Chapter 21: Chi-Chi Fate
"The FBI's jurisdiction is already broad, and they encounter many difficult cases. Female FBI agents face even greater challenges, and cases like your niece's will undoubtedly be extremely difficult and complex."
Seeing that Helen was still trying to match him and Jane, Chuck turned his gaze and said seriously, "I'm a forensic accountant, and I enjoy difficult cases."
"Oh."
Helen agreed with Chuck's analysis and closed the door with concern.
As a family member, this was not good news.
Chuck returned to his online chess game.
He was speaking the truth.
People who look like Jane Banner are most likely important characters in American TV series and movies. Even newcomers like her have a much higher chance of encountering difficult cases than others.
Not to mention that this hybrid American TV world is full of dangerous criminals, and many law enforcement officers with looks like Jane Banner attract unwanted attention.
It's not uncommon for trouble to find you even when you're off duty.
So Chuck didn't hesitate to give her his business card.
The chess game lasted until after work.
Chuck typed a few words on the screen, which went black, and the previous game reappeared on his phone.
Chuck cleaned up and went out with his phone, nodding to Helen, who stood up and looked over.
Helen quickly followed, locked the door, and drove Chuck home.
The villa was located halfway up the mountain, one of the most remote residences in the town, a kilometer away from the nearest neighbors.
Helen remembered it as a perfect match for her boss Chuck's quiet personality.
When they arrived, Chuck got out of the car and let Helen go.
Although Helen wanted to invite Chuck to dinner with them that evening, she thought about having a good chat with her niece that evening, so she kept quiet and drove away.
Chuck opened the door and walked in, checking everything, then went to the garage and drove off in his large pickup truck.
He was going to the farm for target practice tomorrow, and he needed to prepare some equipment.
Driving along, they arrived at a self-storage facility. He reached out and entered the code, and the gate opened automatically. He drove inside, arriving at a warehouse unit. He pressed the key fob, and the door swung open. Chuck drove his pickup truck straight in, closing the door behind him.
The warehouse was suddenly plunged into darkness.
Chuck got out and turned on the lights, revealing a silver travel trailer. He opened the door with the key and found it furnished like a home—compact but well-equipped.
The bedroom was in the front.
Chuck took a quick look and headed for the trailer's rear compartment. Opening it, he saw an impressive sight.
Rows of various firearms covered the walls, from heavy sniper rifles to various handguns. In the middle, boxes of ammunition were stored.
Chuck glanced around, his eyes settling on a large rifle.
It was a Barrett .50 caliber sniper rifle!
The restless energy of his severe autism brought a rare smile to his face when he saw his beloved heavy sniper rifle.
Chuck took the Barrett and handled it while continuing his unfinished chess game on his phone. He felt completely relaxed and content.
That night, Chuck didn't return to the forest villa, but slept directly in the RV. After completing his nightly routine to build tolerance to bright light and noise, he lay in bed, looking at the famous Pollock painting hanging on the ceiling. His eyelids slowly closed and he fell into a deep sleep.
Compared to the forest villa, which gave the impression of being relatively normal in order to blend in with the small town residents, this RV, equipped with various weapons and ready to be driven away at any time, was his true preferred residence.
The next morning.
Chuck drove up to the Anderson farm in his pickup truck.
The Andersons, though surprised, greeted him warmly.
Chuck told them not to worry and found a spot about a mile away, where he set up a baseball launcher. Then, he returned, retrieved his beloved Barrett .50 caliber sniper rifle from the truck, and, lying on the lawn, began to aim through the scope.
Inside the farmhouse, Mr. Anderson was looking over through binoculars. He was stunned when he saw the heavy sniper rifle Chuck had pulled out.
As a farmer, even if this wasn't Texas, he knew his firearms well and used them frequently.
But they mostly used shotguns and hunting rifles, never seeing such a powerful weapon.
Fortunately, he recognized Chuck as a good person and didn't think much of it. He continued to observe through the binoculars. Seeing Chuck place the targets so far away, he couldn't help but shake his head and chuckle, joking to his wife, "It seems some people have watched too many Western movies and think everyone's Annie Oakley."
Chuck pressed the remote control button, and three baseballs flew out, rolling several times before landing on the ground with various expressions.
Someone had used a marker to draw simple faces onto the white baseballs, creating basic emojis.
Some were smiley, some were sad, some were neutral.
Mr. Anderson, in the house, also saw these faces through his binoculars and couldn't help but chuckle again.
Then, a sharp gunshot rang out, and his smile froze.
Through the binoculars, he saw the smiley baseball shatter instantly.
The explosive impact was startling.
As a farmer, Mr. Anderson was shocked not by the violence, but by the precision of the long-range sniper shot.
Remember, it was a full mile away!
BOOM! BOOM!
As he stared in amazement, through the binoculars, two other baseballs, representing sad and neutral expressions, were also blasted apart with precise shots.
Just before the final gunshot, a car pulled onto the farm's driveway.
"Monica, I can't believe you didn't tell me how Chi-Chi really died," the lanky young man in the passenger seat complained to the dark-haired woman driving.
"I can't believe you're this old, and you know white lies exist, but you can't understand the white lies our parents told us to comfort us when we were little." The attractive Monica, fed up with her brother Ross's constant complaints, retorted, "Anderson Farm in upstate New York? Horses and fields to run in? Think about it, would your parents drive all the way upstate just for Chi-Chi? There are farms nearby, and they told you it was so far away to stop you from begging to visit him."
"But that's Chi-Chi, our beloved childhood pet."
The lanky young man, Ross, now understood the transparency of his parents' lies, but he still couldn't accept the truth.
"I had enough free time that I drove you here to see for yourself. What else do you want?" Monica complained.
"Maybe Chi-Chi is still here?" the lanky young man, Ross, asked hopefully.
"That depends on whether this is a Hallmark movie or a Stephen King novel," his sister Monica said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. She stopped in front of the farmhouse and got out of the car. Just as she was about to walk over to ask, she heard the booming sound of a Barrett .50 caliber sniper rifle.
(End of this chapter)
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