Jack used all his skills to finally and tactfully hand the woman over to a police officer for questioning.
When he arrived outside the store, wiping away cold sweat, several people were gathered in a circle, watching Rossi and Hotchner role-play.
"Now you are Francis Goring, a cruel sadist, and I am Henry Foster, your slave, a docile and bewildered 'giver.'"
Rossi paced back and forth in front of Hotchner, trying to imrse himself in the role.
"I need you to control . Only then does my life have direction, only then does it have aning."
Rossi suddenly pointed at Hotchner, who imdiately replied, "Living like that is fine, but then one day, I blew myself up. I died."
"You died, I lost you, and I also lost my self-awareness, because my self-awareness is inextricably linked to you."
Jack found Rossi's current manic state amusing, like a theatrical performance. Hotchner, on the other hand, played along with him with a straight face, his initial reluctance gradually turning into a gleam in his eyes, seemingly getting into the swing of things as well.
So he secretly took out his phone to take pictures. Emily and JJ smiled, seemingly wanting to share the view. Reid was sowhat at a loss, unsure whether he wanted to dissuade Jack or also found it amusing.
"Your pre-existing depersonalization syndro has worsened because of the loss of your lover," Hotchner continued.
Rossi stared into Hotchner's eyes. "Now I'm all alone."
"But you hate yourself." Hotchner returned the gaze.
"Yes, but why?" Rossi murmured to himself.
"Because I brainwashed you, using my way of dealing with the world. I told you over and over again that you're a piece of trash, worthless without ."
Hotchner muttered to himself, hands in his pockets, expressionless, as if he had truly beco Francis Goring.
"That's right." Rossi beca even more excited.
"So I went ho and destroyed everything, everything that reminded of who I am. I destroyed myself, just to beco you. It was the only way I could survive."
The four people who had been watching the performance suddenly got goosebumps. Jack suddenly thought of a term: resurrection.
According to Rossi and Hotchner's deduction, Henry Foster transford himself into Francis the mont he learned of Francis Goring's death.
In a sense, it could also be seen that the mont Francis Goring detonated the grenade, his soul entered Henry Foster's body, replacing him and achieving a kind of rebirth.
"If you think like Francis… my God, I know where he's going." Emily pulled an evidence bag from her bag, containing the photograph Reid had taken from the refrigerator earlier.
"Reid, do you rember those ho videos that were first found in his house?"
Reid had clearly figured it out too. "Francis said sothing about kings living on high places, watching over intruders, and he talked about arming himself to defend his territory."
He took the photograph from Emily and pointed to the giant rock in it, asking, "Is it possible he considered this his castle?"
"Just ask around." Hotchner called directly to the sheriff nearby.
"Sheriff, do you know where this terrain in the photograph is located?"
The sheriff took the photograph, squinted, and held it a little further away, recognizing the massive rock in the photo as soon as he could see it clearly.
"This is Black Hawk Beak. The militia used to use it as a training base, but it was banned by order of higher-ups."
"Sheriff, we now have to assu that Henry Foster will do sothing similar to Francis. He has hostages now and is fully ard."
"If he gets caught, he will not only be willing to die, but he will also try to take us all down with him, the more the better, just like Francis did to that fallen officer."
Hotchner perford his duty and began issuing orders.
The sheriff was already impressed by the performance of the BAU team and nodded repeatedly. "Okay, then what do you need? I will do my best to et your requirents."
"Guides familiar with the terrain, enough manpower to block the roads, and your best snipers."
Hotchner then looked at Jack. "It's ti to show off your new toy. Hopefully, you can use it as accurately as you use your pistol."
Jack shrugged, indicating that he was not under any pressure. He was only worried that if the distance was too far, his rifle would not be accurate enough.
A true sniper rifle has a longer barrel; the one he currently has is rely a designated marksman rifle.
Fortunately, he has prepared a box of sniper ammunition, and with his proficiency level, it should be sufficient for most situations.
However, this also made Jack secretly consider that he is not short of money now; he can afford sniper rifles costing tens of thousands and scopes costing tens of thousands more. He might consider buying a few to practice with when the opportunity arises.
As for future mission needs, the FBI will naturally foot the bill. As long as he demonstrates the corresponding abilities, both Rossi and Hotchner will help him submit reports to apply for new equipnt.
The mountain road leading to the canyon area is rugged and uneven, and after nearly an hour of bumping, the group finally arrived near the so-called Black Hawk Beak boulder.
From the photos, it looks like a huge rock, but upon closer inspection, they realized it was more like an isolated cliff.
It is at least forty or fifty ters above the ground, completely barren, and the front is obviously difficult to climb. Even going around to the back would take a long ti, as it is extrely steep.
Then, as expected, Jack ran into a new acquaintance.
"Harris Townsend? What are you doing here?"
"The sheriff said you need the best sniper around, and that's ." The white old man smoothed his thinning hair and pulled a Remington M700 with an 8x scope from the back seat.
"Is this okay? He's a civilian." Hotchner looked at the sheriff.
"You said the best, so he is the best. A forr special forces sniper, and nobody knows the terrain better than him. I can vouch for him."
The sheriff took off his cowboy hat, glaring hatefully at the cliff. "My n have spotted him, on the mountaintop, on the other side of the ridge. Take care of this bastard quickly and let the people here return to peace."
Jack opened the trunk, took out his rifle, examined it carefully, then took out a box of sniper ammunition, loaded five rounds, and then filled a magazine with regular ammunition.
"Wow, another German gun. Is this one any good?" Harris asked cheekily.
Jack rolled his eyes. "It's definitely better than your rifle. It's so windy here, what if I miss?"
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