American variety show: Sniper Elite

Chapter 183 A Clue Worth Investigating
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Ray Sterling, Trevor Fulton, Michael McCray, and Fred Fowdy

The reason is that it had to be changed.

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The mute man's shovel fell again with a whooshing sound, and Allen desperately raised his bloodied arms to block it, the edge of the shovel colliding with his bones.

"I remember! I remember! I remember!" His wailing sounded like a wild dog being choked.

Without pausing, the mute man delivered two more heavy blows.

"Speak," she said calmly.

Allen curled up like a shrimp, his trembling fingers digging into the soil: "He...he was picked up by his own driver in a black Cadillac. The windows were tinted." He coughed violently after every few words.

The mute man pressed the edge of a shovel against Allen's Adam's apple; the cold metal sent a shiver down Allen's spine. "You saw the driver with your own eyes?"

Allen shook his head frantically, his skin brushing against the shovel's edge: "No! But Frank said he's his family's most trusted driver. That car picks him up every day."

The mute man raised his head, his gaze passing over the wailing Allen, and looking at the figure leaning against the Mercedes in the distance.

Beta's fingertips traced the trident logo on the car key.

He was calculating the appropriate level of warning, wanting to inflict a deep wound on the Fabio family, but not crossing the threshold that would forge a blood feud between the two families.

Beta slowly turned around, his gaze falling on the mute man: "Let him go to the fracture specialist ward, but make sure he can still walk. Then take him to the Continental Hotel and wait for Fabio's family to pick him up."

The mute nodded firmly and swung the shovel down. With a crisp cracking sound, Allen immediately clutched his arm and screamed in pain.

Fulton strode forward, grabbed Allen by the collar and lifted him up: "Come on, let's go to the hospital for some 'treatment'."

Beta got into the driver's seat of the Mercedes, and Katalia quietly got into the passenger seat.

The mute man slowly walked to the car, put his arm on the roof, and leaned down to look at the two people inside.

Beta rolled down the car window: "Is there anything else?"

The mute man pursed his lips slightly: "How will I be paid for all this I've done for you?"

Beta looked up at her and asked, "What price do you want?"

The mute man said decisively, "I want three times their payment."

Beta raised an eyebrow: "You can do three times their workload?"

The mute man pulled a cigarette case from his pocket, took out a slender cigarette, and held it between his fingers: "Three times the quantity is impossible. But three times the difficulty is no problem."

Beta's gaze fell on her fingers, and he slowly nodded: "Okay."

He took out a pure black business card holder and pulled out a card with a silver trim: "Write your account number directly on this. The money will be transferred directly to you, without going through Sterling."

The mute man put his index and middle fingers together and drew an arc on his forehead: "Understood, boss."

The mute man took the pen Beta handed him.

She wrote down an account number and handed the business card back to Beta: "My old account is still working fine. Sterling helped us with the transfer and encryption, but we still need to be careful with large expenditures, after all, the FBI is watching closely now."

Beta took the business card: "Okay. You and the others will keep an eye on the Fabio family's brats."

He started the engine, and the dashboard glowed with a faint blue light: "I still have things to take care of."

The mute man took a half step back, making room for the vehicle: "Understood, boss." The Mercedes engine roared low, and the vehicle slowly drove out of the courtyard.

In the rearview mirror, the Buick and Tiguan turned on their headlights one after the other, the beams piercing the darkness. The three cars parted ways, the vehicle carrying Fabio turning east and gradually disappearing into the deep night.

Katalia gently adjusted her seatbelt and turned her head to ask, "What do we do now?"

Beta tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he stared at the winding road ahead: "Let's go back and rest. Wait for news from Blue. Whether Frank is dead or alive, we have to find him first."

"Based on Fabio's testimony, three key questions need to be investigated: the real owner of the car, the identity of the driver who picked up Frank, and their final destination."
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Beta pushed open the heavy oak door, and warm yellow light poured onto the Persian carpet.

Ashley, wearing a champagne-colored silk nightgown, curled up on the sofa, the straps slipping down to reveal her fair shoulders, her eyelashes casting shadows in the light. She clutched a cushion in her arms, her fingertips twirling the tassels.

Beta closed the door behind him, the brass latch making a crisp sound as it struck.

Beta put the car keys in the cabinet behind the door and casually draped his suit jacket over a Victorian-style coat rack. His bulletproof vest sat on a leather armchair, revealing a sweat-soaked shirt underneath.

He pulled out a Glock 17 and placed it on the coffee table, the black steel barrel making a crisp sound as it struck the marble surface.

The sofa sank slightly with his weight, startling Ashley into shifting. As he reached out and put his arm around her shoulder, his fingertips touched the cool skin beneath the silk fabric, and he smelled the orange blossom and sandalwood scents in the air.

"Were you woken up by your men?" His voice carried the chill of the night wind.

Ashley nestled into his arms, her hair still fragrant from her shower, and murmured, "Mmm."

Her eyelashes trembled slightly: "They said you went out overnight. I didn't dare to call and bother you." Her voice gradually lowered.

Beta was not surprised to have his arm around Ashley. After all, he was the one who had his men procure the car, and they would definitely report it to Ashley. Beta had no complaints about this; it was good that someone was worried and concerned.

Beta stroked her shoulder, gently resting his chin on her forehead. He could smell the lingering tuberose scent in her hair, mixed with the faint lavender fragrance on the pillow: "You barely touched tonight's meal. Was it because the kitchen didn't suit your taste?"

Ashley gently shook her head in his arms: "I just can't seem to get an appetite."

Beto lifted her knees and back, her silk nightgown draped over her shoulders, revealing her slender ankles. He carried her through the carpeted corridor, the wall lamps casting a soft glow on them.

"Have Dr. Helen come tomorrow for a full examination." He paused in front of the bedroom door. "We must find out the cause."

Ashley buried half her face in the seam of his shirt and nodded groggily, "Okay."

Beta gently laid Ashley on the bed covered with Egyptian cotton sheets, the duvet enveloping her slender body. As he tucked her in, Ashley's breathing became long and even. She was clearly exhausted, yet she had stubbornly stayed in the office, waiting for his return.

He quietly left the bedroom, the brass door lock clicking shut.

Beta turned and saw Katalia leaning against a pillar in a silver-grey silk robe, moonlight streaming through the arched window. The robe's belt was loosely tied, revealing her delicate collarbone, and she gazed silently at Beta.

Beta ran her hand over the door to make sure it was closed before turning to the figure in the moonlight: "Aren't you going to rest yet?"

Catalia slid back and pushed open her bedroom door with her fingers.

She gestured invitingly: "Please."

Beta smiled helplessly: "Looks like tonight isn't over yet, I'll have to keep you company?"

Katalia slightly raised her chin, the tassels at the end of her silk belt swaying: "Obviously."

(End of this chapter)