Jack's perspective was less pessimistic. "Rourke probably isn't completely insane yet. He clearly has a target. Don't forget the package of narcotics he stole from the safe in the District Attorney's office—it was a sample of extremely high purity."
"Are you saying he might choose assassination?" Jubal's eyes flickered in thought. As mentioned before, narcotics can be used not only to get high but also to kill. Just two milligrams of high-purity phenolphthalein can be lethal.
There was an extreme case where a narcotics smuggling vessel, being pursued by the Coast Guard, dropped a large amount of high-purity phenolphthalein. The substance washed ashore, damaged by the packaging, and the entire beach was covered in this dangerous substance.
An unsuspecting tourist, simply walking across the beach, was killed when their shell-scarred soles came into contact with the high-purity phenolphthalein.
"If he has another target, maybe Samuel Gray knows something." Jubal tossed the car keys to Aubrey, indicating he would be the driver.
So everyone split up, leaving Alice to rest at the motel. Jack led the rest of the group in two cars. After contacting the ASP, they headed for Mount Crist.
As Arkansas State Police, the ASP isn't just about the hard-charging highway police; it also has a criminal investigation division, though it's not as well-known online as their Dodge Charger-driving counterparts.
When the FBI arrived, several plainclothes detectives were leading several teams of officers, working with the local sheriff's office to conduct door-to-door inquiries.
It was clear that the residents were quite accommodating of the sheriff, some even opening their doors to let them in.
"We've found the Tahoe! It's in a backyard," the sheriff, wearing a cowboy hat, put down his walkie-talkie and waved to the FBI.
The ASP detectives were no less efficient than their Highway Department counterparts. By the time Jack and his team arrived at the house he'd mentioned, following the sheriff's car, they'd already broken into the house and conducted a thorough search.
"We've found a body inside!" a sheriff's assistant trotted over to his superior.
A few minutes later, the sheriff, looking at the body slumped in the living room, choked his lips. "I know this guy. Chip or something. This is his house."
The deceased was a white man in his early fifties, wearing glasses, with a graying beard and a completely bald head. He had been shot multiple times in the chest, and the carpet beneath him was completely stained red with blood.
Seeing several bullet holes in the carpet next to the body, Clay and Hannah donned gloves, lifted the carpet next to the body, and dug a bullet out of the wooden floor.
".22 LR pistol round. Probably Rourke," Clay recognized the bullet type immediately.
"What does Chip do? Is he connected to the Forrest Court or Rourke?" Jiejie asked the local sheriff.
The sheriff shook his head. "I don't know. He's just an ordinary guy, a quiet guy. He seems to work for a medical company."
"Here's his driver's license." Jack handed a wallet from the doorway to Hannah, who was holding a tablet.
"Chip Fox, 52 years old, twice divorced, single, with no criminal record, works as a technician at a medical laboratory called 'Health Promotion.'"
Hannah quickly looked up his information, a puzzled look on her face. "Why would Rourke kill him?"
"I don't know. Search online for information about him and check his social media accounts," Jack said, pulling out his phone.
Jubal and Aubrey had also apprehended the hacker, Samuel Gray. According to him, Rourke had threatened to revoke his probation, forcing him to hack into the Court of Appeal's server and obtain all the "JNE" questionnaires.
This aligns with the FBI's assumptions, but the hacker also revealed something else: just yesterday afternoon, Rourke had approached him again and tasked him with hacking into the "Health Promotion" medical laboratory to retrieve the company's employee list.
"What on earth is he trying to do?" Jubal was puzzled when Jack explained that a deceased individual had just been found employed by the same laboratory.
The documentation indicated that the "Health Promotion" laboratory was a standard medical facility, providing testing for common illnesses and not stocking any high-risk pathogens.
Chip Fox was merely a technician, performing duties similar to those of a male nurse in a hospital. Jubal was baffled as to why Rourke targeted him.
"Jack, I might have found something," Hannah handed the tablet to Jack, and the others gathered around.
"There's a report on the local news website, which is the only public information about the name Chip Fox. It says that he personally tested Governor Sarah Huckabee Sanders for influenza at St. Michael's Hospital in Little Rock last week."
"Governor? Are you saying that Chip Fox has access to the governor?" Jubal on the other end of the phone was a little confused.
