Lombock Federal Prison, California, United States.
It was already late at night, and except for the "click, click" sound of the jailer's leather boots echoing in the prison, the entire prison was silent. There are two beds in a cell on the first floor, one of which is empty and the other with a prisoner lying on it. He snored for a while and fell into a deep sleep. There was a sound of footsteps approaching from far away. This was a routine inspection by the jailer. A beam of flashlight light came in through the surveillance hole, flashed in the cell and then disappeared immediately. Then the footsteps slowly moved away from nearer to farther away. At this time, the sleeping prisoner suddenly got up, bent down and took out two steel bars with one end bent from under the bed and clamped them under his arm. Then he crept to the door and took out a small piece of steel from his arms. Fiddle with the lock on the cell door. After a while, I heard a "click" and the lock opened. He listened attentively and felt that there was no danger, so he opened the door and rushed out. He slipped along the wall to the prison wall. He squatted there and waited for a while. When the sentry on the watchtower turned around, he quickly ran across an open space in front of the prison and came to the foot of a courtyard wall that was shorter than the surrounding walls. He used one end of the steel bar to build a wall stack, grabbed the end with both hands, and flew over the prison wall with a force of his feet. He climbed over another wall using the same method, and outside the prison was the wilderness of Southern California. He quickly ran across a road, got into a large bush, and disappeared into the night.
Half an hour later, the alarm bell blared at the Lompoc Federal Prison. The iron gate of the prison slowly opened, and several police cars sped along the highway with blaring sirens.
Ten minutes later, information about the fugitive appeared on the California FBI computer display screen:
Christopher John Boyce, male, 28 years old, Californian. Before his arrest, he worked as a communications clerk for Potts Precision Machinery Company. The company is a defense contracting company. Boyes used his position to steal a large amount of top-secret information about missile production and sold it to a Japanese trading company, making a profit of US$20 million. He was arrested in 1977 and sentenced to 40 years in prison on espionage charges.
It was the FBI in California that arrested Boice, but this time they were helpless because the task of hunting down fugitives had recently been transferred from the FBI to the Marshals. Are they up to the task? Many people were skeptical.
Two months later, Bois was like a cow in the sea, with no trace left. The superiors transferred 43-year-old Chuck Kueffler from the New Orleans office to serve as the director of the execution team. He is an outstanding bailiff. , devoted himself to the detection work.
Soon, Chuck Kuffler held a press conference, at which he talked to the press about the current difficulties of the Marshals Team, hoping to get support from the news media. The response from journalists has been great. The next day, Boice's photos and wanted posters appeared in major local newspapers and TV. In order to get help from the general public, Kuffler also set up a special reporting hotline, and received dozens of reporting calls every day: someone said that Boice was walking on the streets of San Francisco, and at the same time someone saw Boice. Ace boarded a flight to New York... A lot of place names had been marked on Kueffler's map: Seattle, Los Angeles, Dallas, Denver, etc., and each whistleblower claimed that what he saw must be Fugitives to be hunted. Kuffler believed these reporting calls, but he couldn't believe them all, so he had no choice but to run for his life.
Did Bois go to heaven and go to earth?
Just when Kueffler was at a loss, in Beaver Village in the northwest corner of the Olympic Peninsula in Washington State, a young man who called himself Sean Hennessey came. At this moment, he was sitting in the tavern and drinking beer leisurely. He is none other than the fugitive Boyce.
The atmosphere in the pub was very warm, and the alcohol made Boyce feel a little dizzy. It's time to rest for a while, he thought to himself. After more than a year of hiding in Tibet, Bois felt a little tired. Now, he finally settled in Beaver Village with the money he earned from working on the road and robbing. He rented a fishing boat and hired a man named Sullivan to help him sail it.
"No one will know that I am hiding here. Everything is normal now, and those stupid pigs can't catch me." Thinking of this, a smile appeared on Boice's face.
Keffler's life is quite difficult. A year passed with no clues at all, and he was exhausted by reporters' inquiries, inquiries from old colleagues and pressure from his superiors.
