"lay down your weapon!"

The LAPD, who arrived belatedly, said they were scared. Los Angeles had not seen a firefight of this scale for a long time. In less than ten minutes, two FBI agents and six unknown gunmen fired nearly a thousand rounds at each other.

A group of LAPD rushed to the scene and aimed their guns at Jack, who was still carrying a Noveske N4 and squatting in front of Emily.

"Put down the gun! Put down the gun! One of our own!" Even though Tim became the superintendent, he still took the lead. He recognized Jack with his back turned to him at a glance.

John, who was called for support, had just gotten out of the car and was stunned by the scene in front of him.

The ground was densely covered with bullet casings. Two bodies fell in the middle of the road, and there were two more bodies on the sidewalk. Blood mixed with white tofu spread on the street along with the rain, and the smell of blood was pungent.

Seeing Jack's "Mammoth" that once made him salivate with envy, turn into the miserable appearance full of bullet marks, John felt that his breathing suddenly became very difficult.

"I'm fine."

On the other side, Emily pushed Jack away gently and tried to stand up from the ground, but found that her legs were extremely weak.

Jack took the thermal blanket and put it on Emily, and handed her over to the emergency personnel for examination. It was necessary to check her blood pressure and so on. Her limbs were weak and her hands and feet were trembling. This is what ordinary people experience after excessive secretion of adrenaline. Normal reaction.

The BAU friends have received the news and are on their way here. After greeting the two old guys Tim and John, Jack walks into the house in front of him and, as expected, finds a still warm body on the sofa in the living room. .

"Do you know who he is?" Tim asked, following him.

Jack nodded, "It should be the owner of this house, Byron Delaney, who was also the target we originally planned to visit."

"There are no gunshot wounds or strangulation marks. It looks like he had a heart attack. How did the murderer do it?" John, who followed him into the house, put on rubber gloves and did a rough inspection.

"Poison." Jack pointed to the corpse's right foot. Although it was wearing leather shoes, the shoelaces had not yet been tied. It was probably because of the sudden arrival of him and Emily that the murderers did not have time to complete the last step. .

John squatted down in front of the sofa, took off the leather shoes and socks on the corpse's right foot, and found an insignificant injection hole between the big toe and second toe of the deceased.

"It should be using drugs like succinylcholine to disguise the symptoms of sudden cardiac death."

Hearing this, John showed an interested look on his face, and even Tim couldn't help but raise his eyebrows.

"What other spy cases have you been involved in?"

The two of them immediately became interested. They were too familiar with this classic plot from the Cold War era.

Jack made a zipper movement on his lips, "The danger this time is too high, so we're keeping it a secret for the time being. Have you seen what my car looks like?"

"Terrorist?" It can only be said that it was John who hit the nail on the head. Jack clenched his fists and decided not to say a single word.

"Ha! I guessed it right!" John was as happy as anything.

"Keep guessing." Jack smiled and took out the handcuffs, "Have you ever heard of Guantánamo?"

John was so frightened that he backed away and shook his head desperately, as if he would not speak even if he died.

Watching the two guys playing tricks, Tim shook his head speechlessly, "Then I'll leave this to you FBI. I'll leave a few guys here. Remember to tell me when it's over, I still have a bottle of 10-year-old whiskey."

The two old friends from the LAPD said goodbye and left, and Jack soon welcomed his friends from the BAU.

"I haven't seen such a big scene for a long time, Jack. It seems that leaving Emily to your protection is the right choice." Rosie slowly walked into the house.

Hotchner was much more straightforward. He was more nervous than anyone else when he heard that Jack and Emily were attacked, but when he saw that they were unharmed, he would not go out of his way to ask for help, but would focus on the case in front of him. superior.

Because rationally speaking, the best protection for the two of them is to investigate the case as soon as possible and catch the murderer.

"Twenty thousand in cash, a self-defense pistol, and a passport. It looked like the victim was in a hurry to escape."

Hotchner opened a suitcase on the coffee table, and these were the only things inside.

"The interior layout is similar to that of Fagan and Cosenza, with multiple door locks and advanced security systems."

Jack said as he picked up the phone from the ground and unlocked it directly with the deceased's fingerprint.

"It doesn't seem surprising that the two most recent outbound calls, one from Kelly Fagan, were made to Cosenza's home at 10:30 and 10:31 this morning. They only rang twice. Hang up, not connected."

"How do you say? Someone warned him, but did not inform Fagan and Cosencha of the accident. He warned them as promised?"

Rossi sounded a little unsure.

"I think Emily might know something." Hotchner's eyes were a little worried as he passed through the entrance and landed outside the door, where Emily was squatting on the steps wearing a silver thermal blanket. Let's go with Red to examine the bodies of the attackers.

"Emily definitely doesn't know the identities of these victims, otherwise she would tell us as soon as we receive the case today." Rossi quickly explained as if worried about a misunderstanding.

Jack thought of the previous yells made by the two attackers before they left, and shrugged, "She may not know the identity of the victim, but she must know the attackers."

The three of them walked out of the house and came to the steps. Before they could speak, Emily took the initiative to confess, "One of the two people who escaped was Ian Doyle, and the other was probably his most loyal subordinate - Li Em.”

"Are you sure?" Jack was a little surprised. The six gunmen all wore white masks, just like V for Vendetta. Emily didn't have his extraordinary perception. On this dark and rainy night, why would she be like this? affim.

"Very sure." As she said that, Amy pulled down the right sleeve of one of the gunman's corpses, revealing a tattoo on her wrist.

This is a kind of tattoo that Jack has never seen before, a four-leaf clover, which is the kind with one more leaf than the normal alfalfa, but a number that looks like the "Nike" brand is used on the stem of the leaf.

What the hell is this? Adding a leaf to the Adidas clover logo and adding Nike underneath? Is this a terrorist organization that loves sports brands?

"This is the symbol of 'Valhalla,' which is both Doyle's pseudonym and the name of the organization he once led."

Emily explained, "I have never seen the four gunmen killed by Jack. They were all young people just over 20, but they were well-trained. They should be new recruits recruited by Doyle."

"So the person yelling Lauren Reynolds was Doyle? He also recognized you and that was the alias you used?"

Jack sighed, with fake sadness on his face, "No wonder most of the bullets are aimed at me."

"Maybe he regards you as his love rival." Rossi teased with a smile.

Emily couldn't help showing embarrassment on her face, raised her hands in protest, "Please, don't do this, I really am not in the mood to make such a joke right now."

Rhett, who never knew how to comfort others, unexpectedly said something long this time, "From a rational point of view, I think this is indeed a good thing.

Just like the story about throwing the boot, now that the enemy has appeared, it's like the second boot finally falls, and Emily no longer needs to be nervous about this moment. "

"Reed is right. The next thing is what we are good at. We will profile Doyle as an ordinary case and then find him." Hotchner, who is also a rationalist, agreed. .

It turns out that in European and American culture, there is also a joke about throwing boots. Jack thought so, but his eyes fell on his car, and his mood suddenly became bad.

Please give me some monthly tickets, the big one is coming.

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