Alfred's rapid whisper was like a basin of ice water, extinguishing Ribbs's comfort.
"Cash flow crisis? Out of control?" Ribs' voice was tinged with doubt. "Contact Frank! Make him explain what's going on immediately!"
Alfred didn't pause at all, his fingers moving rapidly on the tablet.
However, a few seconds later, his expression became more serious: "Mr. Speaker, the office of the president of Thorn Group, Mr. Frank's private mobile phone, and the encrypted communication line... all of them are unreachable..."
Ribs immediately realized that something was wrong.
He had just established a foothold in New York, and Frank, the "loyal dog" who controlled the purse strings, disappeared at this moment?!
"Contact Eugene!" Reeves' voice was firm, "Immediately! Have him find out the situation of the Thorne Group and what happened to Frank!"
"Yes, Speaker! I'll contact him right away." Alfred said, and immediately connected to the communication channel dedicated to Eugene.
A few seconds later, Alfred's voice clearly reached Eugene through the encrypted line: "Eugene, Thorne Group's projects have all been halted, and there's a serious cash flow crisis. Frank has lost contact. The Speaker's order: Immediately investigate the group's situation and find Frank!"
Eugene's fingers tightened around the phone. Frank, the financial manager responsible for laundering money for Reebs, had disappeared? He'd just established himself in New York when this happened?
"Understood. I'll take action immediately." Eugene's reply was concise and steady, without any hesitation.
Without any delay, he immediately drove to Thorne Group's headquarters in New York.
This brand new building, which symbolizes Reebok's ambition in New York, now exudes a hint of ominousness.
Eugene strode forward, ignoring the panicked assistant at the secretary's desk, and pushed open the heavy door of the president's office.
The office was dead silent.
The expensive mahogany desk was empty, with documents scattered on the desk and on the floor, some of which had obviously been hastily flipped through and discarded.
No one.
Eugene's eyebrows twitched.
He quickly scanned the office. The safe was locked, but that was just for show; a seasoned man like Frank wouldn't keep any real secrets there.
Frank had disappeared. Not only was he missing, but his frequently used cell phones and encrypted communication devices were all disconnected.
Eugene didn't waste time in the office.
He knew that Frank, a fence-sitter who had survived the rules of survival in Chicago, would never disappear for no reason.
Either he absconded with the money - but he probably didn't have the guts to do that, as he knew Ribs's methods well; or... he was forced to do so.
In the next few hours, Eugene sent out several of his most capable Black Rabbit team members and personally contacted several reliable undercover agents to collect information on the streets of New York.
The information was quickly compiled: Frank's car, his favorite black Bentley with a very conspicuous license plate, was last recorded in the parking lot of his luxury apartment building.
The car was captured on surveillance footage as it entered Manhattan traffic but then disappeared beyond the reach of public cameras.
This is unusual. Given Frank's status and habits, his routes usually take him to areas covered by surveillance. Is he deliberately avoiding them?
The trail seemed to break off in the apartment building parking lot.
Eugene didn't hesitate, he changed direction: the New York police.
The ultimate controller of the vast urban surveillance network is the New York Police Department.
It is very easy to get help from the New York police. As long as you are willing to spend money, you can basically buy the information you want.
One hundred thousand dollars was spent, and with the huge reward, the efficiency was amazing.
In less than an hour, an encrypted data packet was sent to the terminal designated by Eugene.
Eugene sat in a nondescript black SUV with an open laptop in front of him.
On the screen, multiple split screens simultaneously played surveillance footage from different intersections. His fingers slid quickly across the touchpad, pausing, zooming in, and tracking.
The Bentley sped out of the parking lot and merged into the traffic... At the third intersection, it suddenly deviated from its usual route home and turned onto a riverside expressway with few vehicles... After a brief pause in the shadow under an overpass, it started again... Finally, this conspicuous black Bentley stopped in front of a low-key and luxurious five-star hotel - the Norman Hotel.
There is no dense traffic or crowds here, and the hotel itself is very strict in protecting the privacy of its guests.
In the video, Frank looked around when he got out of the car, his steps were quick and staggering, as if he was full of panic. He lowered his head and rushed into the revolving door of the hotel, disappearing from the surveillance.
Found it. This guy is at the Norman Hotel.
Eugene pressed the pause button without a smile on his face.
Frank's distraught and frightened appearance was definitely not the kind of person who would abscond with the funds. It was more like he was... hiding from pursuit?
An hour later, Eugene parked his car in an inconspicuous alley two blocks from the Norman Hotel.
He took off his coat, revealing a high-quality white shirt underneath. He then quickly took out a neatly folded waiter uniform with a slight smell of detergent from his bag in the back seat and put it on over the shirt.
Finally, he put on his glasses. In a matter of seconds, he went from a capable Black Rabbit security chief to a slightly tired hotel waiter preparing for his night shift.
Eugene went around to the hotel's employee entrance, used the stolen access card to swipe open the door, and naturally blended into the group of cleaners who were off work and sneaked into the hotel.
The corridor was covered with thick carpet, which made almost no sound when stepped on.
Eugene pushed a small cart from the service room in the corridor and stood in front of Room 1906. He took a deep breath, adjusted his expression, and showed a professional smile.
Ding dang dang!
He knocked three times, his voice clear but not overly loud. "Room service, free refills, sir?"
There was dead silence inside the door.
Eugene waited patiently for ten seconds, then knocked on the door again, raising his voice slightly: "Sir? Restocking?"
After a few seconds, the door chain was pulled with a "clatter" sound, and the door slowly opened a crack, revealing Frank's pale, frightened, bloodshot eyes and half of his face.
He was still wearing that wrinkled, expensive suit, his tie was loose, his hair was messy, and he exuded an air of despair.
"I... I didn't call for service!" Frank's voice was dry and hoarse, with extreme nervousness, and his eyes quickly scanned Eugene's face and the corridor behind him.
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