The real life of an American police officer: Winning over others with virtue

Chapter 303 A safety net
Boston late at night.

A black Toyota Corolla cut through the night, speeding toward Boston Logan International Airport.

“Mike, I have an emergency. I need any cabin class on the next flight to Paris Charles de Gaulle Airport, even the last seat.”

Use my Robert Hall ID to make the reservation.

Yes, right now.

After informing Eric in Paris, Bill began to utilize his connections and relationships.

He had previously taken on small air marshal assignments due to government employment, and naturally knew some friends in charge of aviation operations.

After making the call, Bill looked out the window. His usual melancholy had vanished, replaced by an extreme calmness.

He then dialed the next number: "Hey Damian, it's me. Kimmy has been kidnapped in Paris, and I need help."

To pinpoint the kidnapper's approximate identity through a unique tattoo and an unfamiliar language, Damian, as the team's top intelligence expert and hacker, was undoubtedly the fastest and most effective choice.

At this moment, in front of an inconspicuous detached house in the suburbs, without any light.

Damian, who was sleeping on a makeshift cot, was startled for a moment, but his sleepiness vanished instantly and his expression suddenly turned serious. He abruptly got up and walked to the workbench, saying in a deep voice.

"Send me the information you have."

"OK!"

As Bill said this, Damian's fingers struck a specific area on the keyboard heavily.

The surrounding array of monitors, which had been in sleep mode and were only flashing a few indicator lights, all lit up.

On the screen, a complex stream of data began to flow like a waterfall, multiple command-line windows popped up, and various graphical analysis tool interfaces unfolded one after another.

Bill maintained the call with Damian, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on another device, sending Damian all the information he had.

For example, the tattoos, language, the location of the incident, the timeline, the name Alexandre at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris, and Eric's presence in Paris, etc.

A notification light indicates that the message was successfully sent.

Bill didn't hesitate any longer. He slammed on the gas, the engine roared, and the black Corolla sped off like an arrow, accelerating again on the empty night road, racing toward Logan International Airport.

"Message received, being processed." Damian's voice rang out in the car, accompanied by the rapid clicking of keyboard keys.

"The moon and star tattoo is a key feature. I'm searching global crime databases, prison registers, and even social media group images from underground gangs for matching tattoo designs, trying to pinpoint a specific organization or individual."

The focus is on screening records linked to Eastern Europe and the Balkans, cross-referencing passenger lists with databases of known human smugglers' aliases.

Bill listened in silence: "They must be part of an organization."

“I understand. I’m trying to access potential private surveillance networks around the Marais district, but that will take time to crack and filter.” Damien paused.

"Bill, your boarding information has been synced to your mobile device. Mike has arranged the next Air France flight, departing in an hour. You are using Robert King's credentials."

Bill glanced at the navigation and estimated the remaining time.

Damian, seemingly having discovered something as he moved on to the next step of the process, exclaimed in surprise, "Bill! You mentioned Eric in your message? Eric is in Paris? And already here?"

Bill confirmed, "He happens to be in Paris and should be here right now."

Upon confirmation, Damian's typing pace noticeably quickened.

"Understood. With him on the scene in time, many things will be much more convenient and a lot of time will be saved."

Bill didn't speak, but just looked out the windshield. The signs for Logan International Airport were already in sight, and the outline of the terminal building became clear in the night.

Bill skillfully drove the car into the temporary parking area closest to the departure hall, took only what he needed, got out of the car, and walked quickly towards the terminal.

An employee in an airline uniform was already waiting inside, silently handing over the boarding pass and passport.

“The lane is ready, Mr. Hall,” the staff member whispered, guiding him to a quiet, fast-track security lane.

Bill nodded and followed, quickly passing through security while putting his headphones back on.

"Damian, I'm ready to board."

“Understood. The satellite link will stabilize within twenty minutes of takeoff. I will update you immediately if there is any progress,” Damian replied.

Bill ended the call and happened to walk to the boarding gate.

The last few passengers were boarding at the jet bridge. He showed his boarding pass to the ground staff, stepped into the cabin expressionlessly, and the cabin door slowly closed behind him.

