"I knew you’d say that!" Old Beck switched to speaker mode.
An electronic voice from the Miami Herald began to read: "This controversial sheriff is becoming the focus of public discussion."
The screen in front of Zhou Qingfeng also displayed a breaking news segment, featuring Kongges’ wife and daughter being interviewed at the hospital.
Sixteen-year-old Selena sobbed on camera, her tears flowing like raindrops on a pear blossom, recounting the kidnapping ordeal she and her mother endured.
Switching channels, Fox News had the headline "Black Police? Hero? A Father’s Redemption Path."
"Victor, you’re watching the news too, aren’t you? Those reporters unearthed a lot of leads within hours. The public doesn’t need the truth; they crave a legend."
Old Beck laughed heartily over the phone, "Victor, you have a lot of empathy, which is a good trait.
Lawyers across the United States love generous and wealthy people like you; this greatly reduces your social costs.
Unfortunately, I’m specialized in finance, not criminal defense, or I’d personally defend Kongges. But I’ve already received several calls; many friends in the legal field are willing to help."
Zhou Qingfeng was a bit shocked because Kongges had killed many people last night, some of whom were clearly beyond the "necessary" range.
For instance, after killing Director Shult, he also killed Director Matthew and wiped out Matthew’s entire family.
Additionally, the murder of the Chris Family was witnessed by around twenty to thirty soldiers at the scene; there’s no way to dodge that blame.
Old Beck laughed again, "The media loves controversial figures and are exploring multiple facets of Kongges in this case.
A rough, impulsive man who turned to crime out of desperation, yet ultimately fought against evil forces to protect his family.
This duality is fantastic—it’s the redemption of fate, an elevation of humanity. The people of the United States love such complex characters.
Once the public opinion is successfully molded, Hollywood will be scrambling to write a script for Kongges, and the lawyers defending him will gain fame from it.
All it takes is preparing a bail not less than seven figures. Of course, that’s not a problem for you."
Money indeed wasn’t an issue. Not only did Zhou Qingfeng have wealth, but after eliminating the Chris Clan, he made a fortune. He was in charge of the seizure last night.
When the last Chris Clan member fell into a pool of blood, the rifle in Kongges’ hand clattered to the ground.
The towering man’s knees buckled, and he knelt heavily, sweat mixed with blood trickling down from his temple.
His vision began to blur, and a buzzing sounded in his ears as if he could hear his own heart rate slowing—this string that had been taut for dozens of hours finally relaxed.
If it didn’t, it would snap.
Zhou Qingfeng had the FBI helicopter take the Kongges family of three to the hospital first, then found the still-dazed National Guard lieutenant and instructed him to lead a search of the farm, especially the Chris Family’s residence.
The excuse was ready-made—to control other Chris Gang members on the farm and prevent their escape.
The search process was straightforward; four FBI agents were finally of use—arresting, identifying, conducting rapid interrogations, securing evidence, and cracking open the Chris Family safe.
Ordinary safes are indeed hard to crack, but the National Guard, being a real military outfit, was quite polite not to use explosives; an electric drill and saw sufficed.
There were several safes on the farm, such as those for employee wages, keeping black accounts, controlled by family members, and the small treasury representing the family leader’s authority.
The bribe for the Osprey pilots came from the wage-paying safe, containing tens of thousands of US Dollars in cash.
The black accounts safe was handed to the National Guard lieutenant, who was instructed not to let the four FBI agents touch the accounts, as they certainly contained many shady dealings.
That somewhat naive lieutenant still had a sense of justice, assigning two soldiers to guard it strictly.
The family members’ private safes, about a dozen in total, were dealt out to the soldiers, letting them allocate them among themselves.
As for the underground treasury, Zhou Qingfeng handed the two to three million in cash inside to the lieutenant to manage the officers of the National Guard.
The reason for not taking the cash himself was due to too many witnesses at the scene. Taking too little was meaningless, while taking too much invited trouble, so it was better to let it go.
Zhou Qingfeng focused his search on Old Chris’s private bedroom on the farm, an old-fashioned room located at the top level of the farmhouse.
The heavy mahogany door was carved with intricate grapevine patterns. Upon opening the door, a mix of cigar and leather scents hit him.
The room was set up like an old-fashioned gentleman’s study, with the solid wood bookshelves filled with hardbound books, valuable oil paintings on the walls meant to flaunt wealth.
A monitor was on the desk, connected to a server in a small nook.
Zhou Qingfeng powered it up, went online, and had ’Gray Shark’ remotely control the system, quickly revealing the real treasure.
’Gray Shark’ found virtual currency trading software on the computer. The operating system logs showed multiple hard drives in use, but some were missing.
"Victor, check near the server chassis for any unplugged hard drives. Power them up, and I’ll see what’s inside?"
"I’m not a fool. If I show them to you, what do I get in return? How about a million later." Zhou Qingfeng noticed several hard drive enclosures but refused to power them up. Instead, he continued searching Old Chris’s desk.
Before the large FBI team arrived, the Osprey pilots left with a caseload of cash, and the National Guard soldiers and lieutenant each had more cash in their pockets.