The daily life of American TV agents

Chapter 438 Interesting new opponent
Ron was about to step forward, ready to torture who was the mastermind behind him, but the man took out something and stuffed it into his mouth. By the time Ron rushed to him, he had already collapsed foaming.

"FXXK! Suicide by taking poison, and our clues are broken again." Ron said angrily, if he knew, he should have injured both his hands just now.

"I'm starting to wonder now, who exactly have you provoked these times? Have you cleaned up all the communication tools such as mobile phones?" Ron turned his head and asked.

The cell phone that Ron was talking to Finch had been thrown out of the window by the time Finch realized something was wrong. The cell phone that Peggy gave him had never made a call to anyone other than the one-line contact with Peggy. It has never been logged on, and there is no possibility of being invaded.

So the question is, how did this killer find here?

"All the mobile phones and computers are new now, and I haven't called anyone yet." Finch showed Ron his communication device in doubt.

There is nothing wrong with Finch and Reese's things, and it is even less likely that Ron himself has problems. To borrow the words that Sherlock often said: "Exclude all the impossible, and the rest, no matter how unbelievable, is the truth."

If neither Ron nor Finch had any problems, then the only problem was... The three of them turned their attention to Powell who was not sleeping soundly, and even a ridiculous thought came to everyone's minds.

This man who looks like a victim is not pretending to be a pig and eating a tiger, is he?

Thinking of this, Ron slapped Powell's swollen head like a pig's head twice, but there was still no response, not even the conditioned muscle tightening.

This should not be faked, Ron shook his head at the two of them, and the clue was broken again.

"Wait, is it possible that the FBI or someone who wanted to kill him installed a tracker on him while he was in the police station? You all know that the LAPD has been infiltrated like a sieve."

Riise raised another possibility, and Ron touched the sleeping old man again.

The pockets of the clothes are all empty, and all their belongings should have been taken away when they were caught. The belt buckle is made of a whole piece of metal. Judging from the shape, there is no possibility of hiding the tracker. If these places If there is no tracker, there are only two places left to put the tracker.

Ron and Riise's faces darkened at the same time, and Ron said before Riise could speak: "I'll check his shoes now, if you still can't find the tracker, you can check his intestines, over there There are rubber gloves and lube in the drawer."

Reese had no choice but to nod with a dark face, but fortunately, Ron just checked the first shoe and found a small tracking device shining on the sole.

"You're lucky, now you don't need to do an anorectal examination for him."

"What are you going to do now?"

"First of all, I will take this out for a walk, make a false appearance that I didn't find it, and then find a place to attract the killer, but this time I will be careful and take his jaw off before he commits suicide. "

"What about us?" Finch asked quickly.

"You just need to be responsible for sending him back to the police station after he wakes up."

Ron pointed at Powell, and Finch was a little confused, so he asked worriedly, "Why should he be sent back? What if the killer attacks him again?"

"Impossible, where is the killer?" Ron raised the tracker.

Judging from the traces of the tracker, the tracker had been installed on the shoes for at least two days, which meant that the man behind the scenes had installed it in advance, and he had no influence in the police station.

It is safest for Powell to return to the police station now.

As for the next killer to come~ Ron looked at the tracker in his hand and had a bold idea in his heart.

……

On Fifth Avenue, the second killer who followed the signal clutched his mobile phone and walked into an alley and stopped. The expression of seeing a ghost.

"Boss, I followed the signal of the tracker to a dead end, but the tracker is still moving forward. Is it broken?"

"Impossible, this tracker is the best one on the market, absolutely impossible to break!" The electronically synthesized voice rang in the killer's ears. Although the electronic sound was very heavy, it was faintly recognizable as a woman.

"Is it possible that they found the tracker?"

"It's not impossible, but the probability is not high. Let me look at the tracker's line again... Wait, this line coincides with the sewer line in Los Angeles! They are not above the ground, they are underground!" Electronic synthesis The female voice said excitedly: "Go down now and continue tracking, he must be inside!"

The killer lifted a sewer cover, and the smell of excrement mixed with all kinds of filth came to his face, and he almost vomited directly.

This TM is actually a dedicated pipe for excrement!
"Boss, can I track them in another way? For example, continue tracking on the ground and kill him when he comes out. He can't stay in the sewer all the time, he will definitely come out. This is not New York, and he is not a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle."

"However, there are several dead ends in the middle of the sewer line. If he comes out behind one of the dead ends, you must not be able to keep up with him. Quick, I want you to go down now, otherwise, I will send the next person to start immediately, but I Guaranteed, the next person will not only kill him, but also kill your daughter, think about your daughter, do you want her to die in front of you?"

The other party mercilessly threatened in the headset, and the killer could only hold back his nausea and jumped in, holding his nose, and continued to walk along the trajectory of the tracker in the waist-high feces.

"Hahaha, to be honest, if it wasn't for the rivalry, I would feel a little sympathetic to him now." Ron laughed until tears came out, while laughing, he patted his thigh, and it was Finch's thigh.

"Hiss..." Finch gasped in pain, "Slightly, lightly, pat your own leg, okay? When are you going to make a move?"

"Don't worry, let's play again." Ron continued to manipulate the remote control, directing the remote control boat in the sewer to sail: "Do you know where the end of this sewer is?"

Finch shook his head: "I don't know."

"It's a septic tank, Mr. Finch." Ron laughed. "What do you think of us letting this lovely Mr. Killer take a bath in the septic tank?"

With that said, the remote control boat turned at the fork and headed towards the septic tank.

Ron took the remote control and moved to the co-pilot's seat: "You drive, we will meet Mr. Killer at the septic tank."

(End of this chapter)