The night wraps around Los Angeles, and the bright neon lights embellish this bustling city into a city that never sleeps.
The cool sea breeze blew through the streets, blowing away the heat accumulated during the day. The crowds of people on the street corners did not decrease at all, and the halo of the car lights spread out a layer of fog-colored outlines.
This is the economic and cultural center of the west coast of North America. Hundreds of years of peace have allowed it to accumulate unimaginable wealth. Even though there have been some minor setbacks recently, people's faces have not been covered with solemn clouds.
Regardless of their ethnicity, people are sincerely proud of this city and believe that tomorrow will be better.
Late night also belongs to Venice Street.
Due to the recent attacks, defenses around the New Zealand embassy have been adjusted. After consulting the White House, the FI detached a part of its agents to assist the Los Angeles police in investigating terrorist attacks that occurred during the parade, and those detached agents were replaced by the CIA.
Wearing a black coat, Brad leaned against the door of the car. Because the target has been staying in the embassy these days, as Lawrence's right-hand man, he temporarily took over the embassy defense.
Looking at the lights inside the embassy, Brad couldn't help but feel a little bored.
Even the most arrogant terrorists would not have the strength and courage to storm the jointly escorted New Zealand embassy. Support helicopters are on standby on the apron of the FI branch, and an FI sniper squad is deployed not far away. It is no exaggeration to say that the security level here is second only to three places.
The Pentagon, the White House, and Congress.
Like a door god, the CIA agent standing directly opposite him handed out a cigarette and grinned.
"Smoking?"
"Thanks."
Brad took the cigarette and held it in his mouth, took out his lighter, and lit the cigarette. The CIA agent who handed him the cigarette couldn't wait to borrow the lighter, lit one for himself, and blew out the smoke ring happily.
"My name is Alvin Keynes, what's yours?"
"Brad Wayne."
"How many times have you been on a mission?" Keynes asked.
"I don't remember." Brad shook his head.
There was a trace of surprise on Keynes's face, and then a look of interest appeared.
"Don't remember? Shet, you must be an old guy. Have you been to Iraq?"
"No, my work is mainly at home." Brad shook his head.
He had begun to feel that the man in front of him was a bit talkative. However, Mr. Keynes was not self-conscious at all. Instead of stopping talking, he vividly talked about his service life in Iraq.
"I've been there and it's terrible, there's sand everywhere, camels, bombs... "
Brad frowned slightly as he listened to the gushing voices of his colleagues across from him.
Smoking is okay, but chatting while on duty is a bit off. Anyone with a little experience knows that chatting can distract attention and weaken the ability to respond to unexpected situations. Although I don’t think anything will happen, attitude is a critical issue.
Brad can now conclude that this agent is most likely a newcomer. The reason for being withdrawn from the front line was probably because the chatter was so serious that it affected the mission.
Turning his gaze to the opposite street, Brad selectively ignored him.
Why would you shoot a new guy here? What on earth were those idiots at the CIA thinking
At the bend across the street, a truck with a Hollywood blockbuster poster parked slowly on the side of the road. There seemed to be something wrong with the car. The owner opened the door and got out of the car, looked around the tires a few times, took out his phone and seemed to call the car repairman, and then walked to the nearby store.
Just when Brad was trying to see clearly what movie was being promoted on the poster, a similar truck also appeared on the other side of the road, slowly driving towards this side with the flow of traffic.
At this moment, Brad frowned slightly, and an indescribable feeling of disobedience came to his heart.
Almost subconsciously, he reached out and took off the walkie-talkie from his shoulder.
"Jamie, that truck is twenty meters to your left, go up and check it out."
"learn."
The plainclothes agent standing next to the car not far away walked towards the truck parked on the roadside. He first looked at the things on the driver's seat, and then walked towards the cargo box behind the truck. However, at this moment, the truck passing by the road in front of the embassy suddenly stopped in the middle of the road.
"There's something wrong with that car." Keynes looked at the middle of the road and said what Brad was thinking.
However, before anyone had time to react, a wisp of flame suddenly burst out from behind the cargo box of the truck in the middle of the road.
"boom!!!"
A crimson fireball suddenly enveloped the entire truck. The shock wave even overturned the car following behind, shattering the windows of all vehicles within a ten-meter radius, as well as the glass showcases of stores. Lawrence lowered his head suddenly, and the flying debris swept over his head almost at the same time.
However, Keynes, who was standing next to him, was not so lucky. A pool of blood had been spread on the iron door behind him, and aluminum alloy fragments brutally penetrated his neck and chest.
The explosion occurred quite suddenly.
Cars scrambling to escape collided with each other, and traffic was first thrown into chaos. People on the street screamed and fled, and the braver ones took out their mobile phones and called the police while running. The car's anti-theft alarm bell blared, exaggerating the chaos on the street...
Although the entrance of the embassy is ten meters away from the road, this distance is nothing to a bomb! Brad immediately pulled out the pistol in his arms and pointed it firmly at the burning wreckage and the chaotic crowd.
In an instant, Brad had already sorted out his attacker's thoughts.
The first wave of attacks just creates chaos!
The real attack is the second wave!
"Damn, are they crazy?!"
Brad looked ferocious, gritted his teeth, and stared at the fleeing crowd, wary of possible attackers. At the same time, he reached for his shoulder and reported the situation here to the FI Los Angeles branch.
"A terrorist attack occurred in front of the New Zealand Embassy! I repeat, a terrorist attack occurred in front of the New Zealand Embassy..."
The fire truck had already sensed it first, and the firefighters wearing breathing apparatus and carrying cans rushed towards the burning wreckage in the middle of the road. However, at this moment, Brad discovered that Jamie, who had gone to investigate the truck parked on the roadside not far away, had fallen into a pool of blood...
The door of the truck had already been opened, and a group of warriors armed to the teeth with black dragon scale armor jumped onto the road with assault rifles in hand.
Without any identification marks, they loaded their weapons uniformly and spread out to the surrounding bunkers like a professional army. The muzzles of the guns in their hands were already pointing this way.
Brad's pupils shrank suddenly.
No matter who they are, one thing is certain, they are definitely not the SATs who came to support us! (.)