Legendary FBI Detective

In Southern Las Vegas, an eight-seater MPV was slowly driving south along the main road.

In the distant hospital, Reesi, wrapped in bandages, lay on the hospital bed while Mona sat beside the bed, tapping on the keyboard to investigate the surveillance footage.

Michelle had just gone to retrieve the second tracking device from Reesi's residence of the past few days and was currently on her way back to the hospital.

Reesi's mental state was still okay; she asked Mona to help adjust the pillow to find a more comfortable position and then began to briefly share her findings from the tracking of the past days on her phone.

"Luo An, I suspect there's something wrong with the amount of money reported stolen in the bank robbery."

Reesi slightly shook her head and hummed as she said:

"The bank reported that they were robbed of approximately 3.5 million US Dollars in cash.

As for those stolen metal safes, about two-thirds of the owners did not come forward after the incident, so the bank had no idea about the value of their contents, ultimately only providing an estimated value of 3 million US Dollars."

"I know."

It was Winslow driving, and Luo An, holding his phone, nodded slightly in the back seat of the MPV.

The owners of those two-thirds of the metal safes, well aware that their goods had been stolen, yet not daring to report their losses, suggested only one possibility: those items were all illicit.

As the anesthesia wore off, the pain in her head made Reesi hum softly, and she continued:

"If we go by the bank's reported figures, they were robbed of around 6 million US Dollars in total, which means each of the six robbers would have taken about 1 million US Dollars each.

I've carefully calculated Ke Green's expenses over these few days; he lost nearly 500,000 US Dollars in the casino alone, plus staying at luxury hotels, finding different women every night, renting luxury sports cars—all these expenses combined have already exceeded 700,000 US Dollars..."

"But before Ke Green was kidnapped, he was still in a calm and unhurried state, indicating that the loss of 700,000 US Dollars had not yet hurt him financially."

Luo An narrowed his eyes slightly, following Reesi's analysis to continue:

"That means that the stolen 3.5 million US Dollars in cash was just a small part of the robbers' haul; the larger part was from the contents of the metal safes that nobody reported."

As Luo An's words fell, Chenier beside him shifted her gaze slightly and proposed her hypothesis:

"The three people who kidnapped Ke Green, could they be the owners of those metal safes?

They lost a big sum of illicit money, so they began to investigate the bank robbers privately and eventually found the somewhat ostentatious Ke Green."

"There's indeed that possibility, but..."

Luo An was silent for a moment before nodding and then slowly shaking his head.

In 1971, in London, the capital of the United Kingdom which almost lost Northern Ireland and barely held together Great Britain, there was a bank robbery that shocked the entire nation:

A group of robbers dug a tunnel to break into the bank's vault and stole a large amount of cash and jewelry.

The same bank vault also concealed a trove of scandalous secrets, such as royal sex scandals, murders, and corrupt political dealings.

After this incident, many members of the upper echelons of society in various countries stopped using banks to store their scandalous materials and instead spent a high price on their own insurance safes to hide them.

This story was later adapted into a film that was released in many Western countries, with a balding diver playing the protagonist.

"Wait a minute."

Luo An's eyes flickered, suddenly recalling the release time of that film, which appeared to coincide with the year the Olympics were held in a country in the East—2008.

Currently, it is 2006, the film probably hadn't even been greenlit yet.

The federal nouveau riche and the middle and lower classes are largely unaware of that decades-old bank heist, so it's possible that they still keep some scandalous items in the bank's metal safes.

At the thought, Luo An's brows furrowed deeply; could the reason for Ke Green's kidnapping indeed be this scenario?

While Luo An was pondering the clues, an excited voice from Mona suddenly came through the phone:

"Luo An, Michelle has retrieved the tracking device!"

"Excellent!"

Luo An set aside the speculations in his mind and asked:

"Where is the location?"

"Wait a second."

Mona began to operate the monitor on the other end of the phone, and after a dozen seconds, she replied loudly:

"It's in Clark County, Southern Las Vegas! It will take you about twenty minutes to drive there!"

"Then it will take ten minutes."

Upon hearing this, Luo An smirked, patted Winslow on the shoulder to signal a switch to him driving, and meanwhile said to Mona:

"Contact the SWAT team and tell them to hurry to the location and cordon off the area!"

"Understood!"

Mona responded loudly over the phone, and Luo An took the driver's seat, floored the gas pedal, and the eight-seater MPV charged forward like a fierce tiger.

Clark County is located in the southeastern part of Las Vegas City. Functionally, it is a satellite city of Las Vegas.

It mainly provides housing with lower rent for those working in Las Vegas but unable to afford the high rent there.

Eleven minutes later, the MPV smoothly arrived at the area indicated by the locator. It was an outer suburb of Clark County, dotted with abandoned factories and a gathering place for a small number of homeless people.

The MPV parked by the roadside, and several homeless people in the distance immediately cast various kinds of looks.

As Luo An and two others stepped out of the vehicle, seeing that they were carrying rifles, with pistols fastened at their waists, and wearing bulletproof vests with the letters FBI on them, the restless homeless people's eyes instantly regained innocence, and many turned and left swiftly with a face that said "I'm just passing by."

Luo An cast a glance at these homeless people and hurried to the abandoned building where the locator was with Winslow and Chenier.

The three, armed with weapons and following Mona's guidance, cautiously ascended the staircase and soon arrived at the third floor where the locator was.

Luo An's nose twitched, smelling a strong scent of blood. He frowned.

He gestured with a hand motion for Winslow and Chenier to flank from the sides. After counting down two numbers, the three burst into the room where the locator was.

It was a very large room that appeared to have been an area for company employees to work in.

Now the area was empty, tables, chairs, and benches had long been taken by the homeless, and the only things left in the vast space were dust and several discarded planks.

In the center of the room lay a breathless person, with a bruised face, four fingers on the left hand chopped off, the left leg smashed beyond recognition by an object like a hammer, the right arm severed from the middle with the limb thrown far away, an X-shaped knife wound deep enough to see the bone on the chest, and a large pool of crimson blood underneath.

"Fu-k!"

Upon recognizing that the dead man was Ke Green, Winslow muttered under his breath, and Chenier looked pale:

"It seems that the three kidnappers have most likely gotten the information they wanted."

The scene at the site made it clear that Ke Green had undergone brutal torture before his death. Without professional training, he was more than ninety-five percent likely to have divulged the information the assailants wanted to know.

Luo An's expression unchanged, he bent down and carefully examined the bloodstains on the ground for a few seconds, then stood up and said:

"The blood hasn't coagulated for long, those people must have left less than 20 minutes ago."

Blood clots form within 5-12 minutes.

Winslow and Chenier also knew this and were about to speak when Luo An suddenly frowned, his nose twitching slightly. He then abruptly hoisted his rifle and headed towards another staircase nearby.

Winslow and Chenier, puzzled but quick to follow, raised their weapons and followed closely behind.

The three stepped over the severed limb and rushed to another staircase, and looking down from the stairwell, they saw that the floor was full of traces of a struggle.

Midway between the third and second floors, a muscular, bald white man sat leaning against the wall, with a deep wound on the major artery of his neck, his blood drenching his clothes and the surrounding floor, eyes wide open, staring dead ahead.