Chapter 138: Roan Greenwood: Roan Garcia?

Upon hearing Brent Harry's words, Lacey’s expression darkened, while Roan remained calm, his smile unchanged.

The next second, Brent Harry reached out his hand toward the two of them and said loudly:

"Get me some paper and a pen, and I’ll give you a list right now."

Lacey: "..."

Roan: "Good boy."

—

Investigation Team 5, office area.

Lacey handed out the papers filled with names to William and the other technicians of Team 5 one by one. Roan stood at the front of the office area and said loudly:

"Everyone! These are the names of the people Brent Harry listed who have learned his bomb-making techniques. Our next task is to find the most suspicious individual among them!"

"OK!"

"No problem!"

Although they twitched at the sight of the mountain of names on the papers, the technical agents of Team 5 nodded in unison.

"Of course, we don't need to investigate all of them."

Walking to his workstation and taking a sip of coffee, Roan grinned:

"Some of the people on this list have already left New York. For them, you only need to check their current addresses and whether they have visited New York recently. We are primarily looking for those who currently live in New York, have poor financial status, and have recently visited the Jacob Federal Building or could have had contact with Ancona!"

Hearing Roan's instructions, the technicians nodded and began clattering away at their keyboards.

Mona was also working at her station, her fingers dancing across the keys. Seeing Roan return to his desk, she tilted her head and asked in confusion:

"Why are there so many? Didn't Brent Harry filter any of them out?"

"This is the list that remains after he filtered them," Roan replied, feeling equally helpless.

He looked at Lacey, who pulled five sheets of paper covered in names from behind her back, her expression twitching:

"Ever since he entered prison, Brent Harry has been trading his bomb-making knowledge for money and supplies. It’s been eight years since he was incarcerated, so this is actually a short list."

Ever since he learned he had been sentenced to life without parole, Brent Harry had been racking his brains to improve his quality of life behind bars. To do this, he had developed a system. During recreation time, he would offer free theoretical knowledge to those interested in bomb-making. Once he had hooked them, if they wanted to learn the actual hands-on techniques, they had to pay him in cash or goods.

Only after receiving tuition would Brent Harry teach them the complete knowledge.

Mona: "..."

Roan was also speechless. According to Brent Harry, this method was taught to him by a criminal who had been locked up for financial fraud.

—

A long time passed until one of the technical agents suddenly exclaimed:

"Everyone! I’ve found two pieces of surveillance footage!"

Roan rushed over upon hearing this.

The first piece of footage was from a location five blocks away from the park where Ancona worked part-time, recorded nine days ago. In the frame, a tall white man stood on a street corner. After Ancona arrived, the two shared a kiss for a few seconds, and then the white man pulled a small, indistinct object from his coat and tucked it into Ancona’s arms.

The second video was from the same day, nine days ago, near that same street corner. It showed the white man driving a car into a parking lot not far away. It was the exact same make and model as the car used to kill Ancona.

Watching the scene on the computer, Roan furrowed his brow and asked:

"Who is this man?"

Mona, standing beside Roan and having watched the video as well, replied with a strange tone:

"His name is Roan Garcia, and his name is on Brent Harry's list."

"?"

Roan was stunned for a moment.

Clearing his throat, Mona dropped the expression and continued:

"Roan Garcia, 39 years old. A former Marine. Two years ago, he was arrested by the New York branch of the ATF for violating federal weapons statutes. Recently, the ATF has been investigating another case involving him. The location of the surveillance footage isn't far from the house Garcia was renting, but he moved out yesterday. We don't know where he is now."

"Please, call this man Garcia from now on, thank you."

Roan made a small request, then tilted his head in confusion:

"As far as I know, sentences for these crimes are usually quite severe. Why wasn't he locked up?"

Normally, a violation of federal weapons statutes would result in a minimum of five years in prison for Garcia.

William, standing nearby with a furrowed brow, answered:

"The system shows that Garcia was arrested and successfully convicted, but the case was overturned during the appeal process."

"OK."

Roan nodded and continued: "Does he have any connection to Councilman Mattei?"

"We can't find anything."

Hearing the question, William shook his head and showed the screen to Roan, which displayed a large red box:

"The system denied my access. For some reason, it’s been restricted to the case lead only. The lead investigator’s name is Sanchez."

Mona, standing to the side, broke into a smile, eager for action:

"Roan, do you want me to hack into the ATF system?"

"Er..."

Roan tilted his head and thought for a moment. Just as he was about to say something, Augustus's booming voice rang out from behind him:

"Roan, come here for a second!"

"Yes, sir."

He gave Mona a look, signaling her to hold off on the hack until he returned, then turned and walked into the supervisor's office.

"You have a phone call."

Once inside, Augustus didn't waste any time. He handed his phone to Roan and immediately returned to processing the incident reports on his desk.

Roan took the phone and was surprised to find it was Assistant Special Agent in Charge Corbett. He quickly said:

"Good afternoon, sir, this is Roan."

Corbett, lying in the hospital, was watching television. The news was playing footage of the FBI New York Assistant Director facing CNN reporters regarding the bombing. Normally, this job would have fallen to him, but since he was injured and hospitalized, and it wouldn't be appropriate for the Director to step in, the Assistant Director had to handle the press.

Watching the frustration in the Assistant Director's eyes on screen, Corbett frowned. He was only nine months away from a promotion to the Washington headquarters, but now this major case had occurred, and Verinis was also hospitalized...

Thinking of Mr. Clement in Washington, Corbett's head throbbed even more.

Hearing the voice on the other end, Corbett pushed the chaotic thoughts aside and said calmly:

"You've been working hard, Roan. How is the case coming along?"

Corbett was calling partly to inquire about the investigation, and partly because he was starting to have some regrets.