Chapter 322: The Enemy in Los Angeles
After removing the window frame, Arthur was the first to climb out. Ron grabbed a spare rope and followed suit.
Arthur had chosen the 54th floor; just four more floors to reach the 58th floor, the rooftop pool where their target swam.
Although Ron didn't understand why these so-called high rollers preferred such unique locations for their workouts, it didn't stop him from inserting a hook into the gap between the windows and following Arthur, slowly climbing upwards.
This route was one Arthur had chosen during his reconnaissance. From the bottom up, no one was working on these floors, and the two made their way to the bottom of the swimming pool.
"Give me the suction cup," Arthur said, reaching out. "You know you didn't actually have to come up here."
"Of course I know, I was just curious about the kind of work you do, and wanted to experience it firsthand. After all, witnessing the work of a legendary mechanic isn't an easy opportunity..."
"Shh!" Arthur put his index finger to his lips, making a shushing gesture, then pointed upwards. Ron looked over and saw a bodyguard with a gun pacing back and forth by the pool.
"I don't understand, why not just kill them all instead of going through this unnecessary trouble?" Ron asked again after the bodyguard left.
"If it were just about killing people, that would be too easy. Many of my clients could have taken care of their targets themselves, but they often couldn't handle the blowback that would follow."
Arthur's face showed a hint of pride as he spoke of his expertise. "That's why I'm needed to step in and disguise the target's death as an accident, saving them from retaliation. Now give me that."
Arthur drilled a hole in the bottom of the swimming pool and reached out to Ron again. Ron deftly handed him the special reagent Arthur had prepared beforehand.
It was a special chemical compound that, upon contact with tempered glass, would immediately cause the glass to crack and shatter rapidly, as if subjected to excessive force. Most interestingly, this chemical left no residue after the reaction, making it undetectable even by forensic testing. The mechanic was indeed quite skilled.
On the rooftop, the target, Cook, with the help of his subordinates, took off his bathrobe, did a few warm-up exercises poolside, and then plunged into the water with a splash.
He'd barely swam a couple of strokes when he noticed a bald man and another fit man smiling and waving at him from beneath the glass base of the swimming pool.
As a seasoned human trafficker, Cook had survived countless assassination attempts; he certainly didn't believe the two men below were just waving because of his good looks. He quickly swam upwards, trying to surface and call for help from his bodyguards.
But Arthur didn't give him the chance.
Crack, crack...
Cracks began to appear on the bottom of the swimming pool, centered on the small hole Arthur had just calculated, and these cracks seemed to multiply exponentially.
Finally, unable to withstand the pressure, it shattered with a loud crash, creating a hole at the bottom. The water rushed down the hole, forming a massive whirlpool in the pool, drawing everything in with it towards the hole at the bottom.
"Help... gurgle..." Cook only managed to utter the first syllable before choking on water.
The bodyguards, who had already sensed something was wrong, scrambled to their feet, but none dared to jump into the water to save Cook. They all knew that in this situation, jumping in would be tantamount to suicide, and while Cook paid them well, it wasn't enough to justify risking their lives.
"Ahhhhhh! THUD!"
After a scream that seemed to pierce through 58 floors, Cook crashed to the ground like a sack of meat, his flesh and blood stuck tightly to the pavement like the most stubborn gum, impossible to remove without considerable effort.
"Ugh!" Ron, who had found a rope and swung back to his room, spat out the gum in his mouth. "I'm never chewing gum again."
While he was complaining, Arthur had already changed back into his maintenance uniform. "Mission accomplished. We'll split up and leave now. You keep a close eye on my movements. I'll make a video call to Crane in about an hour. Make sure you can pinpoint Gina's location then."
Ron gave Arthur an OK sign, indicating that he could rest assured.
"Billionaire Adrian Cook just fell to his death from the 58th floor. The cause of death was a broken glass wall in the swimming pool of his penthouse apartment in Sydney. Preliminary investigations suggest it was an accident..."
In Los Angeles, California, on a yacht outside the harbor, a cold-faced man watched a breaking news report, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. He patted his bodyguard: "Go call Arthur."
"OK." The bodyguard got up and went to a completely sealed cabin next door. Arthur's fiancée, Gina, was strapped to a chair in the middle, a camera pointed directly at her. If you didn't see the ropes binding her, the scene looked exactly like a hostage video.
"Gina, are you alright?" As soon as the video call connected, Arthur stared intently at the screen, asking with concern.
Although Crane had promised to take care of his girlfriend, Arthur didn't dare trust the word of such a man.
"I'm fine." Gina had barely answered when the camera was immediately taken over by the bodyguard who had just untied her: "Alright, you've seen your woman. Now I'll tell you about the third mission Crane has for you.
His name is Max Adams, a wealthy American arms dealer. He has a private security compound in California, where he usually stays..."
Arthur listened to the mission briefing, constantly asking for details to buy time, while anxiously staring at another phone behind the computer. He was about to run out of things to say, hoping Ron would hurry up a little...
Ring~
The phone rang, and a look of relief flashed across Arthur's face. Ron had succeeded!
"Alright, I understand. You guys wait, I'll finish the mission soon, but before that, you must take good care of Gina."
Arthur hung up the video call and immediately picked up his phone. The message from Ron only had coordinates. He entered the coordinates into the map, but it didn't show a location belonging to any city.
Instead, it was a small point in the ocean more than 60 miles off the coast of Los Angeles, on a large yacht owned by Crane.
