CM The future I see without you

The brass straight shell fragments lay quietly in the clean evidence bag, and through the transparent polymer, even the muscle fibers and coagulated black blood clots on its scorched edges could be clearly seen.

Emily frowned, returned the bag to the forensic doctor, and asked, "Are you sure this is the only one?"

"At least we didn't find any other bullet casings with Agent Natalie's blood in that apartment." The thick mask covered three-half of the male forensic doctor's face, and he winked at Emily, hoping that this capable The beautiful female detective can give him a little more attention.

He said enthusiastically: "Don't look at the small size of this shell, the mass has reached the peak state of 15 grams, the ACP shell with a cross-sectional density of 0.162 and its perfect partner Colt M1911, let alone..."

Emily's head is full of on-site photos from Garcia, which clearly show the broken mirror in Natalie's apartment and the glass residues scattered all over the floor. From the huge hole in the window whistling through the cold apartment, with the smell of mournful farewell.

Restraining herself not to put her thumb in her mouth, she turned around and bypassed the forensic doctor and reopened the [-]D drawing of the victim's wound on the computer. After thinking for a while, she seemed to be talking to herself: "Natalie's apartment is on the fifteenth floor of the building The closest and observable place is the roof of a department store three miles away, not to mention the cloudy day, how did he manage to hit it with one hit? And what can the ACP bomb be used with to achieve this kind of effect? Effect? ​​This is completely impossible."

"Sniper? Oh, sniper, I heard that if there is a handsome guy in the bureau...by the way, what's his name? I think...it seems to be a half-French..." The forensic doctor came over, earnestly Providing information, he didn't even notice Emily's furrowed brows facing the fluorescent computer screen, and continued, "But I heard that he likes men and has a cohabiting boyfriend! That's that, that A nerd like a bamboo pole, by the way, he seems to be the profiler of BAU..."

As he spoke, his voice lowered a little bit.The forensic doctor looked at the beautiful detective who was watching him calmly, and suddenly realized that the special inspector who came to handle the case was also from BAU, but the FBI only had one BAU...

"Well, no matter what, thank you for your hard work." Emily pulled the corners of her mouth trying to show a smile, stood up from the chair, turned around and picked up her gray coat, and said, "By the way, don't forget Send the autopsy report to our information technology person, her name is Garcia, I think you should have communicated a few times."

"Oh, yes, yes, of course, I also sent her the autopsy report of Agent Levine..." The forensic doctor smiled apologetically. Agent, said, "Sorry, I... I'm sorry, what I just said, really, I, I was just too busy to turn my head around..."

"You don't have to apologize to me," Emily stopped at the door and said coldly, "I can understand."

After finishing speaking, she lifted her foot and left. The male forensic doctor panicked and shouted: "Detective! Wait, oh, by the way, don't you want to take a look at the corpse? I've taken care of everything!"

The clear male voice echoed a few faint echoes in the empty and cold corridor. Emily waved her hands back irritably and walked outside.

The aisles are long, dark, and cold. The sound of the shoes colliding with the floor tiles in "Deng Deng Deng" gradually slowed down, and the capable female detective slowly gathered up the heavy dark gray cashmere coat on her body, but the coldness still couldn't stop seeping into the warm room. flesh.

Her eyes slowly turned red, and she kept thinking about the scene when she and Natalie laughed loudly in the bar when they were working together, and kept thinking about that desperate night when Jacques huddled in the corner and smiled at herself with all his strength. I don't understand why all the happy moments are always so short, going round and round to the end, and the rest is always a fateful parting. My parents are like this when I was young, and so are my friends when I grow up.

Thinking wildly like this, the urgency and anxiety about Jacques' situation and the sadness of his friend's departure turned into a sense of sadness and vicissitudes.

Outside the gloomy building was the same gloomy sky. Emily was silent for a long time, then suddenly sucked her nose heavily. She rubbed her stiff face before quickly walking towards the Chevrolet waiting for her.

"How is it?" MOrgan opened the passenger seat door for her and asked.

Emily came back to her senses, shook her head, and said, "I still think something is wrong. If Natalie was facing the window and the bullet shot from the other building knocked her down, her wound might have been smaller. Moreover, Morgan, the bullet they're looking for is a .0.45 caliber ACP round."

