For some individuals with potential risks that might be detrimental to the nation, different levels of monitoring are conducted in advance.

If something happens, they will look within that circle.

Although it's not 100% accurate, the probability is very high.

This can minimize the time needed to capture terrorists.

Luke asked, "Can you trace his phone number?"

"No, the phone number is no longer in use."

"What about the address?"

"People like them most likely don't live at the registered address."

Seeing the other party not in a hurry, Luke asked, "Do you have a way to find him?"

"I can't, but I know who can find him."

"OK, then show me how the FBI investigates."

...

Diefka Restaurant.

A black Chevrolet SUV parked near the restaurant.

Luke got out of the car and glanced around. On the roadside stood several men with headscarves, causing him to frown slightly.

Armand Hains said, "This area is a gathering place for Middle Eastern immigrants. As far as I know, LAPD rarely patrols around here.

These residents rarely report to the police proactively."

"Do they pay taxes?"

"Very little."

A Los Angeles citizen who doesn't pay taxes is not a good citizen.

Luke and Armand Hains entered the restaurant one after the other.

The restaurant was about a hundred square meters, with reliefs carved on the walls depicting ancient wars.

There were quite a few diners inside, all of whom were Middle Eastern men; Luke didn't see any female customers.

Armand Hains went to the front desk and said to a bearded man, "I want to see Hassan Hussein."

The bearded man looked up at Armand Hains and then glanced at Luke, "He's not available now."

Armand Hains sneered and flashed his FBI credentials, "I'm not asking for your opinion. Either let me in, or I'll take him away."

The bearded man scowled, "He's praying."

Armand Hains glanced at his watch, "OK, we'll wait ten minutes."

Luke and Armand Hains found a table to sit at. The surrounding diners glanced at them intentionally or unintentionally, and Armand Hains glared back fiercely.

Luke, however, didn't react significantly. The aroma of meat wafted through the air, with similar dishes on each table – lamb, naan, bean soup.

Luke quite liked Middle Eastern restaurants, though this was one place he dared not eat.

Luke said, "Hassan Hussein is the person you mentioned."

"That's right. The locals come to him for disputes as his prestige is very high.

In their eyes, he can represent the law."

Luke laughed, "Hearing you say that, I really want to meet someone who can represent the law enforcement and judicial system."

A few minutes later, the bearded man came over, "Hassan Hussein invites you in, follow me."

Under the watchful eyes of many diners, the bearded man led the two into the kitchen, through which was a small courtyard.

The courtyard was paved with stone bricks, barren, with a parasol in the far corner under which lay a thick carpet. On it sat a man with a white scarf and a white beard.

"Sheikh, I've brought them," said the bearded man leading the way, then stood behind Hassan Hussein.

Hassan Hussein lifted his head, looking at Armand Hains and Luke, "Gentlemen, what can I do for you?"

"I want to ask you for a favor." Armand Hains spoke directly without beating around the bush, taking out a photo of Hard Abbas, "Do you know him?"

Hassan Hussein took the photo and looked at it carefully, "Yes, a young man with ideas."

"I want you to help us find him."

Hassan Hussein returned the photo, shaking his head, "You're in the wrong place. This is a restaurant, not a detective agency. Even though I know him, it doesn't mean I know where he is."

Armand Hains also sat cross-legged on the carpet, "Listen, I respect you, so I'm giving you enough time to pray, but I also hope you respect the FBI.

Respect is mutual, hmm."

The bearded man standing behind said, "The Sheikh seeing you is your biggest respect."

Armand Hains looked up at him, "I wasn't talking to you, are you in charge here?"

Hassan Hussein asked, "Why are you looking for this young man?"

"This morning, a terrorist attack occurred at Steven Community College, resulting in dozens of deaths. Hard Abbas is the terrorist carrying chemical weapons, did you know about this?"

"I don't know, I haven't left the restaurant for a long time, and this matter is unrelated to us."

"Then find him and prove your innocence."

The bearded man discontentedly said, "We are already innocent. First, you haven't caught Hard Abbas, so you can't determine he's a terrorist.

Even if he is a terrorist, it has nothing to do with us. I know American law, and if you keep speaking this way, I'll call my lawyer."

Armand Hains stared at the bearded man, "What's your name?"

"Maitita Abbas."

"Do you have a problem with me?"

Maitita Abbas pointed outside, "I want you to leave this restaurant immediately."

"No problem, I can leave now, but I can guarantee that if I leave just like that, immigration will definitely come to you by tonight.

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