He had only spoken halfway when his voice suddenly stopped. He saw a black SUV take advantage of a gap while the police were clearing the road, slip into the convoy, and then, after the fire truck passed the checkpoint, seize the opportunity to break out of the encirclement.
The position of this vehicle was chosen very well—it deliberately stuck close behind a large truck, blocking the view of the front surveillance cameras. As a result, the cameras near the traffic lights only captured its rear and license plate, leaving no image of the driver’s face.
Fortunately, before officially withdrawing from the inspection point, Wallace Franklin had arranged for several electronic devices to be set up on both sides of the street to ensure the situation inside the car could be recorded from multiple angles. One of the cameras happened to capture the driver’s side profile.
The driver was wearing a mask, covering half of his face, and his overly long bangs also hid his eyes, making it almost impossible for the camera to capture his features. However, his hairstyle was completely at odds with his temperament and clothing. His hair was thick, smooth, and rather long, with a natural wave, looking very much like a wig.
Wallace Franklin recalled that during the grassroots inspection, a police officer had reported that Nancy Dawson had entered a wig shop, and immediately shouted, “That black car!”
Julian Grant blinked, snapping out of his daze.
Wallace Franklin said, “Have someone check the owner of this license plate right away and confirm the vehicle’s usage.”
Not long after, the player in charge of the search reported back, “This license plate might be fake. The owner hasn’t been in City A recently, and the vehicle registered to this plate is a silver sports car, not this SUV.”
Julian Grant stood up, bracing both hands on the table, leaning closer to the screen, and said, “Zoom in on the picture for me.”
After the image was enlarged, the quality became blurry. Julian Grant stared intently, his brows furrowing deeply. Then his eyelid twitched, and he exclaimed, “That 0! Change that 0 to a C and search again! She didn’t have time to get a fake plate—she must have just made a small modification to the original plate!”
The player quickly entered the correct license plate number, and a line of information about a person popped up in the database. He dialed the number registered to the owner, and a middle-aged man answered.
Everyone fell silent, listening closely for the response.
“Hello, this is the traffic police. Is the car with license plate XXX yours?”
The other side replied, “Yes, it’s mine.”
“Are you driving your vehicle right now?”
“No, I’m eating. My car is parked in a street parking spot. Why? Is it not allowed to park there...”
Wallace Franklin only needed to hear half of this to confirm that the person in the car was their target. He turned off the surveillance video in front of him and instead pulled up the city traffic map.
“Train station, bus station, highway entrance—just these few locations. Nancy Dawson will definitely take this opportunity to head for one of them. She has her own car, so for now, prioritize the route to the highway entrance. She doesn’t know we’ve discovered her yet, which is our huge advantage!” Wallace Franklin’s finger slid continuously over the complex traffic routes, mapping out several plans in his mind. Using the management and analysis functions of the geographic analysis system, he quickly determined a tracking plan.
“We need to use both active and passive methods! First, let’s make sure we can intercept Nancy Dawson from the front. The black vehicle passed this surveillance point at... 2:02, which means it’s been 5 minutes since then. According to the nearby traffic conditions, this section is still congested—she can’t have gotten far in 5 minutes. Comrades at surveillance point five, immediately flank from the side and try to intercept her at the intersection on Liberation Road!”
A player with a mathematics background quickly entered the data into his computer, refreshed the map, and nodded, “Let’s build a model first... If we estimate based on the navigation’s traffic and time, it’s possible to pull this off.”
Wallace Franklin nodded, then turned and asked, “Have you pulled up the nearby surveillance footage?”
“Watching it now,” Julian Grant said. “There’s a new surveillance system at the intersection on Liberation Road, but so far, the system hasn’t detected a car with this license plate—real or fake.”
With technical support, traveling by car is actually more likely to expose one’s whereabouts than walking.
Wallace Franklin said, “Good! Stay alert at all times—we must keep track of Nancy Dawson’s movements!”
Everyone could hear the barely contained excitement in Wallace Franklin’s voice. After a long lull in the pursuit, there was finally progress. The team was equally excited, and it was a huge relief. The atmosphere in the monitoring room relaxed, even their breathing slowed.
