Wine and Gun

There are thirteen other children with him now, the older ones are about his height, and the younger ones are only six or seven years old; some of them are hiding in the corners and sobbing softly, while others are a little frightened. Looking around, there were a few other children who just stared at the empty wall with numb eyes.

What exactly happened here? The guards never stopped the children from seeing each other. Did something unusual happen? Midaren looked around, feeling that his heart had never beat so fast. But the knife was sticking close to his ribs - the knife that was given to him by the indifferent but unexpectedly kind reporter, the metal object warmed by the body temperature gave him some weak sense of security .

The reporter said he would write a report and let someone else save them. He gave the only route he had figured out at the time, or could the police find them with that information?

Midalun was thinking about whether to use the knife to cut the rope secretly or not, when the door was suddenly opened: a tall figure stood at the door, and many children shrank in disbelief. , broke out a sob or two.

"Don't fucking cry!" the fierce man shouted, "Follow me! Quick!"

McCard jumped out of the car, a body armor marked FBI over his shirt and a pistol pinned to his waist. Although BAU is not responsible for kicking the door and rescuing the hostages personally, this equipment is still foolproof.

John Garcia got out of the car after him. He had never been involved in such a big action since he entered the BAU. I don't know if it was because of nervousness or excitement. He was shaking from the tips of his hair to the toes. The other SWAT groups have also gotten off the bus, one group stayed in place and stood by, the other two groups burst in from the main entrance, and the other groups had already circled to other directions on the outer wall of the building, and their backs disappeared into the messy, not yet green in the weeds.

"We are now..." Garcia said, his voice was a bit gān, and he had to stop and re-phrase, "Can we just wait now?"

McCard looked inside calmly and nodded: "We can't go in until the SWAT team gets the situation under control - hopefully by then we can find some clues inside that are enough to convict this case, with the existing clues the judge will sign. The arrest warrant was signed very reluctantly, and if there is no trace of the child there, we will be in big trouble."

But looking at the clues brought by the mysterious informant of Police Officer Bull, McCard actually believed that Slade was very likely to be the initiator of the series of river dumping cases. But he is no longer naive, and he is not as heartless and indifferent as Olga Molozze, so he knows that it is difficult to convict such a person who has something to do with a big man, and even if he is accused, there is a way to escape.

Instead of letting Slade stay in prison for a meaningless two or three years, it's better to find a way to get him out on bail... It's a pity that Amalette should know nothing about this case now, after all Even Dr. Bacchus doesn't come to the police station very often.

If he can get through in front of Herstal Armalite, will the other party follow his expectations and kill Slade? Waiting for the pianist to kill Slade before he catches the pianist is of course a best of both worlds strategy, but...

Garcia, who was beside him, was still looking nervously in the direction of the building, while McCard was already wandering. The naive young people still don't know the inherent flaws of the so-called "investigation", "evidence", "law" and other words. If all cases rely on evidence, some people will always escape sanctions because of luck, just like the Simpson case back then, Someone like Slade, someone like Herstal Armalette.

Since he has no right to judge others, and doesn't want to lynch himself like a pianist, he can only choose the last option. In the last way, Slade can die at the hands of a brutal murderer, and another set of "evidence" can be used to deal with Amarette, who has little political power behind him.

Of course, that's something he'll start planning after the SWAT guys succeed.

If Olga Molozze had any chance of opening her eyes again, she would point out—as she would never stop saying—"Mccard, you're not omnipotent, You will make mistakes one day."

McCard understands what she means, and people who hold his own thoughts, weaving charges for people who have not been found guilty, may one day send truly innocent people to prison.

But he's different from everyone else...he can't go wrong.

Lavasa McArd stared at the building in front of him immersed in darkness, the ghost in the dark, the whirlpool of sin.

At least, it hasn't gone wrong yet.

Old Hunter, who was hiding in the tattered automatic transmission car, found that many cars approached the outer wall of the orphanage from different directions, and then stopped in hidden corners nearby.

His brows slowly furrowed, and sharp wrinkles formed on his forehead: Is that the police car? McCard finally figured it out? ——Due to McCard's performance in the butcher's case, Hunter didn't have much affection for the FBI agent. Or, it is the people under Slade, what big moves are they going to make?

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