Investigation Underway

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Beta knelt beside the sand table and pressed a copper marker into the roof of a building model 4,212 meters in a straight line from the helipad.

He pulled out a tape measure. The metal blade snapped open with a swish, and he easily measured the straight-line distance from the building to the helipad. Converted according to scale, it came to about 4,332 meters, with a reasonable margin of error of ±12 meters.

The building offered the best shooting position, but Beta couldn't tell whether the Indian merchant's security team would secure the area in advance. He could only hope the merchant didn't have enough influence to make French security go to such lengths as deploying guards in a building this far from the airport.

Beta took out a label, neatly wrote down the shooting distance, and stuck it to the nylon cord representing the bullet's trajectory.

John stood beside the sand table and asked, "Are you confident about a shot from this distance?"

Beta straightened up and pulled out a file. "According to the employer's intelligence, after the 3,800-meter long-range kill on Downing Street, the target's security team acquired and deployed a Russian Sosna-N laser counter-sniper system. It can actively scan for and identify glints from rifle scopes, but its maximum effective detection range is three kilometers. There's a gap."

He flipped through the rest of the file. "Given my track record, the target's security team worked with French security to extend the perimeter to a radius of 3.5 kilometers. Every building and position within that perimeter with a direct line of sight to the VIP terminal has been brought under surveillance."

Beta said, "At 4,332 meters, even a supersonic bullet takes six seconds to reach its target. The margin for error in calculating the trajectory and wind drift is measured in millimeters."

Beta sank into the sofa, folded his arms behind his head, and fixed his gaze on the miniature city beneath the lights. "But that's what makes it interesting."

MI6 Analysis Room.

Mei Wa braced both hands on the edge of the sand table, her eyes fixed on the red nylon cord marking Killer β's firing trajectory.

The red line stretched from the top of a miniature sixty-story skyscraper. Supported by several transparent acrylic rods, it traced a precise three-dimensional ballistic arc above the sand table. The cord crossed the table horizontally, then rose in a steep curve through the air. The entire trajectory looked like a beam of light bent by space, linking the sniper's position to the target on Downing Street.

The case had made no progress. The only information about β in the file was still that cold codename.

She had originally thought that the height and weight estimates from the Forest Club's trace analyst would offer a breakthrough. But after the Eliot case, all their assumptions had been overturned. β had disguised himself as a short, fat fugitive wanted by the police, which meant the clues they'd found were useless.

It wasn't until MI6 got involved that the fugitive was quickly apprehended. The missing little girl was also rescued after the task force tracked her down, and she was still receiving psychological treatment in the hospital.

Perhaps the file should include one more detail: β might have a dwarf accomplice.

Some people in the department had questioned whether the "little girl" who tricked the security guard into opening the door in the Eliot case might have been an actual child. But the theory was quickly dismissed: no child could remain so terrifyingly calm after witnessing a close-range shooting.

After knocking, her deputy walked in and reported, "Chief, the 'Mosquito Catcher Operation' has yielded results."

Mei Wa took the report and quickly scanned it. "It says they found DNA from twenty-three unidentified people, none of whom were at the scene?"

"That's right. The DNA could have come from hikers, trekkers, bicycle tourists, visitors, people camping outdoors, anglers... All sorts of people might have been there."

"Can we find any of them?" Mei Wa pressed.

Her deputy shook his head. "Not a single one. There are practically no surveillance cameras around the crime scene, so we haven't been able to find any leads."

Mei Wa set the report on the desk. "Then how are we supposed to identify β among these twenty-three unknown DNA samples? Are all of them genetically British?"

Her deputy nodded. "Yes, all of them."

Mei Wa irritably rubbed her temples and ordered, "Send people out to find them at once! Don't let a single person who passed through the area slip by. Make a big show of the investigation! If we still can't find someone, then the one we can't find is β."

Her deputy nodded at once. "Understood, Chief!"

Mei Wa sank deep into her chair, the leather creaking faintly.

Her deputy stood there, hesitating. "Chief..."

"Speak." Mei Wa kept her eyes closed, her fingertips tapping lightly on the armrest.

"β may not have left any DNA evidence at all. After all, he's a professional." Her deputy chose his words carefully.

Mei Wa opened her eyes. "Taking action is always better than waiting. Carry out the order."

"Yes, Chief." Her deputy stood straight.

Mei Wa raised a hand. "Wait. Has there been any progress on the 'Jackal' case Bianca is handling?"

Her deputy closed the door again. "Bianca reported a lead from an informant. She's identified the gunsmith who supplied weapons to Jackal. Headquarters approved her request to lead a team on an in-depth investigation."

"What about β's weapons?" Mei Wa tapped her fingertips on the desk. "A .50-caliber anti-materiel rifle and a standard-issue sniper rifle the military records say was destroyed. Those aren't things you can just buy on the black market."

Her deputy opened his notebook. "We've traced the .50-caliber rifle to an underground arms dealer and are investigating. As for the 'destroyed' standard-issue rifle, Military Department records show it was scrapped and melted down. The trail has gone completely cold."

"Knock, knock."

A hurried knock interrupted them. Her deputy opened the door, and another agent from the task force stood outside.

"Report, Chief." The agent hurried in. "The Forest Club murder weapon has been found in the Yorkshire Lake District. An angler's hook caught a rifle lying on the lakebed, and the local police handed it over to us."

Mei Wa immediately held out her hand. "Give me the forensic report."

She quickly flipped through the file. The report showed:

Primary weapon: Mauser rifle (source under investigation)

Secondary weapon: assembled from parts of two antique pistols (source confirmed by comparing images on a collector's website; seller in custody)

"Notify Scotland Yard." Mei Wa closed the file. "That Mauser must have come from a private collection too. We were monitoring all underground arms deals in the United Kingdom at the time. The only possible source for a weapon like this is an unregulated gun-collecting club."

"Chief!" Another agent hurried to the doorway.

"Go ahead."

The agent handed her a stack of files. "Regarding the Forest Club case, we've found an overlooked lead. A farmer in Yorkshire once reported a suspicious incident to the local police. His gamekeeper spotted someone with a gun who claimed to be hunting ducks with an old .22-caliber bolt-action rifle, but judging by the sound of the shots, it was clearly a full-power rifle."

He opened the file. "The farmer reported it to the police immediately because he was worried about legal repercussions, but the officers only made a brief note of it."