“No, she didn’t go to Liberation Road.” At this moment, the player monitoring another road spoke up, making everyone tense again. “The 2:07 surveillance footage shows Nancy Dawson turned right at the first intersection—she went onto Victory Road.”
Wallace Franklin bent down and drew a new red line on the map to mark The Vault’s driving route.
She made a right-angle turn, as if she had foreseen their actions, and drove in the opposite direction from the pursuing vehicles.
“Victory Road leads to the East Bus Station, or if she keeps going for another six kilometers, she can reach the second highway entrance.” Although Wallace Franklin thought it was unlikely that Nancy Dawson would leave by bus, he still had the team stationed at the bus station prepare, sending out a skilled driver to “receive the package.”
The players in the monitoring center continued to search for The Vault’s vehicle along the surveillance cameras on Victory Road.
However, the speed of pulling up surveillance footage could never match the speed of a moving vehicle, especially since Victory Road was a major thoroughfare with many intersections. They couldn’t be sure if the target would turn off onto another road or stop at the roadside to delay.
The red dot representing the police vehicle kept moving on the map, while the green marker predicting The Vault’s route was also drawing closer. It looked like the two would soon meet.
The pursuit vehicle passed the predicted meeting point, but didn’t see an SUV matching the target. The driver slowed down, driving forward in confusion, but still didn’t spot Nancy Dawson.
Wallace Franklin pressed his lips together, one hand on the table, eyes glued to the screen.
“She didn’t go to the East Station or the highway entrance.” Julian Grant was a step slower in spotting The Vault on the surveillance. “At 2:16, after turning left, she entered the ring road.”
“The ring road? Is she trying to go to the airport? She can’t possibly go to the airport.” Wallace Franklin instinctively objected. “The airport requires facial recognition. She can’t leave by plane.”
The airport was the first possibility Wallace Franklin ruled out.
A player hesitated, “Could she just be messing with us?”
Julian Grant thought of The Vault’s difficult personality, his mouth twitching, and said, “It’d be strange if she wasn’t messing with us.”
“The other player is so smart—could she have already guessed she’s being tracked?” one player mused like a sage. “Does this game support spy gameplay? The way she’s circling is too much of a coincidence. I suspect we have a mole.”
Julian Grant said with certainty, “...No, this game doesn’t support such wild factions.”
Wallace Franklin raised his hand and rubbed his chin so hard his skin turned red before he finally spoke, “If she’s a very cautious person, then even if she hasn’t realized she’s being followed, she might deliberately lead us in circles to throw us off. As long as she avoids the most likely locations, she can achieve that effect.”
A newcomer asked, “So do we keep chasing?”
“Of course we do!” Wallace Franklin said. “Wait at the key exits—I don’t believe we won’t catch her! Keep checking the surveillance—don’t let her out of our sight.”
·
In Wallace Franklin’s livestream room, the audience was banging drums and gongs, eager for the excitement.
They had spent the whole day watching surveillance in the pursuers’ livestream—literally the whole day. They’d thought they’d have a thrilling, god’s-eye view, but in the end, what they saw was the tough life of grassroots law enforcement. It was sheer stubbornness that kept them watching until now, all for this moment.
The moment to vent their frustration and turn the tables!
“Hurry up, hurry up!”
“The police search is really fast—multi-department coordination, and they can pull this off during a holiday. Amazing.”
“Bet the big boss never thought she’d be caught less than five minutes after escaping the checkpoint. Did all that planning, found a blind spot in the cameras. Too bad. Trying Not to Laugh”
“So exciting, cat and mouse.”
“I think ‘cat and mouse’ is a flag—after all, the cats of my childhood never caught any mice.”
“Can’t help wanting spoilers—I’m going to peek at the big boss’s stream next door.”
“Isn’t it easier to check the surveillance on the ring road? It’s a one-way street. Oh! Looks like they’ve already tracked her.”
·
Following the model’s calculations, Julian Grant and the others finally caught up with the vehicle’s real-time surveillance and watched as the black car exited the overpass midway, entering a surveillance blind spot.
However, on the other side of the blind spot, police officers they had arranged in advance were already in position.