massacre?

On the Gobi Desert where the police lights shining, there were five corpses lying in front of the weekend, but there were only two shells beside these five corpses.

In other words, these people were killed in one encounter.

I didn't analyze how the battle happened on the weekend, but saw two sets of footprints next to the corpse. He measured it with his pace. The strides of these two sets of footprints did not seem to be caused by walking or fighting. The footprints did not have any interruptions or reversals, which proved that they were not involved in the battle at all, otherwise there would be interruptions, and there might be signs of jumping and emergency stops. But these two sets of footprints were too smooth, and they seemed to run over without any obstacles...

What are the footprints of the killer's retreat after killing someone?

It is not very similar. Most of the killer's footprints are around the car, and those footprints have obvious connections. From this, it can be seen that after the killer kills the person, he returns according to the same route when he comes. The round trip route is very clear, and there is even overlapping footprints.

Tony!

It must be him.

"Director, what is the caliber of the F-pin pistol?"

In order to confirm his speculation on the weekend, I walked to the front of the car and picked up more than a dozen bullet shells that no one paid attention to, asking.

"0.40in." Derek walked over from the corpse, reached out to pick up the bullet shell on the ground and said, "This is not a bullet from the f-pinch, it is a 9mm bullet. If I read it correctly, it should be 9*19mm."

"Can you see it at a glance?"

Derek responded: "If you like guns and you like to study bullets, you will know that the f-pin Glock bullet is different from ordinary Glock bullets, just like the f-pin used mp5a6 for a period of time, and most of the ones you can buy on the market are mp5a5." The so-called "you can see at a glance that it has little to do with the caliber, after all, 0.40in is just about 10mm.

"D, now it's almost certain that the two masters from F-sisters have met with the Mexicans."

Derek nodded when he heard this, took out the phone and quickly dialed the number. When the phone was dialed, he didn't give the other party any chance to speak at all and said first: "Where is the latest mobile phone location?"

"Where is the helicopter?"

"If you don't want to find that Italian, just say, are you counting on us Montek policemen walking all over the Gobi with your legs?"

After scolding Derek, he hung up the phone directly, simple and crude, ignoring the f-small ss-like feeling. Anyway, he will be satisfied first.

"Everyone listened, checked the body armor, and the officer in the co-pilot's position held the gun in his hand."

Derek's face showed a trace of solemnity. With his years of military experience, he could see what was going on without analyzing the scene traces on the weekend. The black man who got mp5 must be the first to die. The cause of death was that his firepower was stronger than a pistol. If he didn't die, it would be a huge trouble. The second one died was the black man who had no time to fight back. His death gave the third dead man, which means that the black man with only one shell around him had a chance to fight back. Obviously, he didn't hit, otherwise there would be blood on the ground; the last one died must be Evan Basdale, who ran the farthest and had even given up resistance.

Everything in front of us is not limited to the crimes of criminals. Their patrolmen are facing special forces with sufficient practical experience. Such guys should be handed over to the border army to deal with it, not the police!

Bee, bee, bee.

Derek's phone rang. After opening it, the picture transmitted from above was a mobile phone positioning. The old director who didn't know how to use his smartphone was swaying in the office while running, throwing his stomach out of the office and diving into the car over the weekend. He used the comparison of the pictures on his mobile phone with the GPS in the car and concluded that they were not far from the location.

"Turn off the police lights!"

Before Derek could say anything, he had already arrived at the police car on the weekend. He looked at the GPS car map and said, "It's less than a mile away?"

"Are they still or are they moving?"

Bee, bee, bee.

Derek's phone rang: "D, these two bastards sent me a photo of bald heads. You must find them quickly. In the photo, the bald head is walking forward, not fast."

"Get on the bus, hurry!"

"Everyone gets in the car!!"

After Derek hung up the phone again, he opened the car door and got in on the weekend. The remaining patrolmen all ran into the car. Three police cars led the garbage dump manager in the trunk to push their headlights all the way to the Gobi in the middle of the night.

Derek, a person with experience in the battlefield, is already measuring and avoiding casualties from his own people. Otherwise, he would not have turned off the police car with the lights. Otherwise, in the dark Gobi Desert, the police who were shook by the lights will immediately become a living target.

...

"Where are they going?"

Tony walked along the far end - following the bald head, but the bald head seemed to have no intention of stopping, and had actually walked in the Gobi Desert for so long.

"Why didn't I just shoot?"

The partner asked softly.

"ye, I should cooperate with you. We each shot the bald and the small Mexican, and then we squatted on the Gobi Desert and asked the corpse silly, 'Hey, where did you hide the drugs'."

"Now you're not a tracking expert?"

"**, the tracking effect is determined by the continuity of clues. As long as there is a lack of a clue in the process, the possibility of connecting again is almost zero. This is the Gobi Desert, and there is wind and sand, not a city full of cameras."

“dude.”

"asshole."

The two men with bald heads hanging from afar were fighting with mosquitoes, and Tony's partner still chose to fight in the shortest language until...

When the bald head walked around the wall of the earth in front, Tony saw a garbage recycling vehicle diagonally behind him. Next to the vehicle, there were two Mexicans sitting there resting, and the weapon these two Mexicans were holding was ak47.

"Finally found it."

Tony took a photo with his mobile phone about two hundred meters away from the car. The photo effect was not ideal. Even though the focal length had been pushed to the closest distance, it still looked a little blurry. But it doesn't matter. What's important is that Tony found the garbage recycling car.

"How many drugs can this guy hold?"

Tony stuck out his tongue and licked his lips and said this. All of this in front of him was enough to increase his salary!

At this time, the bald head had already arrived next to the garbage recycling truck.

"Leave now."

The bald opponent issued an order: "The boss said that this batch of goods will be shipped to Houston first, and there will be a car to pick us up on the way, and we will change the car then."

"How far?"

The Mexican man holding the ak47 and leaning against the door of the garbage truck asked.

"The oil in the mailbox is enough to support the car change." The bald man didn't leak any breath. After just responding casually, the small Mexican came over with food for four people.

"Can't you eat first and leave?"

"Don't say hello nonsense!" The bald man glared and cursed: "If you don't want to leave, you can choose to stay. Maybe it's a few hours, maybe it's an hour later, the Montek police and F-pillows, and the Dea people can come here to race against you with helicopters."

"Or else, roll me into the garbage truck and eat."

Wow.

The wind and sand floated along the night sky, and a few rays of lights in the distance were exploring forward. Three cars that could not see clearly at night were gradually approaching.

"**, get in the car, hurry!"

Dada, dada, dada.

The gunshots came again, and the muzzles that were constantly flashing around 150 meters instantly tear apart the darkness of the night.

"F-fat! You are surrounded!"

Tony's voice rang out in the distance, the huge garbage recycling vehicle that his muzzle was aiming at, and behind the mountain bag, his partner was running quickly with a gun...

Bump.

Tony is close to power and shoots the doors of garbage recycling vehicles that are easier to lock in the target, hoping to delay the speed of these Mexicans getting on the car. After all, it is much easier to shoot the stationary door than shooting the mobile people, not to mention that it is only 150 meters away.

"It's there!"
Chapter completed!