------------

Paris.

Eric was putting all the useful things he had collected into one of his empty handbags as he left the apartment building and returned to his car.

Eric silently searched through the contents, but the clues he could actually obtain were extremely limited. In the end, he took out the phone with a completely shattered screen and a bent body.

He didn't know who the phone belonged to, but based on where it was dropped, it should undoubtedly be Amanda.

When I tried pressing the power button, the screen went black and there was no response.

The damage is visibly severe.

Without professional physical evidence-gathering tools, Eric could only find the nearest mobile phone repair shop by using navigation.

ten minutes later.

The car stopped in front of a small shop whose window displayed various new and used mobile phones and parts.

The store was lit up, and a young man in overalls with messy hair was dozing off on the counter.

Eric pushed open the door and entered. The doorbell startled the young man, who rubbed his eyes and muttered impatiently in French:

"Sir, it's almost time for our lunch break."

Eric didn't waste any words. He placed the shattered phone on the glass counter and switched to fluent French.

"Is it possible to recover the data inside?"

As Eric spoke, he pulled out several large-denomination euro banknotes:

"money is not a problem."

The young man's sleepiness vanished instantly. His gaze swept quickly between the cash and the phone. He picked up the phone, plugged it in to test it, and then carefully examined the internal damage under the light.

"The screen is completely destroyed, and the motherboard is probably warped as well," the young man said, frowning.

"The memory chip needs to be removed and read using specialized equipment."

“I’ll wait here,” Eric interrupted him, adding a few more euro banknotes to the counter and glancing at the shop’s simple worktable.

"At your fastest speed."

The young man hesitated for a moment, but ultimately couldn't resist the lure of the generous reward. "I'll give it a try." He picked up his tools and gestured for Eric to follow him to the cluttered workshop at the back.

For the next ten minutes, Eric sat at the workshop door, watching the young man skillfully use a heat gun, precision tweezers, and a tiny screwdriver to disassemble the phone.

Finally, a memory chip smaller than a little fingernail was successfully removed, connected to a dedicated reader, and then plugged into a computer.

The young man operated the complex software interface, the progress bar moving slowly.

“Alright. Some data has been recovered, but a lot of photos were lost, though some of the most recent ones seem to be viewable.” The young man turned the screen toward Eric.

Eric looked at the screen, which displayed a list of recovered files, many of which were image files marked with errors.

He snatched the mouse from the young man and clicked on the images that were still previewable.

Most of the images are blurry street scenes and food, along with some corrupted files that cannot be displayed.

Eric's gaze swept quickly across the screen until a relatively clear photograph appeared.

It's a photo of Kimmy and Amanda at Charles de Gaulle Airport, with the huge U2 billboard in the background.

Eric quickly clicked on the next image. The moment the photo on the screen switched, Eric's eyes narrowed slightly.

He finally found something useful.

This is clearly a selfie taken by Amanda with her phone. She and Kim are head to head, smiling brightly.

And not far behind them, a man was clearly captured in the frame.

The man appeared to be standing casually next to the billboard, but his gaze was fixed on Kimmy and Amanda.

Although it's not certain whether this man is the Alexander that Kimmy mentioned who approached them.

But Eric is already 80% certain.

Eric took out his phone and snapped several photos of the computer screen.

Then send them all to Bill.

According to his deduction, Bill should have boarded the plane by now.

If it were him, it definitely would be.

Bill, who is a doting father to his daughter, was naturally even more anxious than him.

After sending the message, Eric looked at the young man at the repair shop and said, "I'm taking this phone and all the data with me."

The young man nodded and began to tidy up.

Eric paid double the price, carefully collected the memory chip and the remains of the phone, and quickly left the store amidst the young man's puzzled gaze.

------

On a plane bound for Paris Charles de Gaulle Airport.

Bill connected to the aircraft's satellite Wi-Fi and then used a mobile phone with encrypted communication software installed to stay in touch with Damian via the internet.

After completing this step, Bill took out a small tape recorder again and played it repeatedly to his ear.

