Before the truck driver could straighten up, he felt the body of the truck shake slightly and then make a bang.
After working overtime for many days, his reaction was a little slow. He was stunned for a few breaths before he came to his senses, stood up and looked forward.
Seeing an empty space ahead, he was stunned for a moment, but still stepped on the accelerator.
He was afraid that the truck might have a flat tire or some other hidden danger due to continuous work during these days, so he had to stop the truck for inspection.
He slowly parked the car on the side of the road and just as he opened the door he heard a scream. He was startled and looked behind the car.
About ten meters away, I saw an extended Lincoln sticking to the bushes under the shoulder of the road, with the right side of the car dented by one third at the rear.
The truck driver was shocked and realized that he had really crashed a car. He was as sad as a bereaved family: "It's over, it's over, please don't let anyone die."
The company has insured the truck, so just paying for the vehicle isn't a big issue.
But if someone died and the victim's family kept pestering him, he would probably end up going to jail.
Well, but I heard that there are a lot of refugees from San Francisco coming to Los Angeles recently, causing a lot of small cases, and the prisons are not enough, so I should be able to escape. Thinking this in his heart, the driver quickened his pace and ran towards the extended Lincoln.
He could clearly hear someone inside screaming as miserably as if a pig was being slaughtered.
This actually made the driver feel relieved: people who can scream in a car accident are generally not in danger of life, but those who remain silent are likely to die.
…
A moment ago, when Darren was talking to the congressman about future research plans, the two red taillights of the extended Lincoln and the horizontal brake lights on the rear windshield suddenly flashed and went out quietly.
Just then the truck driver turned onto the main road and took a last look at the road ahead.
The dark area between the street lights lacked the eye-catching red color of the taillights, so the truck driver could go get his coffee without any worries.
The driver of the extended Lincoln just made sure there were no cars in front or behind him and started to turn into the main road, when suddenly there was a bright light behind him.
The headlights of the truck reflected in the rearview mirror made the hairs of the security guard on Lincoln stand on end: "There's a car."
Darren and the congressman, sitting on the left and right benches in the back seat, were both stunned: What car
Before they could figure out what the security guard's yell meant, they heard a loud bang. The four people in the Lincoln had buzzing ears for a moment and could not hear anything.
The Lincoln flew sideways to the left, and the people in the car were thrown violently to the right, rushing off the road and stopping only after crashing into the bushes.
After a few seconds, Darren, who was dizzy, shook his head, trying to make himself clearer and see everything clearly.
He saw the congressman opposite him rolling to his feet, groaning weakly.
Darren subconsciously wanted to reach out to help, and suddenly felt a sharp pain coming from his left arm.
He turned his head, widened his eyes, opened his mouth, and took a deep breath: "Ah~~~~"
The left arm in sight was bent into a strange arc, hanging on the deformed body of the car, like two sausages hanging on a hook.
But... this isn't a sausage, it's his arm!
The security guards in front came down and rescued the screaming Darren and the groaning congressman.
After a rough inspection, the two security guards breathed a sigh of relief.
The congressman should be fine, except that his hands and feet joints were sore after he rolled down, and his head and upper body were hit.
Just send it to the hospital for another check-up to be sure there is nothing to worry about.
Darren was both unlucky and lucky, as he was sitting on the right side of the vehicle that was hit by the truck, and one of his arms was crushed into an L shape by the deformed body of the vehicle.
But if he sat another fifty centimeters back on the bench, his entire chest would be deformed and he would most likely die on the spot.
Even though Darren was screaming like a pig being slaughtered, at most he would have one arm that was not flexible, which was much better than losing his life.
More importantly, their employer is the MP, not Darren.
According to security agreements, they are only responsible for the personal safety of the members of parliament.
Strictly speaking, the security guards are not responsible for this sudden traffic accident. After all, no one can guarantee that other cars will not hit them.
But if a congressman is really hit and killed, it will definitely be recorded in their security records, affecting their future income.
Darren's death had nothing to do with them.
Therefore, the security guards could only express a little sympathy for his shrill screams, and then do what they had to do.
…
Luke was stunned when he saw the traffic accident information automatically collected by LAPD. Then he shook his head and laughed: "It's really fast."
After laughing, he thought for a moment and sent a congratulatory message to Dr. Pym: "Darren Kraus was in a car accident 30 minutes ago and broke his arm. He has just been sent to the hospital."
In a three-story building in San Francisco, Dr. Pym was stunned when he saw his cell phone suddenly vibrating.
His phone has a filter setting so junk messages can't be sent.
And he only kept in touch with his daughter, but now his daughter is right in front of him.
He picked up the phone suspiciously, read the message and the signature, and couldn't help but look strange.
His daughter Hope saw that Dr. Pym looked unhappy and asked, "What happened?"
These days, the father and daughter watched Darren getting closer and closer to the correct answer, and they could no longer sit still.
Therefore, Dr. Pym found Scott Lang, who had a unique "invasion" talent, and wanted him to steal the information about Pym particles.
The amount of information on this kind of top-level technology is astronomical, and no one can remember it all in their head.
Even if Darren was a student of Dr. Pym, if he lost the data in those materials, it would take at least another ten or eight years to accumulate the data again.
At present, Pym particles are still top secret, so its information is only available in Pym Technology's mainframe.
During normal research, Darren and other supervisors from various parties work together to retrieve the data.
Everyone knows the huge profits contained in Pym particles.
But no one can be sure how big the profit will be and when it will be completely successful.
Therefore, no one wants others to take away the information, so the situation can only remain deadlocked for the time being.
Once Darren completely solves the problem and an agreement is reached among all parties, the information will have more backups and the Pym particles will inevitably be leaked to several parties.
How could Dr. Pym make these people succeed when Tony's father couldn't succeed
He couldn't miss this last chance.
After frowning and pondering for a long time, Dr. Pym made up his mind and looked at Scott who was eating cereal not far away: "You must prepare immediately. We must destroy the backup data of Pym Technology tonight. This is the opportunity God has given us. Everything depends on you, Scott."
Scott paused holding the spoon, looking at Dr. Pym in bewilderment. "I just ran to the Avengers' new base yesterday and had a fight with that War Machine. It was great that I was able to survive and get the signal disguiser back from an Avenger. Now you're doing this again?"
Dr. Pym looked at him seriously for a moment, then nodded slowly: "I have a friend who just helped break Darren's arm. Darren is undergoing surgery in the hospital, and there will be no danger this time."
Hope and Scott looked surprised and asked in unison, "Really?"