Just when there was no way to restore the suspicion of Mount Kufleur, one night, a man calling himself Jack Prosser called the Colorado FBI and said that he knew that Boice was hiding. Where. But he asked the bureau to keep it secret and pay him a reward. The Colorado FBI agreed to his request. Jack Prosser said Boice now lives in Beaver Village, Washington, under the pseudonym Sean Hennessy. Prosser claimed to be a friend of Boyce and did not want to report him. However, when he learned that Boyce was arrested for espionage and escaped from prison, he decided to report him.
After receiving this important intelligence, the Colorado FBI quickly notified the Denver Marshals Team. Neff of the Denver Marshals Team and the staff of the state FBI found Prosser and took out six photos of people who looked similar to Boice and a photo of Boice himself. Prosser accurately Boyce was identified.
Keffler studied the above situation in detail and made careful arrangements. A big net to hunt down Bois quietly opened.
That night, Nev and Prosser flew directly from Denver to Seattle. After studying all night, it was decided that the Marshals Team and the Washington State FBI would conduct a joint operation, and the Marshals Team would be responsible for the specific action steps. The first thing to determine is whether Boyce is still in Beaver Village. Prosser firmly believed that Boice lived either in the Sullivan family in Beaver Village or in La Push Village, where salmon boats often docked. The village is 27 kilometers west of Beaver Village.
Early the next morning, the joint operations team took an FBI plane and set off for Beaver Village. They arrived at their destination two hours later.
At around 3 o'clock in the afternoon, two tourists wearing old floral shirts and sunglasses came to the small pier of the fishing village of La Push. They were dressed for vacation and relaxation. The taller one with a rectangular face is Nev, and the other is his assistant. The two of them strolled leisurely on the pier, but the eyes behind the lenses scanned every ship alertly. "Over there!" the assistant poked Nev with his arm. This is an old trawler, more than 9 meters long, with the word "Violet" painted in purple paint on the bow. All this is consistent with the intelligence provided by Prosser.
"Go up and have a look!" Nev was about to walk towards the ship when a white-haired old man walked straight towards them.
"What are you doing?" the old man asked.
"We are here for vacation and want to go fishing." Nev turned around and said to the old man: "Are you the owner of the boat?" Nev pointed at the "Violet" as he spoke .
"No! The owner of the boat seems to be named Thain. He went to Montana last week. If you have anything, go to Sullivan. He is looking after the boat for Thain."
Correct. As he said that, the old man shouted to a stout middle-aged man who was walking towards Nev and the others in the distance: "Hey! Sullivan, come here quickly, these two gentlemen want to find you."
When Sullivan came over, they greeted him politely and asked about renting a boat. Sullivan said that he could not decide on the boat charter and had to wait for Sean to come back. Nev asked quietly when Sion might come back, and Sullivan waved his hand and said he didn't know. In order not to alert others, Nev and Sullivan chatted for a while, and then left with a somewhat regretful expression.
A few days later in the morning, a Lexus van drove into Lapu Shi Village. A man and a woman got out of the car. The man's name was Tom Russell, he was a muscular man and he claimed to be from Seattle; the woman's name was Sue Patrimelli, she was a beautiful girl with blond hair and blue eyes. Their true identities are FBI agents.
As soon as they got off the car, the two went straight to a small hotel in the village, where they met Nev. Tom pretended to ask Nev about something, and Nev took the opportunity to inform him that Boice was not here and asked them to go to Beaver Village as soon as possible.
An hour later, Tom and Sue appeared at the Bear Bay Tavern in Beaver Village. According to Prosser, this is where Boyce often hangs out. But there was no Bois in the tavern at the moment. The net has been opened, and now it is time to wait patiently for the prey to appear.
The task force is centered in the town of Chankers. The town, Beaver Village and La Push Village form an equilateral triangle.
While Nev and others were opening large nets in Beaver Village and La Push Village, Kuffler was also busy in Seattle. He must find enough evidence to prove that the man who calls himself Sean Han The man from Nisay was indeed Bois.
The police secretly managed to obtain Sean Hennessy's signature from the Bear Bay Tavern's credit record. After being identified by a handwriting appraisal expert, the handwriting of this signature is indeed that of Bois.