Aside from the key features of Jinmi's shouts, the main focus is on the two sentences spoken by the kidnappers.

"...(She's inside)."

Good luck.

This is to repeatedly reinforce the memory so that when encountering kidnappers, one can recognize them by their voice.

Bill even mentally predicted the kidnapper's appearance by combining key features.

At this moment, Damian made a move, and Bill had no choice but to suspend the operation, saying:
"Damian, what did you find?"

“They are speaking Albanian,” Damian said.

"Judging from their tone of voice, they are from Chopagga."

"Zhuopaga," Bill repeated in a low voice, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Djupaga, located in northern Albania, is a region known for its intricate family ties and ruthless, efficient criminal networks, and is considered one of the cradles of organized crime talent in Europe.

“Especially family gangs in Western Europe that engage in kidnapping, human trafficking, and forced prostitution,” Damian said.

"Their modus operandi is to send a seemingly harmless scout to locate a target at a transportation hub, and then the action team carries out the kidnapping."

They forced the kidnapped people to become addicted to drugs and eventually made them into prostitutes.

I suspect that the man named Alexander that Kimmy encountered was one of their scouts.

In addition, the tattoo is a gang symbol, and after in-depth comparison, it can be confirmed that it is an internal symbol of a specific family.

Combining the Chupaga region and the kidnapping pattern, the target area has been significantly narrowed down.

I'm cross-validating with several non-public criminal family databases, and we'll soon be able to pinpoint the specific family.

Bill continued, "Anything else?"

“Based on this type of crime, my analysis shows that you only have ninety-six hours from the time Kimmy was kidnapped, otherwise it would be very difficult to find her again,” Damian sighed.

Bill closed his eyes and took a deep breath: "I understand. Stay in touch."

Damian didn't respond, giving Bill some time.

But before Bill could compose himself, Eric's message synced to his phone. Bill's heart skipped a beat, and he quickly checked the message.

"Is this a scout?" Bill's chest heaved as he barely suppressed his murderous intent as he looked at the unfamiliar man in the group photo. He sent the photo to Damian and also sent the information Damian had obtained to Eric.

P.S.: "Can you catch this scout, Eric?"

For him, there was not much time left to waste.

It will take him at least nine hours to get to Paris.

--------

So, Eric, who had just sat back in the driver's seat, received a whole bunch of things.

"Albanians? Scouts? Criminal families? This information is very important."

Eric raised an eyebrow, finally seeing Bill's postscript, and manually entered the information.

“Sure, with so much information, I estimate we can trace it all the way back to Kimmy. But I have a question: can you cover the fallback, Bill?”

This is a very important question, as it will determine his pattern of action.

After all, this is France, not the America he is familiar with.

If Bill cannot cover the losses, then he will be more careful to avoid being targeted by French law enforcement.

Once Bill can cover the losses, then he will have no worries.

Just do it and it's done.

The message was sent successfully. Eric started the car and continued driving towards Charles de Gaulle Airport.

Bill was able to retire safely and still serve as an air marshal, which suggests he had a very good relationship with the government.

Eric recalled Bill and his group's earlier conversation: "It seems like their leader is doing pretty well?"

Bill quickly replied: "Yes! Europe is our backyard! No matter what happens, someone will take care of it."

In addition to that, Bill even provided some operational support, giving him several addresses.

One is a so-called safe spot, but he doesn't know if it's a CIA safe spot.

There's another equipment spot, but I don't know if it's in the Dark World or within Bill's social circle.

"Go here, someone will prepare your equipment."

Eric controls the car with one hand and inputs information with the other.

"Aren't you afraid I'll mess this up, Bill?"

Bill looked at the text messages on his phone, recalling Damian's account of the café incident and the subsequent investigation:

“I know your capabilities well. If you can’t do it, I can’t do it either, Eric.”

The next second, Eric replied with the last sentence:
"OK! I'll give it a try."

Upon seeing the text message, Bill pursed his lips and began to draw upon all the connections he had built up over the years working for the government.

He has worked for the government for so many years and made so many contributions; it's time for the government to bail him out!

(End of this chapter)