The world of American TV series: Starting with the L.A. Patrol

The scene where the children were frightened made Jubal's expression strange when he was standing in front of the big screen. This is normal. It would be difficult for any normal father to maintain his expression when seeing this scene.

He lowered his head and quickly adjusted his emotions, and then, as before, he spoke loudly to the twenty or thirty analysts behind him without looking back.

"Okay, so what have we seen now? At least two gunmen, and the accent of the person who spoke sounded American. What else has been discovered? This video has been sent to everyone here, now start taking a closer look After repeated viewings, we need to get more clues from the details."

"The guy in front is very tall, at least six feet three inches or four inches (190-192 centimeters)." A technician from the IT logistics department used comparison software to calculate the height of the shooter who walked into the aisle in a moment.

"The white man, judging from his gun-holding posture, has at least received basic firearms training, and may have had experience in the military or police." Hannah also provided that although the kidnapper was wearing a hood, the skin around the eyes and mouth was still exposed. .

"Can you slow down the last few frames before the end of the scene, the moment when he reached out and grabbed the camera phone?" Jack's request was quickly implemented.

A technician tapped a few times on the keyboard, and a reverse playback appeared on the big screen, from the camera going completely black to a big hand with leather gloves slowly retracting.

Jack could clearly confirm his judgment at this time, "There is a section of the glove, and this guy's left little finger is missing."

This is a distinctive feature, but unfortunately it can only be used when doing elimination methods, and they don't even have a candidate list of suspects yet.

The girls and boys in the combat center continued to be busy, and the work that could be done in the field came to an end for the time being. Jack walked into the rest room, poured a cup of hot coffee for Hannah and himself, and gave Jubal, who was still standing in front of the screen, a cup of hot coffee. Brought a drink.

"Tracking surveillance, hoods, automatic rifles, etc. all show that this is a carefully planned operation." Jubal still looked worried.

"At least what bothers us now is the whereabouts of the 26 children, instead of facing 26 corpses to find traces of the murderer." Jack shrugged, as optimistic as ever.

Hannah punched him, thinking that this guy's words were too unpleasant, and then sighed, "I just hope that what we are waiting for is a notice demanding ransom instead of someone claiming to be responsible for this."

"It's better to be the former." Jubal also sighed. The former is kidnapping and extortion, and the latter is a terrorist attack. Compared with the latter, the children are much more likely to survive in the former.

"Jubal, there is something discovered here!" A female analyst shouted loudly, "The road monitoring results are there. There is indeed a green Chevrolet Cruze, which has been tracking the school bus for the past two days."

Jubal perked up and walked quickly to her desk while waving to the liaison desk, where liaison officers from the NYPD and other departments sat.

"Can you see the driver's face clearly? We need to prepare a co-investigation notice."

The female analyst quickly took a screenshot, used software to enhance the contrast, and shook her head regretfully, "The clarity is not enough, but the license plate is fine."

Then the information about the license plate holder popped up in the system, "Carl Stubbs, a New Yorker, with a pile of criminal records, including assault, burglary, and drug possession."

"Find him!" Jubal clenched his fists with excitement, "It's time for our NYPD friends to take action."

The NYPD responded to the notice of co-investigation very quickly. Regardless of the current honeymoon relationship between the two parties, this case has now shocked the entire state of New York. Turn on any TV channel and you can see the relevant news being rolled out.

40 minutes later, in front of a factory in the Bronx, six Suburbans with silent police lights flashing swarmed in. Jack and Hannah got out of the car and pulled out their Glock pistols. The SWAT team quickly dispersed behind them.

According to the information provided by the NYPD, Carl Stubbs was not at home. The patrol officers learned by asking the apartment manager that he had gone out early this morning, and the last place he was likely to appear was his workplace.

This is a used clothing factory, which is the kind of factory that sorts clothes of good quality and then uses industrial washing machines to clean them and repackage them for sale. Second-hand clothing is a quite mature industry in the United States.

The factory with huge space is also an excellent place to hide hostages, so the FBI directly sent two SWAT teams to follow Jack and Hannah.

However, the moment he rushed into the factory, Jack had a hunch that they might be disappointed this time, because what he and Hannah saw were not militants holding assault rifles, but several workers picking old clothes. The Carl Stubbs you are looking for is among them.

