+18 eps. 17-21 - After a hard case that takes the team to DC in order to catch a blackhat and prevent a bombing, all hell breaks loose on their return to Boston , when the ghost of the Libra killer comes back to torture Brock seven years after the m...
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Brock and Russell left Augusta after lunch. For the last three days, they'd been working with the agents at the local agency to bring the investigation in track. They'd talked to the police authorities there and in Bangor. They'd set a joint work plan for locals and the federal agents assigned to the case.
The pictures Tanya had enhanced were not enough to run them on facial recognition, but at least they were clearer than the original captions from the street cameras. They'd been sent to all the PDs throughout the state, so beat cops all over Maine would have them and try to spot any of the four subjects.
There was nothing more they could do right now, so they'd decided to go back to Boston.
Ten minutes out of Augusta, Brock noticed Russell had something in mind, upsetting him.
"What is it, Coleman? You think we missed something?"
Russell shook his head with a grimace. "No. I'm positive we covered all we could. But something's off here." He sighed. "We think there's a militia involved in these attacks. Some white supremacy nutjobs trying to wreck some havoc. But they're going too far to have their feast."
Brock took a moment to think about it, then nodded. "You're right. Militias usually go straight to their point. If they want a rush of violence and adrenaline, they just go for it."
"Exactly!" Russell sat up in his seat. "You too think there's something else here!"
Brock arched his eyebrows. "These subjects are too sophisticated to fit that model. Impersonating police officers in different cities takes planning and attention to detail. Not only to get the right uniforms and disguise their car. They even made sure there were no other cruisers nearby, and no security cameras to get a clear shot of them. Such a level of organization usually aims for something more than adrenaline."
Russell frowned. "What d'you have in mind? Some political move?"
"Not quite. I don't know why, but I keep thinking about that case we worked last year here in Maine, upstate. I know we caught them and dismantled their circuit, and still..."
"The arm traffickers smuggling long guns into Canada? You think it can be related to this? How?"
"Money. Financial profit would fit their sophistication."
"Okay, now you've lost me."
Easy on him, Brockner. He's not Gillian. "They attacked black men and framed the police. We think they expect the black population to riot. But you can't go unarmed against the ones with the guns."
"You think they're inciting riots to sell guns to the rioters?"
"Not only to them. If the black population riots against authorities, the white population will react as well."
Russell narrowed his eyes.
Brock arched his eyebrows. "They could sell guns on both sides of the conflict."
