"Ms. Bowman?"

Hank asked, "What are the characteristics, or clues worth following up?" ”

"How do I know?"

Teisel shook his head and waved his hand: "Just listening to him say this, it may be Hector's master, maybe it will help you." ”

I can't even figure out the first name or the first name, and there is a fart to help.

Or maybe it's just a nickname.

Ethan pouted, and a flash flashed through his mind.

However, the thought was instantly pressed by him.

There was a good chance that the old man was far away in Pennsylvania, and with her previous situation, it would be good to survive.

And it's a Salvadoran, it's unlikely.

It's not that I haven't thought about helping her.

It was very easy for her to find a job at the Chino Casino, but there was no one to live or die at the time.

Ethan sighed secretly and turned to leave.

As the car drove outside, through the rearview mirror, Teisel's blue hat could be seen still rocking back and forth.

"Well, would you be interested in wandering around his territory?"

Hank's voice rang out over the intercom.

"No problem." Ethan spun the wheel and followed Hank to Teisel's turf.

Not only that, but I also walked around a few neighborhoods.

Sure enough, something was very wrong, when driving, the old black in the streets and alleys all cast unkind eyes.

It wasn't until he saw that it was a white man inside that he withdrew his gaze.

Salvadorans are mostly of mixed Indian and Spanish descent, and most of them have tattoos on their bodies and faces, which are their distinctive marks and are also very recognizable.

Ethan and Hank, both clearly not.

Sensing the tension, Ethan furrowed his eyebrows.

No kidding, if it were an ordinary Salvadoran, he would most likely be greeted by a few bullets flying from nowhere.

Ethan also knows why Salvadorans are eyeing a few neighborhoods around here.

The traffic is too convenient and extends in all directions.

If you want to buy something interesting, you can easily find the sales point of all kinds of drugs as soon as the steering wheel turns.

And these slum neighborhoods are a mix of black, white, and brown.

There are all kinds of people, and they Salvadorans operate here, and they are not too conspicuous.

They wouldn't want to do anything in a black neighborhood like that.

For the dealers, this is the gold market, and ambitious people can radiate here and expand the entire Midwest market.

It's no wonder that a few small blocks are home to several gangs.

The streets are still old blacks selling pills, and at the end of the street, a few Latinas are shrinking their heads and selling fans.

"Let's go back!"

The walkie-talkie rang, and Hank's Range Rover sped away.

It's enough to sense that something isn't right here.

Ethan followed his movements, slamming the throttle with his big foot, having just driven a Ferrari Rafa, and now driving a Ford Interceptor always feels a little uncomfortable.

The speed is not fast enough, and the acceleration is also fleshy.

When he returned to the police station, he breathed a sigh of relief and went out to hang out for almost two hours, and the flamboyant policewomen finally left.

He really didn't dare to touch these people, and he didn't dare to play friendly matches.

Maybe when doing sports, these women will secretly poke and poke a hole in the sleeve to come out, directly help themselves to spread the branches and leaves, and gamble for the rest of their lives without worrying about food and clothing.

"Alright."

Hank walked briskly to the Chase Room and clapped his hands vigorously, "Now, put down the matter at hand." ”

"Now there are more urgent things waiting for us to do."

In the eyes of everyone, he pulled the whiteboard open: "Hector, Salvadoran, with a tattoo on his neck and a scar on the back of his head. ”

With a swing of a pen, write your name and physical features in the middle of the whiteboard.

With a wave of his arm, he drew an arrow upwards and wrote Bowman, a suspected woman.

"What we need to do now is to find these two people." Hank looked around and said in a deep voice, "I just received a message from an informant, a Savardor who wants to enter the arena and grab control of a few blocks. ”

"They want to steal business, and it's going to create a lot of chaos and conflict."

He looked at Olinsky again, squinted his eyes and said:

"What happened the last time Salvadorans came, I think you remember it, right?"

"Of course."

Olinsky bit the twisted candy and sighed:

"Blood, blood, blood."

"Until now, the neighborhood where those people are located is the most chaotic."

"At night, even the patrol officers don't want to go there for duty."

His words cheered up several people present, and Horstead pointed to the whiteboard with a ballpoint pen and frowned: "Do we only have such a little information?" ”

Hank also knows that things are difficult, mainly because there is too little information.

"That's right."

He patted the whiteboard and drew a circle on Hector's name: "Let's start with him, the criminal information database, the border checkpoint, the entry and exit database, one by one." ”

"Tell Jean to do a search program, and you guys will follow along."

"Ahem!"

Ethan blocked his mouth with his fist, coughed dryly, and returned to his seat.

"Do it yourself, compare according to your physical characteristics." Hank reacted to Ethan's reminder and waved his hand curtly, "We're going to find this Hector before he kills." ”

"According to the intelligence provided by the informant, Hector has already started to get started."

"Get him out of Chicago as soon as possible, and we're going to get him out of Chicago, which is our city."

Hank never mentioned that Hector had killed four people, and it was useless to mention it, and according to Teisel, the scene of the crime had already destroyed them.

Now all that can be said is to find out Hector's detailed information, Ethan also opened the database and began to search.

Hopefully, Hector isn't a nickname, that will make the search a notch more difficult.

Hank and Olinsky also called the informant one after another to see if there were any other channels to get some clues.

It's been a busy few hours, and I've finally made some discoveries.

"Hector Morales."

Ethan looked at the crime database, snapped his fingers, and shouted, "If I'm not mistaken, it should be him." ”

"I'll take a look."

Rusek quickly turned around and leaned in front of the computer screen.

Above are several prison photos, looking thin and small, with a goatee, tattoos on the neck, and a string of Latin letters tattooed above the eyebrows of the two eyes.

In the side photo, it can be seen that the hair on the back of his head is open.

Whether it is a scar or not, I can't confirm it.

He has short black curly hair and cold eyes.

Thank you for your support, thank you!

(End of chapter)