Mysterious Hunting Ground

Chapter 36 36. The Second Meeting

Eight in the morning.

Lazy morning light streaming through the windows.

After a soft knock on the door.

A row of big men in black police uniforms with shiny LVPD badges poured into Dean's ward, completely surrounding the bed.

"Good morning Dean, I'm LVPD Director Laurel Howard..."

The old man surrounded by the crowd is in his fifties, with a thin body, gray temples, thick dark circles on his face, deep nasolabial folds, and traces of time.

But from the straight nose bridge and the deep eyes, you can vaguely see the heroic appearance when you were young.

He firmly held Dean's hand with his gentle palm, and his voice was full of anger and a hint of guilt,
"Sorry we're late, are you feeling better?"

"I'm fine." Dean turned his eyes, and the COPs who came in all had friendly and enthusiastic smiles on their faces. "The wound has been bandaged, and the doctor said it will heal after a few days of rest."

Dean glanced to the back of the COP, and was surprised to see a special acquaintance, a dark blue suit, elegant temperament, carrying a black briefcase, and a handsome FBI agent, Holden Ford.

"God bless."

The director paused, took a deep breath, and said in a sad tone,
"Dean, on behalf of the entire LVPD, I sincerely apologize to you. Regarding the unexpected incident on the anniversary, we made a mistake in reviewing...management was too loose...slow response...caused..."

"Regarding this vicious incident, LVPD will definitely give you a satisfactory explanation and compensation. Please rest at ease and recuperate. If you have any needs in life, please contact the police officer Spears stationed at the hospital."

The police officer with a mustache next to the chief smiled slightly at Dean,
"Rest now, young man, and I wish you a speedy recovery." The director patted Dean on the shoulder respectfully, "See you in a few days."

He left with a group of people.

But there was an unwelcome person who stayed.

"Meet you again, remember me?"

Holden sat on the accompanying chair beside the hospital bed very familiarly, grinning,
"The FBI likes to assume and threaten people." Dean shook his head helplessly and rubbed his eyes.

Affected by the improvement of his spirit, he was too excited last night. Even though he was exhausted after extreme training, he still suffered from rare insomnia.

"It seems that we have a deep misunderstanding, but don't be nervous, I have ruled out your uncle's suspicion of killing Bob." Holden gave him a thumbs up, "Now I only express to you as an ordinary citizen Thank you, and by the way, I will ask you a few questions on behalf of the bureau."

Dean calmly took an orange from the bedside table, peeled it, chewed the sweet and sour orange and asked,
"I also have a question for you. Is the situation serious this time? How many people died?"

Holden thought for a while, and said with an ugly face,
"According to preliminary statistics, the death toll is 35 people, including your dear principal, Mr. Ulysses, who was also killed. More than 40 people were injured, and the two nearby hospitals were crowded."

"The impact of this attack was extremely dire and there hasn't been a shooting of this magnitude in Las Vegas in 20 years."

Holden's voice changed, and he looked at Dean with unabashed admiration.

"But amid the vicious incidents, there are also brilliance of humanity."

"Because of your bravery, the school, LVPD, and the city government have prepared to present you with a bonus and a medal of honor in public on the day of the memorial service for the victims."

Dean chewed in his mouth.

He didn't want to become a public figure out of nowhere.

Someone had to share the attention, so said,
"Can't I win the award alone? What about the other warriors?"

"Who are you referring to? Your classmate?" Holden looked surprised, a little puzzled,

"Six people who subdued the shooter with me, including my dear principal Ulysses... They were not as lucky as me. They were shot." Dean stared into his eyes and said seriously,

But unfortunately,

said Dean.

Six warriors have died - the dead cannot expose his perjury.

"and many more!"

Holden frowned suddenly, put his finger in front of his lips, and made a silent gesture,
"This is very different from the actual situation I understand. According to the surviving black Wazel, from the beginning to the end, you are the only one who is fighting the gunman."

With an extremely ridiculous expression on Dean's face, he repeated what he said to Ruster and his party last night.

Be more proficient this time.

"Watzel, a black man, you know, he is probably crazy about Bruce Lee's "Enter the Dragon", so he had the illusion that all Chinese are 'kung fu masters' from Shaolin Temple, but he was wrong."

"Without the assistance of those six, I would not have been able to knock down the shooter, and they took the greatest risk, so they are more worthy of praise than me!"

Holden clasped his fingers, held his chin, and looked at Dean with piercing eyes.

"are you serious?"

"Don't believe me? Then tell me, how can I kill three retired soldiers with AKs alone to complete this incredible challenge?"

Holden said nothing.

This is also a puzzle that the lvpd police officers can't solve.

Under the special terrain of the beach on the shore of Lake Mead and surrounded by three gunmen.