"ACP bomb?" Morgan was taken aback, stopped turning the car key, and reconfirmed, "That should be equipped with Colt, right?"

"But in actual combat, someone will separate them. The Colt M1911 or the later improved version of M1911A plus the ACP bomb may have the strongest lethality, but it may not be applicable to any situation." Emily gnawed in distress. Pointing his thumb, he said, "Ignoring the wind speed, humidity and the rotation of the earth at that time, can you knock down a female soldier who came back from Syria with a gun from World War II three miles away?"

Of course not.But Morgan understood the meaning of Emily's words, he thought about it, and started the Chevrolet first.

The car drove all the way to the FBI building. The weather was getting colder. The pedestrians on the road put on heavy winter clothes early, but they were still so cold that they tucked their heads into their scarves. The mechanical swing leaves a little drop of water.

Emily sighed, broke the silence in the car, and said: "I always feel that the suspect faked the scene, although from the photos, the glass was indeed broken from the outside, but at that time Los Angeles was in the midst of a massacre, and it was night again. , nobody would have noticed the gunshot, and then Natalie came back, unsuspecting, and was shot at point-blank range by the suspect hiding in the apartment."

"Natalie came back from Syria, and she found out that she was being followed very early, so she wouldn't be unaware." Morgan frowned and retorted, "It's a pity that the wound is too big, the effect of such a large-caliber ACP bullet and a small gun □The effect of exploding inside the body is no different. The cavity on the autopsy report can't judge the shooting distance at all."

"How do you know?" Emily wondered.

Morgan pointed to the PDA handheld terminal thrown on the rear seat with his chin, and the page on it was still on the latest autopsy report.

Apparently Garcia has received the report and forwarded it to every member.

Emily rested her forehead tiredly, she forgot about the forensic doctor who was full of weird energy.

**

"I agree with Emily's idea." Reid put the newly developed photo on the table, pushed it to Morgan who had just returned, and said, "Because the cause of death of Agent Levine is exactly the same as that of Natalie."

Looking at the blurry photos, Morgan mused, "Then why did he spend so much time faking the scene? And, to be honest, we don't even know his motives right now."

Rossi reached out and rubbed his temples, closed his eyes and said slowly: "At least we now know that the people who framed Jacques for collusion with Russia and murdered those two agents are not the same people."

Emily glanced at Rossi unexpectedly, then turned her gaze to JJ, JJ explained: "Trace asked his friend to send us a photo of Levine's evidence, including a bullet that was converted by Colt... ..."

Morgan and Emily looked at each other, and answered in unison: "ACP bomb!"

JJ was slightly taken aback, nodded, and said, "Yes, 0.45 caliber ACP bullets."

Reid said hoarsely: "The production of this batch of bullets stopped after World War II. All the existing ones were eliminated by East Germany and resold to Syria. It is generally difficult to find the source of this kind of bullets that have been changed many times." .”

MOrgan asked: "Is it possible that Jacques and his team did something in Syria, uh, and then they were maliciously retaliated against? By the way, Garcia, have you found out about the mysterious Dean Tavoularis?"

Garcia heard someone calling her name, and raised her head from the computer in a daze. She yawned tiredly, and looked around at her watching teammates at a loss.

Morgan felt a little distressed, and repeated softly: "Babygirl, that Dean Tavoularis."

"Oh, oh, I found it." Garcia rubbed his eyes and said, "Jacques only deleted the information on his last mission, but the others are easier to find."

"Like?" Morgan asked.

Garcia directly turned on the big screen, she stood up, and said: "Dean Tavoularis, after graduating from high school, entered Boston University to major in group criminal psychology and chemical science and engineering. During his sophomore year, he went to Twilav University to study Middle East studies as a special staff member. After returning home, he joined Marines, retired to join the FBI, sent to Syria, died on last mission."

The man in the photo has a neat short cut, deep and charming eye sockets, and his brown eyes are like amber shining with sunlight. He is wearing a dark green straight military uniform, with a strong physique and a tall physique. Makes people feel dangerous.

