"Mm, the number of people roughly matches the number of transmitters."
Gin glanced at the red dots in another window, checked them against the footage they had received, and nodded calmly.
"There's someone lying down in the back seat," Chianti reminded him. "It could be Kir."
"Wait and see what the other cars are doing."
Without making any premature judgment, Gin flicked the cigarette in his hand.
The FBI were not complete idiots. They could not possibly have failed to anticipate their intentions.
Even if it was a decoy, it had to look like a viable alternative, meant to divide their attention.
Soon, footage from three different trackers was transmitted over. Gin opened them one by one and compared them.
The second car also had nine people, roughly the same number as the first, and none of them carried any transmitters.
The third car only had two people.
"It's like some kind of puzzle."
After a long silence, Kumeru suddenly spoke through the earpiece, freezing the smile that had just appeared at the corner of Gin's mouth.
He knew that bastard would not stay quiet for long.
"Shut up and do your job. Don't interfere with my judgment."
"Yes, yes..."
The sound of fabric rustling on Kumeru's end vanished, and silence returned, as though he had muted his microphone.
Gin could not be bothered to guess what was happening on Kumeru's side. He took it as deliberate provocation and reviewed the three images again.
"All right, Gin, have you decided yet?" Chianti's impatient voice soon rang out. "If you drag this out any longer, the rifle on my back is going to get too hot to hold!"
What she meant was that if she did not receive clear instructions soon, she would stop caring about secrecy and simply start shooting