Chapter 149 Sniper?

Hearing Raymond's earnest warning, Leon sat in his office chair, his lips curving into a wide grin, barely managing to suppress a laugh.

All I can say is that this fat guy has a really good eye for people.

"Don't worry, Lao Lei, don't you know how I handle things?"

Lyon put away the documents, patted his chest in a mock-serious manner, and solemnly assured them:

"I will keep a close eye on Chloe, and every gram of gunpowder will only be used under my orders."

"Moreover, we are all professionally trained, so we will definitely use it 'carefully' and will absolutely not detonate it indiscriminately."

Raymond's heart skipped a beat when he saw Leon's ambiguous smile, and a chill ran down his spine.

It’s over.

He'd known Lyon for a long time, and whenever the kid acted so understanding, it was never anything good.

"God, the biggest regret of my life is meeting you."

Raymond clutched his forehead in pain, his voice trembling:

"Vance, I'm begging you, this privilege was something the chief managed to pry out of those old foxes at City Hall with great difficulty."

"Don't you dare tell me you're planning to instruct that crazy woman to stick the tamper-evident door patch directly onto the suspect's body!"

"That thing, even with a small amount of explosive, is still a high explosive! If you put it directly on someone, it will blow them to pieces!"

"Apply it to people?"

Leon paused for a moment, then gave Raymond a thumbs-up, a look of sudden realization on his face.

"Wow, Garcia, you office workers really have amazing imaginations. I never thought of this before. I've learned something new."

"You're wasting your talents on office work. Your tactical thinking is even more agile than mine. I'll use your theories next time I write a report on the use of force!"

"Shut up! I never fucking ordered you to do that!"

Raymond was so angry he almost fainted. He didn't want to say another word, covered his forehead, and turned to leave the office as if avoiding a plague.

Leon watched Raymond's retreating figure, then slowly stood up and straightened his collar.

It's time for them to start their jobs.

He picked up the car keys on the table, intending to go out and find some small cases on the street to collect protection money from gangsters, to test the mettle of the two newcomers.

……

Meanwhile, in Seattle's West Side, on the outskirts of the old neighborhood where Lyon once lived.

Atop a water tower about 600 meters away from the apartment building, a cold wind howled.

A man wearing a dark black windbreaker is lying on a sleeping mat.

His name is K, and he is a professional assassin who is extremely active on the dark web.

Before retiring, he was a top sniper in the U.S. Marine Corps Special Operations Command.

At that moment, K was using a Swarovski high-powered optical scope on a custom-made TAC-50 sniper rifle to lock onto the entrance of the old apartment building a few hundred meters away.

Two meters away from him, his partner and observer, "Ghost," was holding a high-precision Leica rangefinder, constantly calculating wind speed and humidity.

"Sizzle..."

A slight electrical hum suddenly came through the bone conduction headphones hanging on their ears.

"Here's the wrench. The ACU afternoon meeting is over. Target Leon Vance just showed up at the West Precinct; they're officially on duty now."

"Let's retreat. The employer's information is problematic."

The third teammate in charge of gathering intelligence on the perimeter has sent back the latest news.

Upon hearing this, sniper K frowned, looked away from behind the scope, and skillfully pulled back the bolt, ejecting a bullet that hadn't yet been fired, before stuffing it into the pocket of his tactical vest.

"knock off."

K climbed off the sleeping mat and deftly began disassembling the heavy sniper rifle:

"The intelligence was wrong. We stood in the cold wind on this broken water tower for three whole days, and the target didn't even show up."

"Now that he's back at the police station, it means he hasn't been back to this place at all these past few days. He's probably moved out a long time ago."

The ghost didn't speak, but silently began to tidy up the rangefinder and anemometer next to it.

They are shadows wandering the underground world.

This order was posted directly from "Silk Road" or some similar high-level dark web platform.

In the deep web black market built by the Tor Network, the employer's identity is completely encrypted and hidden.

The employer deposits payment, usually in Bitcoin or Monero, into a escrow account on the dark web platform. The platform then uses a coin mixer to conceal the flow of funds before issuing the task.

The hitman accepts a job, completes the task, and uploads evidence, such as photos of the target's death scene. After the platform confirms the information, it deducts a handling fee and automatically transfers the remaining money to the K team's cold wallet.

As assassins who take on orders, K and his team have no idea who their employers are.

