On this day, Los Angeles was destined to be a mess.
In the night that had just passed!
The evidence room of the FBI Los Angeles Field Office was robbed; someone had actually broken into the FBI's Los Angeles Field Office.
They had even secretly placed a powerful bomb inside the evidence room.
The explosion ultimately destroyed everything. Not only was a lot of evidence related to Stanfield destroyed in that explosion,
but also the evidence collected from many previous cases was completely blown up in that massive blast.
Although the FBI didn't suffer any casualties, the loss was undeniably heavy.
However, before the mid-to-high-level FBI officials who received the notification could even find out who did it,
more bad news arrived quickly.
Several FBI agents were sniped and killed with a sniper rifle while they were sleeping at home last night.
The Los Angeles Police Department, which was responsible for the investigation, voluntarily transferred the jurisdiction of the case to the FBI after confirming that the sniped victims were FBI agents.
Whether the other party was doing it to watch the show or because they truly sensed that the case was very troublesome,
in short, the FBI now had a real headache.
Things also felt terrible over at the Drug Enforcement Bureau.
Just last night, the Director of the Los Angeles Narcotics Bureau was attacked at home and killed instantly by a gunshot to the head.
However, his wife, who was sleeping in the same bed, and his two children living in the next room, were all unharmed.
Another person who died in the Drug Enforcement Bureau last night was a Detective Inspector.
But that one was also shot and killed with a sniper rifle.
It was again the Los Angeles Police Department that rushed to handle it after receiving the emergency call.
Although they notified the Drug Enforcement Bureau about the case, because it involved loss of life, the Drug Enforcement Bureau could only send people to participate in the investigation and had no investigative authority.
Although the FBI and the Drug Enforcement Bureau both had major Shooting cases with casualties on the same night,
compared to a Los Angeles government official and a city councilor being shot and killed on the same night,
the latter was undoubtedly much more troublesome.
The entire Los Angeles Police Department had fallen into complete chaos.
Countless detectives and police officers were dispatched, using every connection to find possible clues.
At this time, Stanfield was also in a state of panic.
He learned about the attack on the Los Angeles Narcotics Bureau Director and a Detective Inspector last night shortly after he went to the Drug Enforcement Bureau in the morning.
Because, from an unknown source, rumors had started to spread.
Quite a few people actually began to suspect that he was the one who hired someone to get rid of the Los Angeles Narcotics Bureau Director, who had previously tried to investigate him.
Even though that Detective Inspector had also accepted black money bribes from Stanfield,
his death only fueled the suspicions about Stanfield within the Drug Enforcement Bureau.
Some suspected that the Detective Inspector might have wanted to report Stanfield to the Director and was subsequently murdered by him.
It might be because Stanfield had spent the past decade or so extensively bribing and corrupting mid-to-high-level officials within the Drug Enforcement Bureau, which had aroused too much suspicion and dissatisfaction.
These rumors, appearing from nowhere, began to escalate with uncontrollable momentum.
So much so that while Stanfield was at the Drug Enforcement Bureau wondering who had made a move on the Director and that Detective Inspector,
his cell phone and another number known only to a few people were constantly receiving calls from different places and different people.
Amidst the waves of accusations and questioning, Stanfield quickly realized that he might be finished.
Last night, he had paid a significant price to have someone infiltrate the FBI Los Angeles Field Office and blow up the evidence room where the evidence was stored.
Against the FBI, even Stanfield didn't have many ways to cope.
However, he felt that even if the FBI had already started investigating him,
it wouldn't be easy to gather enough evidence in a short period of time.
Stanfield had actually suspected that the person who broke into his home the day before
and took away most of the black money he had earned over more than a decade of selling drugs under the guise of the Drug Enforcement Bureau in a short time was very likely the FBI.
But there were too many inexplicable details, and the surveillance footage seemed to show only one intruder.
So to this day, Stanfield still couldn't figure it out.
How the man had slipped past the cameras and made the fortune—enough to fill half an underground bunker—simply vanish.
Yesterday Stanfield even began to suspect
that somewhere beneath his villa, in the bunker he thought he knew, there was a hidden space he'd never found.
The intruder must have discovered it and stashed every dirty cent he'd earned there.
But last night, after hours of careful searching, he came up empty.
For a moment Stanfield was at a complete loss.
Unable to decide who had stolen the drug money he'd amassed over the past dozen years,
or the records of narcotics deals and bribes that could keep him locked away for centuries.
He doubted it was the FBI;
if it had been, he'd probably already be in their custody.
Yet with the deaths inside the Drug Enforcement Bureau—the chief and a Detective Inspector—
one gunned down at home, the other sniped the same night—
Stanfield felt the danger closing in on him.
So, after the deputy director called him in for a veiled warning and interrogation,
Stanfield left the Bureau at once, packed a few clothes at home, grabbed the cash he'd kept hidden,
and took out a forged passport, ready to run.
A little after four in the afternoon, Hunter—who had spent the entire day tangled up with Tali in the bedroom—
lay half-lidded, enjoying the alternative service the exhausted girl was providing,
while he tallied the gains of the past few days in his mind.
That afternoon, before Tali woke, he had gone through everything he'd lifted from Stanfield again.
The standard-issue DEA weapons and gear couldn't be priced.
The liquor he couldn't be bothered to appraise—two million us dollars at most.
As for the gold coins, bars, jewelry, and luxury watches, his best guess was about twelve million us dollars.
Each of the fifteen duffels was jammed tight with hundred-us dollar bills.
Every bag held three million us dollars; the cash alone totaled forty-five million us dollars.
Of course, the real prize was the bearer bonds.
Hunter had to admit that this crooked cop from the Los Angeles Narcotics Bureau had raked in a staggering fortune over a decade of drug dealing.
The bearer bonds were worth more than four hundred million us dollars.
Cash them out and he'd leap straight into the ranks of the super-rich.
Naturally, he'd have to be out of his mind
to risk drawing the attention of the IRS and FBI by cashing all those bonds and flaunting the lifestyle of a tycoon.
He half-closed his eyes and gave a contented hum.
Hunter patted Tali's head gently, urging her on.
He summoned the system's attribute wall that only he could see.
His gaze swept across the skills listed on the wall!
He already knew exactly what he would do in the days ahead…
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