traffic arteries leaving the county, while analysts frowned and drank black coffee while staring at bloodshot eyes as they sifted through potential targets in the area.

Jack went back to his office for a nap, and when he opened his eyes again, the floor-to-ceiling glass window was already white, and the bustling metropolis under his feet was about to usher in a new day.

He walked into the bathroom and washed his face with cold water, and just as he was gurgling with a mouthwash, Hannah suddenly broke in and scared him so much that he almost swallowed it directly.

"The Ulster County Police have just spotted a car that matches the description of the Raptor F150 that Joey Carter is wanted, and they are fearing that there is a bomb in the car and have not taken immediate action and are now calling for help."

Jack breathed a sigh of relief, and then lowered his head to spit out the mouthwash, and for a moment he thought that Britney was no longer satisfied with playing in the parking lot when he was in Los Angeles, and was planning to unlock some new achievements.

Two large gun boxes were taken out of the armory, one on each of Jack and Hannah's backs, and hurried up to the rooftop, where a helicopter belonging to the air support team was already waiting.

The case contained an M82A1 with .50 caliber bullets, which Jack had brought with BAU, and a G28E precision marksman rifle, the former for vehicles and explosives, and the G28E for people.

According to the news from the front, there is only one driver in the F150, who seems to be Joey Carter himself, and no other passengers have been found.

The FBI-SWAT team, which had been deployed in advance, planned to use police armored vehicles to block the road after he drove away from the residential area, but they were afraid of the 400-pound semtin plastic explosives that might be loaded on the opposing vehicle, and they still wanted to have a more secure plan because they didn't want to see a mushroom cloud.

The safest plan is naturally to directly use the anti-materiel sniper rifle to stop the car directly, considering that the other party is using remote control detonation, Jack also brought a few wireless signal jammers that have just been sent from the CSI laboratory.

It took just over half an hour for the helicopter to transport the two men to Ulstershire, more than 100 kilometers away, and two SWAT squad police armored vehicles had been parked on either side of a T-junction and set up ambush points.

The intercom was heard by the county and state sheriffs, and Joey Carter seemed to sense that something was wrong and was trying to flee quickly.

The two county police cars had already overtaken the plainclothes police cars and sounded their sirens, and they were followed by a long line of various police cars from the state police, ranging from Dodge warhorses to the old crown.

The long string of more than 20 police cars with shrill sirens and flashing police lights pierced the early morning mist, and the scene was so spectacular that any criminal would be frightened to flee when he saw this scene.

The police's goal had been achieved by this time, as there was only one road in front of him, either take Interstate 209 into the ambush or abandon the car and flee.

Joy Carter was naturally unwilling to be shackled, slammed on the accelerator all the way and accelerated desperately, even if he entered the corner, he only lightly braked, and his car did not disappoint him, very silky rubbing the railing to grind out a spark, and driving on the interstate without danger.

Then the next second, sharp brakes suddenly sounded, and Joey Carter's pupils suddenly dilated as he gazed ahead, and an armored car was parked sideways in the middle of the road, with several black Saab classes parked head-to-head on both lanes.

What shocked him even more was that on the hood of the armored car, a man in a trench coat was holding a Barrett facing him, and on the roof of the armored car was a woman lying on her stomach, also holding a sniper rifle.

As for the SWAT team members who are armed with assault rifles and rely on the front cover of the Saab bus, it seems that there is no problem to pay attention to.

"Bang!"

"Bang!"

Almost just as Joey Carter stepped on the brakes and gritted his teeth to hang up the reverse gear to break through, two gunshots rang out at the same time almost in equal order, one dull and powerful, and the other crisp and pleasant.

A puff of white smoke came out of the front engine of the Raptor F150, and Joey Carter in the driver's seat had a bloody hole in his eyebrows.

(End of chapter)