The white gunman couldn't fire his weapon because Security Team Three had warned them, so the security team had already drawn their guns as they approached.
The moment the white gunman raised his rifle, over a dozen .45 caliber hollow-point bullets, sparking, pierced through the thin body of the van.
The shattered bullet fragments and metal shrapnel splattered inside the vehicle, causing the people inside to scream and yell.
Because the initial velocity wasn't very high, the fragmented bullets didn't inflict any fatal injuries on the assassins inside the car.
However, a dozen or so bleeding small holes on their bodies were enough to cause considerable pain.
"Go, go, go!" The security personnel who had gotten out of the car kicked away the gun from the still wailing white man's hand before jumping back into the vehicle.
"Mr. Happy, please follow us closely!" The lead car's engine roared, and its tires screeched, leaving charred marks on the ground.
"I'm following, I'm following!" Happy spat out the window, then gripped the steering wheel with both hands, focusing all his attention on the road ahead.
Pepper, her face pale with fright, took out her phone and called Tony Stark.
"What? Why aren't you staying put!" Stark was both anxious and angry, wishing he could slap his secretary on the forehead.
"You said those things had to be given to you immediately, and I didn't have internet or a portable terminal at hand to send them to you, so I had to come over!"
Pepper was also fuming, and she immediately started arguing with Stark over the phone.
"I'm sorry, it's all my fault!" Hearing Pepper's tearful voice, Stark inexplicably felt a pang of regret, thinking he shouldn't have dragged her into this.
"Tell them to drive towards me!" Rhodes gripped the steering wheel with his left hand and picked up the car's radio with his right.
"Hey, lads, get your M16s ready; we're about to have some guests!"
"Received, sir!" Then, a series of cocking sounds came through the radio.
To help his good brother hold the fort, Rhodes had directly brought out a squad from the base's guard unit.
He wanted to see which fool dared to perform violence in front of America's largest violent agency.
The attack by the white van was just the beginning.
The convoy hadn't gone far when a motorcycle roared up behind them.
The rider pulled out an Uzi submachine gun and started spraying bullets, which clanged against the body of the rear escort vehicle, kicking up white sparks.
After realizing his weapon couldn't penetrate the car's exterior, the rider gave up the chase, turned onto another road, threw the empty Uzi into the Potomac, and then sped off, disappearing into the city.
Of course, there were assassins who gave up, and there were also those who were stubborn.
A large truck, very common on interstates, also joined the fray.
The driver honked his horn all the way, driving the truck at full speed towards the speeding convoy.
At this point, the security team escorting Pepper also became anxious.
They rolled down their windows and unleashed a barrage of gunfire at the truck's windshield.
Meanwhile, an unconventional-looking head emerged from the truck, holding a short-barreled shotgun, and both sides exchanged fire from dozens of meters apart.
Fortunately, this was the outskirts of the city, so the intense crossfire didn't accidentally injure civilians; at most, some flowers and plants were shredded by stray bullets.
However, precisely because this was the outskirts, the Washington police couldn't arrive here for a while, so both sides could only fight and flee.
"Damn it, I'm definitely going to apply for carbines or PDWs next time, or at least a shotgun!"
The female team leader cursed as she reloaded her pistol with a new magazine.
The assassin's truck had been modified; its hood and windows were bulletproof, so they had already fired over a hundred shots, but the opponent was still unharmed.
However, the opponent's modifications were not without cost; the extra weight provided by the armor meant that the truck's engine was always slightly behind the convoy.
In other words, the opponent could at most maintain this distance, but narrowing it was out of the question.
"Get ready, they're coming!" Rhodes gripped his 1911 with a certain Patton-esque flair.
He directed his soldiers to park the jeeps on both sides of the road, preparing to open fire and block the enemy once Pepper arrived.
As the sound of gunfire grew closer, Stark's heart tightened.
"If I had my suit right now, wouldn't all these problems be solved!"
Stark, rubbing his hands, completely failed to notice that he had just had a new idea about his suit.
However, even if he did remember, he would wait until his little secretary was safe before thinking about it.
"Sir, they're here!" A soldier shouted, pointing at the cars speeding towards them in the distance.
"Good, everyone aim carefully, focus on the truck behind!"
Seeing the military appear in front of them, the Gigant's security team's spirits lifted.
That truck behind them was like a sticky candy, impossible to shake off.
Now with reinforcements, if the driver still wanted to go back, he should have given up.
Unfortunately, it seemed this driver was either high on drugs or determined to get those two million.
The truck let out a long honk, then, following closely behind the Gigant's Mercedes, it crashed into the Humvees on both sides of the road.
The Air Force soldiers hiding behind them could only scramble to get out of the way.
At this moment, Colonel Rhodes reacted the fastest.
He grabbed his M16 and emptied a magazine into the truck's radiator.
With the radiator blown, the assassin finally panicked, but it was too late to run.
He could only grit his teeth, turn the truck, and drive into the woods below the road.
However, Rhodes naturally wouldn't let this opportunity for credit slip away.
With a wave of his hand, he led his soldiers in pursuit.
And Stark, naturally, strode quickly towards his secretary.
"Get out of the way, Happy!" Pushing away the driver who tried to hug him, Stark pulled Pepper into his arms, his face full of apology.
"I'm sorry, Pepper, I shouldn't have let you go!"
"It's okay, I'm really okay, here's the data!" Pepper's tear stains hadn't dried, but she maintained her last bit of strength in front of her boss.
She tremblingly took out a USB drive from her tightly clutched bag and handed it to Stark.
"This is evidence of Obadiah selling weapons.
He kept a ledger, clearly recording every transaction, who he sold to, and what goods they were."
"Okay, I understand!" Stark nodded.
He had previously regarded Obadiah as his most important reliance, but now it seemed that this reliance was the one who had harmed him the most deeply.
"Hello, is this Director Martin? This is Tony Stark.
I have a document here that can incriminate Obadiah, the executive director of Stark Industries, for treason.
I wonder if you're interested!"
After taking the USB drive and quickly glancing at its contents, Stark called a familiar friend at the New York FBI.