Three days later, not far off the coast, another small yacht was unknowingly getting closer and closer. Although this small yacht was much smaller than Crane's, it had six cabins, enough to meet the needs of a family fishing trip.
But most of the time, it couldn't even accommodate all six people. For example, right now, there was no one else on board except Ron.
As Ron was fishing at the stern, Arthur's head suddenly appeared in the water in front of him: "Boss, I think it's a mistake for just the two of us to come!"
Arthur had just used the underwater scooter to dive under Crane's yacht to scout, and the results were far from optimistic: "There are at least twenty people on that ship, all of them experts with various weapons, Crane's most capable men. I think we should retreat to shore and rescue Gina using backup."
"Then I have to remind you again, I am the boss."
"But..."
"There are no buts. You insisted on not bringing support, so there's nothing we can do but use the simplest method." Ron waved his hand, indicating that Arthur didn't need to say anything more: "Remember, the repair cost for this yacht will be deducted from your bonus. Now, let's begin!"
Arthur grabbed the underwater scooter and dived back into the sea, while Ron threw down his fishing rod, climbed into the wheelhouse, and restarted the boat.
"Boss, a small yacht is rapidly approaching us at 45 degrees to port. Should we warn it?" On Crane's yacht, the bodyguard immediately noticed the unusual activity on Ron's vessel.
Crane frowned. "No, I think it's probably just out fishing. Let's not create unnecessary trouble."
He was currently using Arthur's superior assassination skills to eliminate his third competitor. If he successfully eliminated these three men and no one suspected him, he would successfully absorb all the power of these three unfortunate souls, becoming a new giant in the international underground arms trade. Even Yuri, the most powerful figure in the US, would be nothing compared to the power he was about to acquire.
At that time, he could even influence the US military's equipment procurement contracts, and even further, affect Capitol Hill policies. Whenever he thought of this, Crane felt a bright future ahead.
Unfortunately, this good mood wouldn't last long.
With a loud crash, the ship shook violently. Nearly falling off the sofa, Crane grabbed the armrest: "Damn it! What's going on outside?"
"Boss, that yacht just collided with our ship. What do we do now?"
Crane's face turned cold. He made a cutting gesture with his hand across his neck: "Take a few men and go check it out. Since someone's so clueless, let's send them to Davy Jones' locker. Anyway, this is the deep sea; there are plenty of sharks. They can clean up any trace of it."
"Understood, boss."
...
"Sorry, I accidentally dozed off while sailing," Ron said apologetically to the bodyguards as he emerged from the cabin, wearing flip-flops, board shorts, a Hawaiian shirt, and a fishing cap.
"Your boat is huge! It must hold about 50 people, right? You're loaded!" Ron said enviously, his tone dripping with awe. "Unlike me, I can only afford a little yacht that barely fits six people. How much did you pay for this boat? The maintenance must be insane..."
The bodyguard on the yacht looked impatient. Ron's incessant chatter was driving him crazy, but out of respect for his boss's orders not to cause any trouble, he could only glare at Ron, his invisible anger seemingly about to consume him.
Fortunately, this situation didn't last long. The boss's personal bodyguard stepped out of the cabin: "Richard!"
The bodyguard called, making a slashing gesture across his neck before pointing at Ron.
The bodyguard's impatience instantly turned to glee, and he licked his lips greedily. Opposite him, the troublemaker who had been chattering incessantly finally realized something was wrong.
"Wait! What are you doing?!" Ron cried out in a terrified voice, "You're not going to hurt me, are you? Please, please don't! I'm willing to compensate you for the damage to your yacht. I have plenty of money, and even if it's not enough, I can sell my own boat to compensate you. Please, please don't hurt me!"
Ron was putting on a dramatic performance, perfectly portraying himself as a victim. Arthur, who had already swum to the other side of the yacht using his underwater propulsion device, rolled his eyes and almost burst out laughing.
This boss was great in every way, except he loved to showboat too much.
"Let you go? You dare disturb my afternoon? You think you can just walk away like that? Hand over everything of value you have on your boat. Maybe if I like what I see, I'll let you off the hook!" The bodyguard, who had been given the green light, raised his gun, pointing it at Ron.
The bodyguard spoke, but he had no intention of letting Ron go. He just wanted to toy with Ron one last time, squeezing out the last bit of value from him. He often used this trick on his victims. The other mercenaries around him knew his nature well and burst into laughter, mocking Ron, waiting to see how this poor sucker would struggle in the end.
"Something valuable?" Ron lowered his head, the brim of his wide fishing cap obscuring his expression, but his tone was strangely ominous. "You mean this?"
Ron raised his hand and tossed something to the bodyguard. The bodyguard quickly caught it, but as soon as he saw what it was, he was terrified: "SHIT! It's a grenade!"
The bodyguard, like it was a hot potato, quickly threw the grenade into the sea.
"BOOM!" The force of the explosion created a column of water on the ocean surface.
"Damn it! How dare you mess with me!" The bodyguard had just gotten back up and immediately looked towards the opposite ship for Ron, but Ron was nowhere to be seen.
Two round, pin-pulled objects flew towards him—more grenades.
"Again?" This time, Ron wasn't throwing them directly at him, and there were two at once. He couldn't catch them both. Left with no other choice, the bodyguard hit the deck again to avoid the explosions, but this was exactly what Ron wanted.
(End of Chapter)
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