Garcia continued: "In terms of social relations, it's even simpler. His parents agreed to a divorce in middle school, and Dean Tavoularis lived with his grandfather. After college, he had a fiancée, but the two broke off their engagement during the Syrian mission, and there was no one after that. Relevant records of his social connections."

Morgan narrowed his eyes and asked again, "What about that mission?"

Reid's slender and pale fingers tapped the table lightly and rhythmically, making crisp sounds. He thought for a while and said, "The description in the information he gave is very simple. An unknown local force has besieged a group of five from our side. Patrol, and Aurore Clement, who was Jacques's boss at the time, hoped that Dean Tavoularis would lead his team to rescue the five."

"They failed?"

"No, the mission was successful." Reid shook his head slightly, and said, "Everyone returned to the camp successfully, only Dean Tavoularis, the house was resettled, and he couldn't escape."

JJ suddenly asked: "What did Jacques delete?"

Everyone was startled, and when they thought about it carefully, they realized that the report could actually be regarded as rigorous, but as long as they thought carefully, they could still find some illogical points.

"For example, all the actions they took after receiving the mission and rushing to the corresponding location did not have instructions from Dean Tavoularis. For example, the soldiers who responded at that time reminded them that the house had already been installed□□ but they still ignored the warning and went in. Another example , " Reid propped his chin and muttered, "The descriptions of the number of forces and the lethality of weapons are all the words 'informed' or 'known', I suspect that there should be someone among them, he or she acts as The role of internal and external communication."

As he spoke, he gradually fell silent, and after a long time, he opened his mouth and said: "These things are not mentioned in the reports found by the CIA and Caldwell, nor in Jafferson's information."

The doctor looked extremely tired, but he just closed his eyes and quietly stared at the overexposed and blurred photos on the desktop.

He resumed the silent posture again, leaning on the back of the chair like Jacques used to rest his chin when he was thinking, and fell into his complicated thoughts.

**

"You want to see me?" William smiled slightly. He loosened the first button of his shirt that was tightly fastened around his neck. asked the young man.

Jacques glanced slightly sideways, the room was empty, only the clock hanging on the wall was ticking, he was a little dazed, silent for a long time, then turned his head to face up to the timetable which was counted by seconds but came in a hurry because of his own words Members of Parliament.

William slowed down the movement of picking up the cigarettes on the table. He stared closely at the young man's calm eyes, and felt that time was turning back again. At that time, Jacques was still a child. Old man, whenever you look into his eyes, that gloomy gaze will pierce the most secret place in your heart like a sharp sword.

He shook his head, hummed softly, picked up the lighter next to his glasses to light a cigarette, and said vaguely: "I don't know why, but I always feel that this is you, who is laughing and laughing all day long. Girls are joking, aren't you tired of pretending?"

Jacques coughed secretly. Even though he didn't speak, William could still hear his hoarse voice. The councilor turned his eyes to the slow-burning cigarette between his fingers, frowned and said, "If you quit smoking, don't smoke again." , wouldn’t it be nice to cherish your life a little more? I must be like yours..."

like your mother.

William stopped talking abruptly. He glanced at the young man quickly, and found that he was still in that indifferent manner. A wave of anger surged up in his heart for no reason, and he said in a raised tone: "Back then..."

The words just started, the young man raised his head and glanced at him, and said, "If it wasn't for me, she wouldn't have died."

William choked, lowered his head and took a deep puff of the cigarette, choking all of a sudden, coughing violently, with tears slowly seeping from the corners of his eyes, looking extremely embarrassed.

Jacques said lightly: "A man once told me a story, saying that when he was a child, he often imagined that he was an adventurer, carrying his own sword to slay dragons and save the common people."

William calmed down. He squinted his eyes and looked at the young man through the pale and empty smoke, as if he was looking at countless confidential documents on the desk every day.

"Then I suddenly remembered that when I was a child, there seemed to be such a samurai sword at home, hanging on the wall of the study, but later..." Jacques paused, and then continued, "After the funeral, there is no more I've seen it."

"Stories are always just stories." An inexplicable sadness appeared on William's face, and he said in that annoying tone full of memories, "You can't live in your own fantasy."

Jacques nodded knowingly, and said, "Yes, she said the same."