How can ordinary high school students reverse the crisis on their own?
Ballistic analysis, scene reconstruction, eyewitness confession, shooter autopsy, all kinds of methods have been tried, but the complex scene at that time cannot be completely restored.

But they came to a conclusion. In that case, even the elite of the "Delta" special forces would have a high probability of being shot into a sieve, let alone a high school student.

There are also some ambiguities and exaggerations in the testimony of the witness Wazell, and the credibility is questionable.

"The six people who resisted with you were all shot?" Holden asked.
"Well, they risked their lives to entangle the gunman." Dean saw the suspicious look of the FBI and shook his head, "If you insist on saying that I did it alone, I can't help it."

"But are you sure that I, a yellow-skinned high school student, killed three white gunmen alone and saved a group of innocent white and black people? Is this kind of argument convincing?"

Holden frowned, a complex look flashed in his eyes,
The current social environment is very bad.

Just this year, Japan's auto exports have the momentum to beat the United States.

The performance of the three major American automobile companies has plummeted, and many people have lost their jobs because of this. People hate the days that took their jobs away, and they hate all yellow skins.

Let the yellow-skinned person become the only savior of the Lake Mead shooting in Las Vegas, and there is a huge risk of public opinion to some extent.

This is also what the director asked him to figure out.

"Young man, I don't understand why you reject being a hero so much, but I respect what you said, and I will convey your words to lvpd."

Holden asked carefully, took out a pen and paper from his briefcase,

"But I still have doubts. One of the shooters was strangled and wiped his throat. You did it. Don't deny it. There is fingerprint evidence. Where did you learn these skills?"

Dean stated calmly, "I just learned a little wrestling technique from my uncle, and that guy was also injured and couldn't use his strength. So I seized the opportunity to strangle him tightly. At that time, my mind was blank. A voice makes me keep pushing hard, pushing hard!"

"Why do you have to stab him in the neck after being strangled? Don't leave a life alive."

"How do I know he's passed out, what if he gets up and shoots me? I've never been in that situation, I really have no other choice, you understand?"

Holden wrote an evaluation of "extreme caution" and asked again,
"What about your throat wiping technique? The shooter's trachea and aorta were severed with a single knife, and ordinary people can't pinpoint the location."

"The biology teacher taught it many times, and I got good grades, getting A's every time."

Holden looked at him gravely,
"Don't be kidding, learning knowledge and using it for practice are completely different things. With this kind of skill, I doubt that you are a high-tech surgeon?"

"I killed the gunman, I don't deny it, but is it against the law?" Dean met his gaze and looked over, now it's useless to show weakness and pretend to be stupid.

Holden shook his head, took out a Colt M1911A1 photo from his pocket, and placed it in front of Dean.

"This is your gun? You hit two shooters with it's .45ACP. The angle is unbelievably tricky, and it passes through the armpit where the bulletproof vest is weak. How did you do it?"

Holden's eyes lit up.

Dean's thoughts turned.

The other party must have obtained his fingerprints from the gun a long time ago, and denying it is useless.
"Others helped me entangle the shooter, so I rushed forward. I felt that their upper body was wearing something hard like a steel plate, and their armpits were soft, so I shot there."

"Don't look at me that way. I have registered, spent enough money, and paid taxes. I bought firearms legally and compliantly. And I just bought it not long ago. You can check it at any time."

Dean explained, simply telling the whole story about his experience in Silent Hunter.

"The reason for buying a gun, you should know, my house was ransacked by thugs! I was scared, so I bought some weapons and carried them with me for self-defense!"

"Where did the money for the gun come from?"

"I wrote a song, sold it to the school's morning band, and made a fortune. If you don't believe it, you can check it out. It has been filed."

There was a strange light in Holden's eyes, he walked half a circle around Dean, patted his shoulder, and quietly took a strand of hair from his hospital gown where Dean couldn't see .

"Are all the high school students today so good? The butcher who faced the shooting, the heroic counter-kill like a superman, and the musical talent and artistic talent. Dean, you are a genius."

His tone was full of admiration, with a weird narcissism, as if he was praising himself in the mirror.

Another genius?

Dean got tired of the talk and changed the subject,

"By the way, I saw these three murderers when I left the Silent Shotgun Shop, and they were shopping for weapons."

"Are you sure?" Holden's expression was serious, he stopped walking, put his hands in his coat pockets, and elegantly, quickly and secretly hid the strand of hair in it.

"Well! I am very impressed. Their appearance is different from ordinary people, and they exude a unique temperament. There is a cripple among them. These all match!"

"SHIT!" Holden cursed in a low voice, "I knew Nevada's terrible gun control policy, sooner or later it would be a big mess!"

As he spoke, he nodded,

"Thanks, Dean, you helped a lot. The Silent Hunter must have new clues. In exchange, lvpd will not count your mistake of carrying a gun in public."

