The Thanksgiving decorations one could see while walking on the streets didn't bring a hint of warmth to the day's gloomy weather, and the scattered fallen leaves were swept up by the wind and fluttered like dying butterflies against the hem of a long trench coat.
Leo just came out of the Orange County's post office. Although he was prepared for the result, he still couldn't hide his disappointment. It's basically been 20 years, so not all of the post office operators, postmen, street mailboxes, surveillance videos and other relevant evidence were available for inspection anymore. The manufacturers and sellers of the stationery had also changed long ago. The only thing he could do was to take a picture of the letter in question and send it to the headquarters, hoping that his colleagues in BAU could give him some profiling based on the handwriting.
As he was walking, Leo suddenly sensed a tingling feeling, like there was a sharp needle of malicious intent pointed on his back.
He realized that he was being secretly spied on, and immediately became vigilant. His trained eyes looked through his surroundings, while still maintaining a casual demeanor: not the chattering high school girls around the corner taking pictures nor is it the housewife inside the Volkswagen parked on the street who took a double glance at him while talking on the phone......
His eyes continued to scan rapidly in the crowd like a precision instrument, and he abruptly looked back at a tall building behind him- the moment he did so, the tingling feeling disappeared instantly, and the previous abnormality he sensed seemed to be just an illusion caused by too much mental stress.
But Leo knew it wasn't an illusion-even if it was just for a minute, he truly became a prey to a certain someone's line of sight.
That sensation wasn't unfamiliar at all during his eight-year career after all, he had sent countless criminals to prison. If those eyes full of malice directed at him could kill, his body would have long been riddled with holes.
Amidst his contemplation, his mobile phone rang. He accepted the call as he continued walking quickly to his car.
"Hey Leo, are you still in O.C.? I've got some news here, one bad and the other quite unexpected. Which one would you like to hear first?" His partner, who was on the other end of the line, said.
"In logical order."
"Aha, I knew you'd answer that way. Okay, there are no fingerprints on the envelope or the letter itself, so obviously that person was very cautious, and by relying on handwriting alone, the BAU side could only give a vague profiling. It didn't help us narrow down the scope of our investigation by much."
"How vague?"
"Between the ages of 18 and 50, right-handed, with a confident and cunning personality, strong-willed and fond of exacerbating conflict- that vague."
Leo sighed lightly, "I hope the other unexpected news carries a pleasant surprise."
"I can't guarantee, but it was a little strange. Last night, I was drinking at a bar with an old classmate I hadn't seen in years-"
"You still have time to drink? Do you know that this week I haven't slept for more than 6 hours a day?"
"Oh, I didn't mean to make you jealous. It's just that I had a good relationship with him in the past...He's an Interpol officer based in Europe." Rob said guiltily, "Last night, I was talking to him over drinks and somehow we brushed up on the "the Serial Killer- Hunter" topic. You know even after the verdict, the heat of the case still hasn't died down. Vinn, who's already a little drunk, started telling me about some "Blue Notice" a few years ago. He said that when he was working on the case, he got acquainted with an informant who worked as a go-between for the rich, tyrants, military, etc., in hiring some professionals to solve these people's problems."
"A middleman for mercenary organizations and their clients?" Leo gave a brief overview.
"Yes. The guy has a very slippery character, a typical example of a person who leans on both ends. Anyway, Vinn went to dinner with him once, and the news of "Serial Killer Hunter Has Been Caught" was airing on the TV. That was the first ever broadcast of that case to the public but when that man saw Sha Qing's Picture on the TV, he cried out "Isn't he-", then he seemed to have realized that he almost made a slip of the tongue, so he immediately cut his words. Vinn guessed that he knew Sha Qing from before, but seeing that the criminal has been brought to justice, he didn't take that incident seriously. If I hadn't talked about this topic last night , it wouldn't have been mentioned at all."
Interpol, Blue Notice...... Leo realized that the Bureau had missed something during the investigation of Sha Qing.
Maybe he's not an American citizen at all; it's possible that he's holding multiple citizenships and the thing was, there's also a chance that none of those nationalities were true either.
He likes to navigate between the gaps of various regimes, disdains land laws as beneath contempt, and had his own set of survival rules and ways of doing things as if he's living in another dimension of the whole world-
""
-Perhaps.... he is, or was, a real freelancer, an international mercenary!
Only this could explain his remarkable capabilities: his superb disguise, his proficiency in using tri-edged knives and military-like fighting style, and mastery of various professional skills.
The only unexplainable thing was him taking up the name "Sha Qing" two years ago as he began systematically hunting down serial killers. What made him leave the profitable mercenary organization to embark in another equally bloody but profitless killing?
Leo was silent for a long time, so Rob thought there was a problem with the signal. He ended up hanging up the call after not hearing any response from Leo.
.
.
.
Back in his hotel room, Leo dialed a number from his contacts, "Hey Keilin, it's me, there's something I need to ask you. I know you have connections in ICPO. Can you help me find out which international mercenary organizations underwent significant changes around 2 years ago?... Yes, major events affecting at least their core personnel... That's right, 2 years ago, including private military companies and contractors ... Just send it through email...Thanks a lot."
After pondering for a bit, he thought it was best to do both. He dialed Rob back and instructed him to get information about the informant's identity from his old classmate.
"I'm afraid that won't be easy." Rob said, feeling some difficulty, "You see, we all cherish our informants, just as anglerfishes love their Lures."
"Yes, but we are fishing friends, and sometimes we can borrow each other's bait. Tell him that if he wanted the fish that bit it, I will give it to him."
"Fine. I'll try my best."
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
Rikers Island, New York.
Except for the addition of canned turkey meat and pumpkin puree on the lunch and dinner menu, there was no other festive atmosphere in the "Grave". Perhaps the guards thought it would be quite amusing to make these incorrigible outlaws learn to be "grateful", Captain Eric made a lecture during the roll call, "The only thing you should be grateful for is that the federal government has abolished the death penalty, and that the taxpayers' hard-earned money has to be used to support you poisonous insects of society. Happy Thanksgiving, scums! Now, go back to your stinking nests!"
Just as Simon turned his back, Wolf gave a wink to a few of his subordinates. Those men rushed forward at once, lunging towards their chosen targets as improvised knives slipped out of their cuffs, and they quickly stabbed into their opponent's abdomen. Pull out, stab again. Pull out, stab again. These vicious movements repeated endlessly, filling the area with loud wails and splashes of blood.
And just like when a bucket of blood poured into the sea, the sharks got stimulated and roused instantaneously- the other inmates started to kick-up a fuss one after another. They howled and shook the iron bars, and the sound of clanging metal echoed throughout. More people heard the sound of the war's blowing horn and like a pack of beasts that got herded into a narrow path, they drew their "weapons". Regardless of danger, they pounced on rival gang members and anyone they found unpleasant.
"Good job! Go on brothers, finish them off!"
"Cut his throat! Rip their stomachs out!"
"Blood! Blood! Blood!"
Some inmates even chanted, "Wars come and go, but my soldiers stay eternal..."
The countenance of the prison guards present, including Captain Eric, abruptly changed.