"She's your mother."

"But I never expected her to be my mother."

William smiled and shook his head: "Say something childish."

"No, I'm serious." Jacques whispered.

"What are you trying to say?" William said, crushing the butt out of the cigarette in the ashtray, "Or did you call me here just to tell that, that bullshit story?"

"Oh, stories." Jacques suddenly said, "No, no, I want to say that some people regard stories as comfort, while others regard stories as life."

William didn't speak quietly, his eyes flashed with impatience.

"I've read the letters you wrote." Jacques exhaled softly the ethereal smoke, and said, "After I slayed that evil dragon, the sun finally rose, and those warm and holy lights shone on the earth, you come here hold my..."

"Enough, stop talking!" William stood up abruptly and shouted loudly.

This is simply too shameful, but it is even more angry, as if someone has moved his cherished and carefully guarded dreams to the public, mocked them, and trampled them mercilessly under their feet.

Jacques looked at him quietly, and asked coldly: "The girl is gone, and the dragon is gone. Are you doing this for your own psychological comfort? Oh, or is it self-deception?"

The young man threw the cigarette butt between his fingers into the ashtray, turned on the lighter with a "snap" and lit another one, as if he didn't notice the tense and oppressive atmosphere in the narrow interrogation room.

He continued: "So what if you took Mueller down? It was never because of you that she chose to leave."

"Then I still have the right at least." William replied calmly. He stood up, buttoned the button of his neck again, and said, "The dragon slayer is going forward alone for the light to return to the earth, not just Just for that girl. Jacob, you won't understand, you're too young."

The congressman put his hand on the doorknob, then turned around suddenly and said, "Hmph, if you have been sentenced to a heavy sentence, don't worry, my child. I may find a relationship to relieve you, after all, life in prison is too difficult. .”

"Are you pitying me?" Jacques chuckled incredulously, and said, "Instead of spending time pitying me, why don't you think about what I'm seeing you for? You don't really think I'm just here to catch up with you, do you?" ?”

William raised his eyebrows, with a gloomy face, walked quickly to him, and whispered: "Don't play tricks on me, Jacques, you have known me for a long time."

Jacques coughed a few times from the smoke in the room, he pushed William's face away from him weakly, and said annoyedly, "What tricks can I play with you?"

"Then what do you mean?"

Jacques looked at him inch by inch, his eyes gradually cleared up, he seemed to have become that giggling young man again, he smiled and said, "You haven't found the murderer yet, have you?"

"Don't you want to know why we worked so hard just to bring back a few pieces of paper with the history of the world?" Just a Russian phone call and recording is enough to make me so excited? It’s like trying to cover me with a Russian hat, William, you are too impatient, if you wait patiently, until the final result comes out..."

"You will find that you are as ridiculous as a marionette," the young man said, "more ridiculous than your so-called dragon-slaying boy."

William looked down at this little brat, his pupils dilated slightly because of nervousness or anger, and he gritted his teeth and said, "What about you? How can you be better? Jacques, that sword has always been in your house." It's hanging on the wall of the study, why, don't you know? Look at you, how pitiful you are, you dare not even enter your own home, you can only stand outside and watch from a distance. "

The calm and self-possessed congressman on TV and newspapers smiled coldly: "You will always be just a coward, just like your cowardly father!"

After finishing speaking, he turned around and slammed the door with a loud "bang" and left.

The sound of breathing in the room suddenly weakened, slowly dissolving into the air like the sound of the lonely clock on the wall.

The young man raised his head slightly, glanced at the dark monitor on the corner of the wall, twitched the corner of his mouth, and lowered his head to take a puff of a cigarette.

"Squeak", the door opened.

"You know who the killer is?" Caldwell asked.

Jacques propped his forehead, leaned on the chair with his slender fingers and shook the cigarette. The dusty ash fell silently and landed on the shiny black leather shoes, like snowflakes that had half melted in muddy water.

"I got it now."

"then you……"

"Caldwell, the charges of collusion with Russia are just nonsense. In theory, this is pure revenge." The young man smiled and said, "Natalie is the second, and Levine is the third, agent, wish me well luck."

"good luck?"

"Bless me for not being the fourth."