"Then when will you return the gun to me?" Dean's sitting posture was very strange, his eyes were vacantly looking ahead, instead of looking at Holden, as if he was talking to himself in the air. "Won't give me 'civil forfeiture'?"

"Which idiot in LVPD dares to confiscate the hero's weapon? If that's the case, I can still think of the headline on the front page of the Las Vegas Daily tomorrow-Confiscate the hero's self-defense weapon, but give the green light to the murderer?"

"Don't worry, I'll give lvpd a message when the time comes, and the gun will be returned to its original owner."

Holden made a solemn promise, and suddenly shrank his neck, a gust of wind blew past his neck, and at the same time, the top of his head tingled, as if someone was pulling out his hair.

He didn't notice that the pockets of his suit swelled and shrank strangely for a moment.

Satisfied, Dean recalled Shadow.

"About the three gunmen, has anything been found out? They have no children? How could they be so ruthless to attack such a group of students?"

Dean was filled with righteous indignation on the surface, but he just asked casually. He didn't think the other party would tell such an important secret to a high school student.

But Holden just doesn't play his cards according to common sense.

"Further investigation is needed...but the backgrounds of the three have been verified, and they are all retired SOIDIERs who have settled in California."

"Being in the losing battle that ended eight years ago, physically injured, mentally suffering from PTSD, unable to find a stable job, and not having enough income to support my family, so I feel resentful."

"According to the descriptions of several survivors, they made similar remarks before taking action, so this action is likely to retaliate against American society."

Holden's answer was smooth and easy, as if communicating with a colleague,
Dean couldn't understand this guy more and more. Was it not against the rules to tell him this?
"However, there are doubts..." Holden changed his voice,
"For example?" Dean quietly handed over a glass of water,

"If they have such a large sum of money to buy fully automatic weapons and expensive bulletproof equipment, why not send the money home, or keep it for themselves to improve their lives, there is only one possibility—"

Holden paused with meaningful words, pushed away his chair and stood up, making an apologetic expression that said nothing, obviously not intending to reveal any more.

But Dean guessed the following.

The only possibility - the gunman's family has already received a sum of money.

whose money?
The life money of the real instigator, the person behind the plan of this attack!

In front of Dean, a man with a round face, a hooked nose, neatly combed black hair, and a business elite temperament appeared involuntarily.

Bob Lowe's father—

James Lowe!

Dean's body under the white hospital clothes suddenly tensed up.

If it was James Lowe who bribed the killer to organize this insane attack, it must be to avenge his son Bob Lowe.

Then the one who killed his son was the original target of revenge!
……

"Dean, aren't you feeling well? Shall I call a doctor for you?"

Dean shook his head, took a few sips of water, and suppressed the guilt in his heart. He just did what he should do.

But he should have been more decisive at the beginning, and after realizing the threat existed, he should have taken action to solve the hidden danger.

However, his experience in a harmonious society and the Celestial Dynasty in his previous life deeply affected his character.

Indecisive, tends to be conservative.

"This is a lesson!"

Dean thought.

This time, James Lowe must not stay any longer!

With a decision, Dean looked at Holden apologetically,
"I want to rest, shall I come here today?"

Holden nodded, stood up neatly, but stopped in front of the door again.

"Dean."

"Ok?"

"Don't worry, the name 'Hero' is a powerful talisman, and no one dares to trouble you at times like this. Besides, I appreciate you more and more, and we will meet again soon."

……

Pfft!
Close the door, out of the ward.

Holden leaned against the wooden door, took out his notebook, opened one of the pages, and erased all the records about Dean with one stroke.

Take out the hair from the coat pocket, carefully put it into a plastic bag and keep it away.

"Sneaking into the villa secretly to kill an enemy is ruthless."

"He didn't hesitate to risk his life, forced his head to kill the shooter in Lake Mead, and saved the lives of a group of people."

"Dean, what kind of person are you, an angel or a devil? What secrets are you hiding?"

Daylight came in from the corridor window.

Holden Ford walked out.

……

In the ward.

Dean, who was also leaning against the wooden door and only separated from Holden, withdrew from God's perspective.

Recall what was snooped from the notebook.

Fortunately, he turned on the "God's perspective" during the whole process of communication, so that he could discover this guy's small movements,
"He doesn't seem to intend to expose me, but wants to test my hair in private? What's his purpose?"

Dean took a bite of the apple and chewed the juicy pulp. Holden gave him a strange impression, as if he had no malice and paid special attention to himself.

"But I won."

During the moment of conversation in the ward just now, Dean had passed through the 'shadow' and unwittingly wrapped his own hair in the FBI pocket into Holden's hair.

"Analyze and compare your own hair, and then return my 'innocence', and if you dare to mess around, I will send you to heaven."

"But now to deal with James Lowe with all our strength, we must first find out his whereabouts."

Dean saw a black man, a member of the baseball team.

"Bob Lowe's former henchmen may have a clue."

(End of this chapter)