Arkansas, a Republican stronghold, has produced many prominent Democratic politicians, such as Louisville. However, since the 1970s, the state legislature has been largely controlled by the Republican Party.
Current Governor Sarah Huckabee Sanders, who is just in her early 40s, hails from a long-established local political family and served for several years as a press secretary for the White House.
Naturally, the pressure on this prominent figure in the press office can be imagined. Two years later, Sanders resigned, citing family needs.
After leaving office, she returned to Arkansas and, while raising her family, ran for gubernatorial election, becoming the state's first female governor, a résumé even more impressive than Zoe Huckabee's.
Of course, if Zoe Huckabee can successfully secure a Senate seat before turning 40, that would be another matter.
"As governor, Sanders has the power to select judges on the state Court of Appeals, so it's no surprise that she's a target for Rourke's wrath. The question is, how will he do it?"
The answer seemed obvious, but Jubal couldn't figure out how Rourke planned to approach the Governor, surrounded by her heavily guarded wife. It would be much more difficult than storming a school with an automatic weapon.
"Impersonating Chip Fox, of course." Jack pulled up a photo of Rourke on his tablet, obscuring his chin and sparsely haired forehead.
Hannah's mouth dropped open in disgrace. "Ah, with a clean shaven head, a mask, and glasses, even someone familiar wouldn't be able to tell them apart, right? Rourke isn't much of a judge, so why is he so skilled at planning something like this?" "Perhaps it's the little experience he gained during his long career as a junior judge,"
Jack quipped. Some people are just like that: incapable of serious work, yet adept at treachery.
"Jubal, contact the Governor's office immediately and ask if he's getting a nasal swab for the flu today. If Rourke sprinkles a cotton swab with enough phenolphthalein powder, it could kill her in minutes."
The wind howled, and the nearby scenery on both sides of the highway vanished past the car window at a speed barely discernible to the naked eye. Clay clutched his seatbelt with one hand, the other tightly gripping the window handle, his eyes nervously closed.
"Jack, I don't think Rourke can escape with those ASPs around."
No one would believe this. A highly trained special forces soldier, capable of leaping from 10,000 meters without batting an eyelid, had just been horrified by two consecutive sharp turns.
After all, during a HALO (high-altitude low-drop), the parachute cord is held in one's hand. But while Jack was navigating a series of turns at 220 kilometers per hour, he could only passively sit in the passenger seat, watching the past unfold before his eyes.
"But they're behind us now," Jack said flatly, glancing in the rearview mirror.
Behind the Dodge Charger they'd "robbed," a line of similar ASP models followed, lights flashing and sirens blaring, seemingly resentful of being upstaged.
Clay stared suspiciously at the Ford F-150 driven by the suspect, Rourke, and then glanced sideways in the right rearview mirror. He was surprised to see that in the blink of an eye, Jack had already overtaken the other car, swerving through two consecutive curves without slowing down, and was now in front of the entire ASP fleet.
Time flashed back ten minutes.
The governor of Arkansas had a charity fundraising dinner tonight. To attend, she had to take time out of her busy schedule and, accompanied by her bodyguards, visit St. Michael's Hospital for a nasal swab test.
Don't be fooled by America's dismal performance in a global pandemic in another reality; those in the upper echelons of society are generally more cautious about their lives.
Attending social gatherings with a test report is standard practice. Wearing a mask isn't crucial, but as long as everyone present has been tested and cleared, the risk of infection is significantly reduced.
Jubal's call was timely. By the time the governor's office secretary contacted the governor, her bulletproof SUV had just pulled into the hospital parking lot.
The nasal swab testing site was located within the parking lot. Having received the warning, the bodyguards immediately rolled up the windows, turned the steering wheel, and sped away.
Meanwhile, Rourke, disguised as a staff member wearing a blue isolation suit and a mask, holding a poison swab, was about to approach when he was nearly run over by the governor's bulletproof SUV.
Sensing the situation, the former judge reacted quickly, ripping off his isolation suit and sprinting with agility belying his age, towards a Ford Raptor pickup truck parked nearby.
This vehicle, the one he had stolen from Chip Fox's house, contained the hospital parking pass and the ID card pinned to his chest—the keys to successfully impersonating him and gaining access to the governor to poison him.
(End of Chapter)