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It could be remnants of the 12th Street Boys gang who were thwarted by Lyon, a drug lord in Mexico, the Bloods gang that was previously severely weakened, or even a politician in City Hall who doesn't like Lyon.

But none of that matters.

Their only goal was to kill Leon Vance and then take the money and leave.

As for the political upheaval that killing this heroic patrolman would cause, how crazy the Seattle Police Department would go, or whether local gangs would fight tooth and nail for territory, none of that was within their consideration.

"Wrench, we need to relocate his new address. Now that he's back at the police station, he'll have to go home after get off work."

"Remember, always avoid work hours. We can only act during his private time."

There are unspoken rules in the industry that involve taking money to do things.

In this country, killing a "police officer on duty" is tantamount to declaring war on the entire American law enforcement system.

The police department represents the highest level of "officer attack" alert, 10-13, which will be triggered immediately, and thousands of Seattle police officers will rampage through the city like mad dogs.

If it's classified as a terrorist attack, things will be even worse; the FBI and the National Guard will get involved.

When crushed by this level of state violence, even former special forces soldiers would have no chance of escape.

But if you make your move after the target has finished get off work, when he is wearing casual clothes and smoking in a dark alley, or buying beer at a convenience store.

So they didn't kill the Seattle Police Department's ACU team leader, but just an ordinary citizen named "Leon Vance".

Although it's essentially the same thing, the police will still be angry, but as long as they make the scene look like a normal revenge killing or robbery-murder, and don't make things too ugly or provoke the bottom line of the entire police system, the police won't expend all their resources on a relentless manhunt.

"Clean up all the traces and then we'll reconnoiter the area outside the branch office."

K stuffed the disassembled gun barrel into his tactical backpack and zipped it up.

Just as he turned around to climb down the iron ladder of the water tower.

"etc."

The observer ghost, who had been lying on the edge making a final scan through the binoculars, suddenly called out to him.

The ghost's fingers held the focus of the rangefinder, his gaze fixed on the first-floor entrance of the old apartment building.

K stopped what he was doing and, following Ghost's gaze, raised the high-powered tactical binoculars hanging around his neck.

The camera quickly zoomed in, focusing on the entrance to the old apartment building 600 meters away.

There were two men standing there.

The two men were dressed in well-tailored dark gray and black bespoke suits, their shoes were polished to a shine, and they stood tall and straight.

In a working-class neighborhood filled with ripped jeans and hoodies, and where the air reeks of marijuana, these two looked like they'd just stepped out of Wall Street, creating an overwhelming sense of incongruity.

They clearly didn't have the building's electronic access card.

After standing at the door for a moment, the two went directly to the security guard's office next door and started talking to the old man in the hoodie inside through the glass.

"Companions?"

K's brows immediately furrowed into a deep frown.

When taking orders on the dark web, the biggest taboo is for employers to hire several groups of people simultaneously in order to ensure a higher success rate. This is against the rules, but it does happen occasionally.

For them, this not only meant that if the other party made the first move, all the cold wind they had been blowing these past few days would have been for nothing, but more importantly, K thought the two guys in suits in front of him were hopelessly stupid.

"Which third-rate agency hired these idiots in suits as outsourced workers?"

K looked at the image through the telescope, his tone becoming extremely annoyed and irritated:

"Dressed like a fund manager going to work on Wall Street, he didn't even bother to change into a proper disguise, and went straight to the vicinity of the target's residence to scout the area?"

"Are they afraid the target won't know someone is investigating him? That would definitely alert him."

If Leon Vance gets alarmed by these two idiots, their subsequent sniping mission will become exponentially more difficult.

The observer ghost lying nearby remained absolutely silent, offering no response to his companion's complaints, but simply raised the rangefinder and anemometer in his hand again.

At that moment, the sound of an intelligence agent using a wrench came through the bone conduction headphones.

"Don't make wild guesses, K. It doesn't necessarily mean you're in the same industry."

Wrench calmly said over the communication channel:

"In this city, every day people are looking for all sorts of people."

"He could be a loan shark, an undercover agent, or even someone looking for their wife; anything is possible."

"Don't make such pointless speculations. We have our own mission to complete, so let's not create any unnecessary trouble. Get back here immediately; we need to reconnoiter the area outside the police station."

K snorted coldly, said nothing more, turned around and quickly slid down the iron ladder of the water tower.