The two sides of the factory building were filled with old clothes and various mobile hangers. The suspect and several workers were busy at the workbench with their heads down. The two men wearing FBI blue jackets and heavily armed SWAT team members frightened the workers. Jumping, before the other party could react, Jack and Hannah pointed their guns at him, "Carl Stubbs! Put your hands up!"

Carl Stubbs was a thin, dry white man with messy hair and an unkempt beard. There were big copper coin scars from abscesses on his face and neck. He looked like a drug addict.

Suddenly seeing the police breaking in, this guy jumped up on the spot like a monkey and ran towards the depths of the factory without thinking, where a whole row of industrial washing machines was rumbling.

This guy didn't reveal his weapon, and Jack couldn't shoot. He could only sigh, and first grabbed Hannah, who was about to catch up. Then he smiled at a stunned female worker and took a stapler from her hand. Machine, "Sorry, let me borrow it."

Jack raised his arm and threw it hard, and the rather heavy stapler flew out in a rotation, hitting the crook of the leg of the guy in front of him who was running in an extremely ugly posture, and then there was a "plop" that was very painful to hear, and Carl... Stubbs slid all the way across the floor.

"My leg, you broke my leg, help! Help!" Hearing this guy let out a burst of howling, Hannah took out the handcuffs and stepped forward speechlessly. She also had a premonition that this guy had nothing to do with the kidnapping case. Big.

"All ten of his fingers are there." Hannah stepped on the guy's back, cuffed him and pulled him up from the floor. Then she picked up an old T-shirt from the floor with disgust. Wiping her hands, this disgusting guy almost made her misogyny come back again.

"Of course my fingers are fine, but I think my toes may be broken. What the hell is going on?" Carl Stubbs's mood changed from the panic at the beginning when two assault rifles from the SWAT team were pressed against his head. It turned into a complaint, and it was clear that he didn't feel he deserved such near-terrorist treatment.

"Stop talking nonsense." Jack grabbed him by the back collar and carried him out of the factory first. The SWAT team members also searched the factory. The team leader came to Jack and shook his head slightly, indicating that they found nothing.

But the question still had to be asked. Jack looked into this guy's eyes and said, "Where are the children, Carl?"

"What kid?" Carl Stubbs' confused look didn't look like he was pretending.

"Twenty-six children kidnapped from the school bus." Hannah added.

"I have no idea what you are talking about!" Carl Stubbs suddenly raised his voice by 8 degrees.

"Your Chevrolet Cruze was found to have followed a school bus that had an accident two days ago." Jack explained with a somewhat helpless expression. Judging from this guy's dejected look, he probably already guessed what was going on.

"Oh, my baby, the bank took it away last week. Can't you see what I'm like now? I'm bankrupt! I can only earn some hard money in this shabby place."

Jack interrupted this guy's rambling complaints and went straight to the point. Although he knew that this guy didn't seem to be lying, he still needed to confirm the information that should be confirmed.

"Where were you around 7:40 today?"

"It's right here, man. I punched in at the door at 6:58 and I haven't left the factory. Everyone here can vouch for me."

Carl Stubbs's expression became more and more exaggerated, and he spoke more and more, and he poured out all kinds of complaints, like an aggregation of negative emotions.

It is no easier to ask a talkative person than a taciturn person. After filtering out a bunch of junk messages, Jack shook his buzzing head vigorously, waved his hand and asked the NYPD police officer who had just arrived to take this guy away. take away.

"The car was taken away by the so-called bank debt collector. I'm guessing that if the other party is an imposter and he said that there was almost no gas in the gas tank and he couldn't drive too far, then we only need to stop at the gas station near his home. Check it out.”

Jack quickly swiped his fingers on the phone screen, then quickly circled a place and showed it to Hannah, "Luckily, there is only a gas station nearby."

Hannah breathed a sigh of relief. She was also seriously hurt by the guy's trash talk attack. "Let's go to the gas station to check the surveillance and get some food to fill our stomach."

Half an hour later, the two appeared in a gas station. There was no pretentious plot. Seeing the FBI ID, the gas station owner cooperated and pulled up the surveillance video from last week.