At the same time, the FBI in Montana and Idaho also forwarded photos of criminals captured by hidden cameras. The criminals in these photos all have big beards and wear sunglasses. You can tell from the feeling that they are the same person. But the Boyce on file does not have a beard. Keffler had someone add the mustache using a sketch based on Boes's archival photo. In this comparison, the images in the two photos are very similar. However, Keffler is still worried.
According to Prosser, Boyce once bought an old Ford car in Idaho. Then he should have a driving license. Soon, the license stub issued by the state of Idaho arrived, and the photo posted on it happened to be an old photo of Boyce. That’s right! That's him.
This afternoon, Sullivan wandered into the Bear Bay Tavern in Beaver Village.
"Hey! Boss! Bring me a beer." Sullivan greeted the hotel owner loudly.
"Sullivan! Have you been running around lately?" "Rapsch." Sullivan took a sip of beer and replied without looking up.
"Guess who I met in Angeles today?"
"Who?"
"Your friend Sean, he came from Montana I got it back, and I seem to have made some money!"
The conversation between Sullivan and the hotel owner was heard word by word by Tom and Sue, who were sitting not far away. The two of them exchanged glances and still sat there drinking and chatting calmly. After Sullivan left, the two stood up calmly, went out and got into Tom's car.
Getting on the road Tom's car drove towards Port Angeles. Su turned on the radio and informed the action team of the situation.
After receiving the intelligence from Tom and Sue, the leader of the action team quickly notified Nev and Kuffler in Seattle.
19 months of hard work is about to bear fruit. Keffler flew to Angeles overnight by helicopter.
The next day, in a room at the Red Lion Bayfront Hotel in Port Angeles, Kuffler, Neff and others carefully formulated an arrest plan. In the end, they unanimously decided to secretly track down every corner of Port Angeles where Liboice might be hiding, narrow the encirclement, and at the same time set up checkpoints on the roads around Port Angeles to capture Liboice at all costs.
At this moment, Bois is making his own wishful thinking in a dilapidated cabin in the Impia Apartments in Port Angeles: in four weeks, he can get the certificate from Pearson Flight School. When he gets his flight certificate, he can fly far away in a plane! But how did he know that now he has wings and cannot escape.
Kufler divided the joint action team into four groups, each group of two, composed of a bailiff and an FBI agent. Each group was responsible for investigating a district in Port Angeles. Condition.
Members of these joint action teams dressed up as drunkards who sat in bars for half a day, idlers wandering the streets, college students picnicking in the park, and young couples looking for cheap hotels.
One night two days later, Digra, one of the team members, and another police officer drove along the main port of Angeles. At 8:30, Digra felt a little hungry, so he suggested buying a hamburger.
Their car was parked next to a hamburger stand, and there was an old Ford parked opposite. Just when Digra reached out to turn off the car lights, he accidentally glanced at the person in the opposite car. For a moment, he was stunned. Under the bright car lights, Bois was sitting in the car opposite. Boyce didn't seem to notice them. He was shaking his head, chewing gum and humming along with the rock music playing on the radio in the car.
Digra quickly calmed down. After buying the hamburger, he backed up the car, turned around, and parked diagonally behind the old car.
Digra quickly reported the situation to Kueffler via the walkie-talkie. A few minutes later, the joint action team's vehicles gathered around Boice's vehicle.
Sue Palmeri stuck her head out of the car window and looked at the people in the old car next to her. The man was chewing gum and seemed to be smiling at Su.
"Yes, that's him," Su whispered.
Kufler, who was sitting in the back, picked up the wireless phone and whispered softly: "Start taking action!"
Immediately, the doors of several cars opened at the same time, and five bailiffs and agents were holding firearms. jumped out. As soon as Boyce saw someone rushing toward him with a gun, he immediately understood what was going on. He soon realized that there was no way to escape, so he had to stay in the car and surrender.
Digra reached out and opened Boyce's car door, pointing the gun directly at Boyce's temple. "Put your hands on the steering wheel! You're under arrest!" Digra ordered.
"Come out! Boyce." Kueffler said cheerfully as he stepped forward.
Bois hung his head in frustration and had no choice but to let Digra cuff his hands.
While being escorted into the police car, Boyce asked: "Who are you? Federal agents?"
"No! It's the bailiff!" Kueffler proudly said replied.