Song Heping and Jiang Feng approached the Volkswagen from behind, one on the left and the other on the right.
White Bear and his spouse in the rear seat took care of the Toyota, approaching from behind on the left and right as well.
They hadn't fired yet when Hunter's vehicle behind them had already opened fire.
Just as they got out of the car, the motorcycle was about twenty ters away from the vehicle.
As Song Heping had guessed, one of the two helted assassins on the bike, the one sitting at the back, had already drawn out an Uzi submachine gun.
In xico, such motorcyclists are common murderers.
All drug cartels have a group of assassins specifically tasked with assassinations. Most of them are orphans who, after being taken under the wing of the cartels, are given rudintary training. They're known for their ruthlessness – riding a motorcycle close to their target, quickly spraying bullets, and then swiftly leaving the scene.
These assassins face enormous risks.
But the rewards are also substantial.
As long as they don't die, they not only receive a hefty bonus, but they can also be promoted and gain a higher status in the criminal world.
Therefore, when it cos to being desperadoes, these assassins are even more reckless than the average drug trafficking group mber and do not care about their own lives.
However, no matter how reckless they are, they are not formally military trained, which marks a distinct difference from the experienced veterans led by Song Heping.
They showed their guns before they reached the vehicle.
This job was a bit crude.
Hunter certainly wouldn't indulge them, using the car door as cover, propped up the M4A1 assault rifle against the edge of the door for simple support, and fired a burst.
Pop pop—
The bullets pierced through the rider's body and then burrowed into the gunman's.
The motorcycle lost control, slid to the ground, and scraped a trail of sparks on the road.
"Watch the blue pickup on the left!"
As he opened fire, he warned Disaster Star, Barrett, and Moretti.
Disaster Star said to Moretti, "You provide cover, Barrett co with ."
The two leveled their guns and aid at a blue pickup parked behind them.
The four n in the vehicle saw Disaster Star and the others aiming their guns at them and showed complicated expressions on their faces.
Hunter aid his gun and walked towards the motorcycle riders.
Both were lying on the ground; the rider was breathless, while the gunman was still squirming, unbelievably reaching to pick up the gun that fell a few ters away.
"Seeking death."
Hunter didn't hesitate and gave two more bursts to both n.
Pop pop—
Pop pop—
Both n took their last breaths.
After all of this, Hunter imdiately turned towards the blue pickup, coordinating with Disaster Star from different directions to approach.
At the front red light, Song Heping and the others had already surrounded the two suspicious sedans.
Both teams positioned themselves at the rear side of the vehicles, an advantageous spot as people inside the vehicle have to turn around to fire, and it's cramped inside, making it difficult to maneuver long guns, with large, ti-consuming movents, giving the people outside sufficient ti to respond with gunfire.
"Raise your hands and get out of the car!"
Song Heping shouted in Spanish.
Bystanders seeing the situation hurriedly hid in shops and street corners, peeking out to watch the excitent.
"Get out! Don't be stupid! Police will be here soon!"
Before getting out, Song Heping had already called the police.
Although he knew that in xico, the police were of little use.
But at least calling them was a form of reporting, legitimizing the forthcoming killings.
Moreover, he was currently using the paperwork and identity provided by the CIA, and having just helped the xican governnt catch Shorty and his gang, retaliatory killing was nothing but normal.
People in the vehicles were moving.
But they didn't get out.
It seed they were also hesitating.
Song Heping faintly saw soone reaching for a long gun.
"They have guns! Take them down!"
Pop pop pop—
Pop pop pop—
Pop pop pop—
Jiang Feng and the others, already unable to contain themselves, imdiately fired bursts at the two sedans.
The car windows burst open with holes as white shards of glass scattered.
Blood sprayed out, dyeing the glass red.
He fired his gun, and the people in the blue pickup behind panicked too, one of them starting to draw his own weapon.
Before he managed to pull it out, his body was already riddled with bullet holes.
Pop pop pop—
Pop pop pop—
The team behind also opened fire to neutralize the threat.
Song Heping was not a policeman; they were rcenaries of the Defense Company, unhesitating killers, ensuring their targets had no chance of survival.
Soon, the gunfire ceased, and a fat woman from an innocent vehicle opened her door, screaming as she raised her hands and quickly ran towards the roadside, soon disappearing around the corner.
Song Heping gave Jiang Feng a aningful glance; he would cover him while Jiang Feng advanced.
The two approached the green Volkswagen sedan, one in front and one behind. After opening the car door, Jiang Feng stepped aside.
A man tumbled out, drenched in blood, an AK74U submachine gun fallen from his grasp.
After kicking the gun away, Jiang Feng glanced at the backseat.
The two passengers there were already breathless.
Song Heping moved to the front and saw a gangster at the driver's seat leaning on the chair, his chest heaving. He was still alive but was gasping and coughing up blood in large amounts; it was clear the blood in his chest cavity had entered his windpipe. It would have been possible to save him with a chest tube surgery and get him to hang on until the ambulance arrived.
But Song Heping had no intention of sparing his life. For these desperados, removing one from the streets was akin to saving lives.
Pop pop—
Song Heping fired additional shots.
Pop pop—
The others around him did the sa.
In less than five minutes.
A motorcycle, a pickup, two sedans, a total of fourteen gang mbers, all went to et their maker.
Just as everyone finished the job, the sound of police sirens could finally be heard from afar.
Jiang Feng lit a cigarette for after the action and said to Song Heping with a smile, "Why are the police always late to the party?"
Song Heping replied, "In xico, it's already good that they show up at all!"
White Bear asked, "Boss, are we still going for barbecue?"
Song Heping answered, "Of course, we'll let the police clear the way for us. A group just died, I bet no one would dare to co for us again anyti soon."
While Song Heping and his group were ambushed on the city streets, the road beside Altiblano Prison was also bustling with activity.
The construction site was encircled by Gus leading a dozen or so prison guards.
But the construction foreman didn't flinch at this group of prison guards.
"Why do you want us to stop working and submit to an inspection? We're working outside your territory!" The foreman, wearing a white helt, argued forcefully, not accepting the authority.
"You are constructing near our prison, posing a threat to us. We need to check for safety, what's wrong with that?! Move aside! We need to inspect the site!"
Gus didn't expect to encounter such resistance.
A bunch of construction workers daring to stand up to him?
"This is a municipal sewer maintenance project. If you have an issue, you can call and verify with our superiors. Without orders from our higher-ups, you are not allowed to enter here for inspection!"
The foreman was still defiant, raising his hand and pointing towards a warning sign, "Can't you read?! The sign says so! Construction zone, no unauthorized entry!"
"Move aside!"
Gus waved his hand, and the dozen or so prison guards, ard with batons, prepared to force their way in.
He didn't want to reason with this foreman anymore.
The more the foreman resisted the inspection, the more Gus felt that Ganard might have been right—there was sothing fishy about this construction site!
"How dare you!"
Dozens of construction workers gathered around, each holding tools—iron rods, steel bars, wrenches, crowbars…
You na it.
The advantage in numbers was clearly displayed.
The construction site had more people.
Gus was furious, reaching for the handgun at his waist.
But in the end, he stopped himself.
Shooting at the municipal construction crew without sufficient reason might get him fired, not to ntion end up in jail.
Besides, the people from the municipal departnt were not to be trifled with. If he acted unreasonably, they could very well bring a manure truck and dump it right outside the prison gates.
"Wait and see! Brothers, let's go!"
Gus spat out a sentence through clenched teeth and led the guards away dejectedly.
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