Chapter 1278: The Connection Between John and Simon

While they were investigating the building, Dustin sent them a message: FBI and Homeland Security are here. I’m in their car.

Luke wasn’t too surprised.

The explosion on Wall Street earlier had been in too sensitive a location.

Also, it proved that Simon’s “game” wasn’t just for show. There were indeed follow-up arrangements that could be triggered at any time.

The FBI and Homeland Security couldn’t sit still anymore.

If this continued, even if they didn’t have to take full responsibility, the person in charge still wouldn’t be able to bear the consequences.

It didn’t matter what the higher-ups thought, but the people in charge of these two organizations in New York didn’t have the courage to take the blame, and had finally come knocking.

Luke simply sent a message to Dustin to turn on the Internet call function on his phone so that he could listen in.

Actually, Luke had modified the cell phone which he had given to Dustin. Naturally, anything that passed through his hands, he could hack and activate himself.

But Dustin was his friend, and Luke wouldn’t do it without permission unless it was absolutely necessary.

On the other side, Dustin got up and made a call to one of his men. When he hung up after saying a few words, he left the phone on. Putting it back into his pocket, he waved at John and Zeus. “Here.”

John and Zeus were in a sorry state. They were covered in dust and looked exhausted when Dustin summoned them.

It was a pity that all the people in this spacious logistics van had hearts of stone. They didn’t care how hard-up these two looked. They got straight to the point and asked them what they knew about the terrorists.

As Luke searched for Targo, he listened in on the conversation in the logistics van, and curled his lip.

Selina didn’t have Luke’s ability to multitask over a long period of time. She simply asked non-intrusively, “Conversation not going smoothly?”

Luke chuckled. “They want to know everything, but they don’t want us to know anything.”

Staring at the tablet, Selina controlled the drones to push in closer one by one. She sneered. “Ha, they still want to steal credit at a time like this? Aren’t they afraid they’ll choke to death on sh*t?”

Luke shook his head regretfully. “That’s impossible. If they’re full from eating sh*t, then Dustin… Hm, why did you describe it in such a shocking way?”

Selina said, “It’s because these people are so disgusting. They’re risking the lives of ordinary people just to reap benefits. They’re even worse than sh*t.”

Luke didn’t say anything else, because there really was nothing he could say.

Following the previous attack on New York, there had been a lot of clues after that, which pointed to a few departments in the United States and the person in the white House. It was very likely that they had known about the matter beforehand.

Some conspiracy theorists said that they had deliberately allowed the attack to happen in order to increase their power.

But the most they could only say was that they hadn’t expected the outcome to be so tragic.

That was because the whole world knew that whoever profited the most would be the biggest suspect.

Anybody who recalled the fallout from that incident would understand that it was very likely.

That was because since then, the collars around the neck of the White House and several intelligence agencies, which were habitually stifled by Congress and the public, were finally loosened, and their power of law enforcement increased dramatically.

In the past, many things had to be agreed upon before they could be carried out. Now, as long as they followed certain rules, they could act independently against individuals suspected of terrorist activity.

Compared with the last incident, the deaths in today’s New York case were nothing.

It wasn’t unusual for certain agencies to watch the situation deteriorate or even fuel the flames.

However, no matter what benefits certain people wanted to reap from this incident, the Detective Bureau couldn’t shoulder the blame.

Luke was in the Detective Bureau, and Dustin would be directly crushed by the blame if he couldn’t shoulder it.

Thus, the Detective Bureau had to capture Targo alive, and the other higher-ups would also do their best to do the same.

The small fry should be taken down to the last man.

However, Luke couldn’t guarantee how long they would live after they were released from the police department.

In any case, once everything was over, the fate of these people had nothing to do with the Detective Bureau.

You took the first step, I’ll take 50! It was only right to return the favor.

As Luke pondered this, something substantial finally popped up in the conversation in the logistics van.

In the face of the other party’s haranguing, John didn’t flare up, and simply retorted, “I only know that there’s some dog called Simon who has placed bombs all around the city, and he’s already set off ten of them. How would I know why he’s fixated on me?”

The three men turned around and looked at each other.

The oldest man, who was about 50 years old, was from the FBI. He nodded at the other two middle-aged men who were around forty, one African-American and one Caucasian.

The Caucasian man with gold-rimmed glasses was from Homeland Security. He took out a file from his bag and showed them a photo. “Do you know this person?”

John and Zeus, who had been silent the whole time, looked at the photo carefully and shook their heads.

Neither of them knew anyone in the next few pictures.

The African-American agent picked up the file and turned back to the first page. Pointing at the tall man in sunglasses, he said, “This man is Mathias Targo, a bomb expert who has carried out far too many terrorist attacks. Also, he usually charges a fee for his work. We call him a freelance terrorist.”

John stared at the picture. “Who’s the woman next to him?”

The man in gold-rimmed glasses said, “His girlfriend, Katya. The rumor is that an agent put a bomb under their bed. In the end, Targo never went back, while Katya met her maker.”

After that, the African-American agent flipped to the second page. “This man is from Germany. Reportedly, he served in a classified unit, but the German side hasn’t acknowledged him. His name is Peter Gruber.”

Then, all three of them looked at John, clearly waiting for his reply.

John felt that something wasn’t right and asked in confusion, “Wow, that’s a lot of detail. But what does it have to do with me?”

The three of them had strange expressions on their faces. After trading looks for a moment, it was the old man from the FBI who said, “The name Gruber should ring a bell, right?”

John was stumped, and Dustin frowned.

A troublesome man in a beard appeared in John’s mind as he mumbled, “Yeah, that sounds familiar.”

Joe, who was standing guard next to the vehicle, suddenly thought of something. “Is that from the Nakatomi Plaza case in Los Angeles?”

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