After divorce I am a billionaire

On the heavy rainy night, several armed vehicles sped along the highway.

Malcolm clutched his cell phone nervously, still trying to get through to Lyra.

Out of service, still out of service...

Brad showed a GPS-enabled photo of her location, and Malcolm stared at the red dot, expecting to see his wife at the red dot.

"Boss..." Brad was driving, and glanced at Malcolm in the back seat through the rearview mirror.

"Speak," Malcolm said succinctly.

"In the middle of the night, Madam's GPS only went online one time. | think... There's something wrong here. By the twe reach there, there won't be any suspicious clues..." Malcolm's thin lips were pressed into a straight line, and his jaw was always taut, a sign of repression.

"Don't talk nonsense. Contact the border police in district immediately. It'll only take them ten minutes to get there. Block off the entire highway. Even if it's a bird, it's not allowed to fly out of the area." "Yes." Brad drove with one hand and expertly tapped on his bluetooth headset with the other to get the person in charge on the phone and relay Malcolm's orders.

The rain never ended.

Approaching the highway, Malcolm looked out the window at the dark rain and sniffed himself.

"Brad, do | smell like cigarettes?" Brad shook his head. "Boss, you're givinga hard time. | smoke too. I'm not sensitive to this smell. | think... It's no different from the day." It was useless to ask that.

The vehicles were large, and in addition to firearms and weapons, there were also emergency supplies.

Malcolm went to open a wooden box, pulled out a set of dark green casual military uniform, turned off the overhead light in the armored car, and quickly changed into a new set of clothes.

Brad peeked in the rearview mirror from tto time. In the dim light, he couldn't help but notice his pecs and abs.

Uh-huh. ... boss's skin looked so good. No wonder he was so pleased by his wife.

"Do you want to be blindfolded and a target for training camp tomorrow?" The man's deep voice suddenly cfrom behind.

No kidding. At this point, all Malcolm can think about was to find his wife.

Brad was so scared that he looked away and focused on driving.

Within five minutes, Malcolm had deftly changed into a full suit, buttoning.

His eyes were red in the dim light of the car.

Rara hated his smoking and liked to see him clean.

Even if there was only a one-in-10,000 chance of seeing her tonight, he must go to her tidily.

After only a few hours of being out of touch with her, Malcolm felt as if he had been separated for centuries.

Their kids were five years old, and in all those years he had never been so frightened.

After more than an hour of being uneasy, the five armed vehicles that passed through the rainy night steadily stopped at the closed gate of Kiplam Hills Suburban Highway.

There was a squad of policemen waiting at the intersection.

Brad got out of the car, grabbed a big black umbrella, went around to the back, and opened the door for Malcolm.

Malcolm got out of the car and walked over to a police officer.

"Hello, Mr. White, My nis Tate Wilson. I'm the captain of this district. You're still on official business late at night. It must be hard.” The man bowed respectfully.

Malcolm nodded. "You too. How was the road? How many cars did you stop?" "It's always quiet in the suburbs, and there's not a lot of traffic on the roads. In the last hour, there have only been two cars, and they're trying to identify the drivers.” "Okay." Malcolm thought for a moment, then said, "Is the highway surveillance in this area intact?" "Don't worry. It's intact. The traffic cameras haven't been tampered with." "Check all the surveillance from the last few hours and double-check for suspicious vehicles.” "Understood." The police officer behind Tate pushed aside the barricade and offered to make way for Malcolm's armed vehicle.

Malcolm turned around and got in the car.

The door was still open, and Malcolm said to Tate, who was standing perfectly still outside, "Get in." "Me?" Tate was flattered. He put away his umbrella, shook off the moisture, and stooped into the armored car, sitting across from Malcolm.

The armed vehicle quickly entered the road and headed for the isolated monitoring room in the middle.

In less than two minutes, Tate received the verified documents and immediately handed a tablet to Malcolm. "These are the two cars that were searched during the night. Please take a look at them. There is nothing wrong with the identification information." Malcolm took the tablet, glanced at it, and there was nothing wrong with it. Everyone in the car was checked out.

The atmosphere in the car was extremely cold, and Tate, who was sitting across from Malcolm, sweated on his back, stepped closer to Brad, and asked in a low voice, "Brad, What's going on? His face... It's so scary. If he has a gun in his hand, | feel like he's going to shoot me." Brad was trying not to laugh, which was exhausting! Tate didn't wait for Brad's answer. Instead, Malcolm said, "There aren't many people in the car. I'm not deaf. Your whisper is useless." Tate was so embarrassed that his toes tightened. He could only giggle. "I know you have always been meticulous and serious when dealing with official business. It's just that it's my first tmeeting a big shot like you. I'm a little nervous, so..." Malcolm, expressionless and in no mood to listen to his compliment, handed the tablet back to him, feeling a sense of loss.

Only two cars, and the identity information was clear.

Still, there was no sign of his wife.

Even though he knew the odds were against him, Malcolm couldn't calm himself down but had to cforward himself.

"Go to the roadside surveillance room. | want to see tonight's footage myself." "Yes." Tate had already given his orders, and by the tthe crew got to the traffic cam room, someone had saved all the footage from the previous few hours into a full video file for Malcolm to view.

In this road, basically every two or three kilometers had a camera real-tmonitoring.

At this moment, there were a total of eight surveillance images on the screen, playing at 12 times the speed.

All people of the room was glued to the images, and no one dared to interrupt Malcolm's thoughts on the surveillance.

Tate didn't know what's going on, but the head of the NIB was here, and he needed to be there for everything.

For a few hours of monitoring, Malcolm was done in less than ten minutes.

Suddenly, he was blazing with anger and he squinted. "Stop. Backtrack." A man immediately pressed the back button.

"Go back. Go back to 10: 46." The man did as he was told.

"Zoom in on cameras six and eight." Malcolm looked back and forth several times, cross-referenced the images, and noticed something was amiss.

Brad noticed the problem immediately, "There's something wrong with this black car. The highway was unobstructed in the middle of the night. He drove at an average speed of 80 to camera six. The distance between him and camera eight was two kilometers. There was a blind spot in the middle. If this car drove at a constant speed, it would take less than two minutes to drive from camera six to eight, but this car stayed in the blind spot for ten minutes!" This was very suspicious.

And they seemed to know the blind spots in the traffic cams, which would have been hard to notice if Malcolm hadn't been so sharp-eyed.

Malcolm said sternly, "Run down the license plate information on this car immediately. | want it tonight!"