Beauty Man's Myriad Hearts

Darryl Richardson's anger is justified and justified.

Wilson Fisk, as the underground king of New York, extended an invitation to him for a cocktail party. Not only was it a sign of surrender, it was definitely a show of goodwill.

Although Wilson and Pushkin did not get along, as an official and a semi-outsider, he did not bother to pay attention to the petty actions of his subordinates.

As long as everyone pays their dues on time, anyone can be the boss.

Darryl came to the reception happily. He originally planned to use the political donation promised by Wilson to be re-elected as the governor of New York State with a 100% certainty, and to contribute to his political career. Who would have thought that he would encounter such a thing?

Although the enemy's meaning is unknown, Daryl doesn't want to and doesn't dare to take risks.

A great life is waiting to be enjoyed, so how can we stumble here?

"Wilson Fisk?"

Mosley raised his eyebrows. Corresponding to his identity, he finally thought of Pushkin.

Wilson Fisk's true identity may be hidden from ordinary police officers and ordinary FBI agents, but it is no secret in the eyes of senior officials from all parties.

Just when he was planning to throw some dirty water on Kingpin, he should show his kindness to Pushkin.

As a result, Andre's words made him stunned instantly.

"Mr. Governor, Wilson has taken control of the situation. You don't have to panic. I think this farce will be over soon!"

Andre reminded him, his tone was relatively calm, and there was no hint of panic.

When everyone heard this, they raised their heads at the same time and looked at the battle situation.

really.

The two parties moved very quickly in the crowd, looking for cover while raising their guns and shooting.

Both sides seemed to be quite restrained. They only regarded each other as a target and did not attack the surrounding guests casually.

Neither party looks like real terrorists.

Of course Mosley knew the reason.

But from other people's perspective, they know nothing about the situation.

Continuous gunshots, the crisp collision of bullet casings falling to the ground, the sound of stray bullets passing through the air...

intertwined into a chaotic symphony.

Panic, fear, confusion, all kinds of emotions gathered together, and everyone lost the ability to think.

All the gunmen were wearing the uniforms of reception staff, and it was impossible to tell which side was the enemy and which side was one of our own.

Judging from the current situation they are encountering, both sides may be enemies!

"Those with fewer people are our enemies; those with more people are our own."

Mosley observed carefully, gave full play to his professional ability, and spoke with certainty: "This is Wilson Fisk's territory after all. Even if there are enemies mixed in, the number of people cannot be too many... Under any circumstances, Fisk will not

It really got out of hand."

"good."

Andre nodded and glanced at Mosley appreciatively.

"In that case, I'll wait for Wilson Fisk to give me an explanation."

Daryl calmed down and understood the situation.

The current situation may seem dangerous, but in fact it is not truly out of control.

Now that Wilson Fisk's people are already handling it, if there are no accidents, it will be over soon.

If something unexpected happens...

Daryl narrowed his eyes, he would rather believe that this was not possible.

"Agent Mosley, you said that the FBI received intelligence that a terrorist attack would occur here, so you sent people here?"

Suddenly, Daryl looked at Mosley beside him, and his tone suddenly returned to calmness.

"Yes."

Mosley's attitude was respectful, and he seemed to know what the other party wanted to ask, and took the initiative to say: "But the source of the information is unknown and cannot be traced back. We don't know who the other party is."

"So, do you know who the enemy is? Where he comes from?"

Daryl's eyes moved away from him and fell on the group of gunmen in front of him. He noticed the actions of both parties and spoke calmly without being angry:

"Since the other party has the ability to find out the enemy's actions, doesn't it reveal the identity of the enemy in the intelligence? Or... you know it, but you dare not say it?"

"..."

Mosley began to sweat on his forehead.

He heard that Daryl had begun to doubt the truth behind this "terrorist attack".

"Mr. Governor, the fact that the other party was able to sneak into Wilson Fisk's territory fully demonstrates their cunning. The FBI has no merit but hard work, so why bother asking."

Andre smiled slightly and suddenly interjected: "Besides, you received the news in advance, and you did not hesitate to risk yourself to attend the cocktail party, but you also wanted to catch the terrorists who secretly sneaked into New York. If this matter spreads, the people of New York will definitely hate you.

Greater recognition would be a huge help for re-election, wouldn't it?"

"The people of New York need a real man like you as governor who knows that there are tigers in the mountains and prefers to go there... Governors in other places are just a bunch of sissies compared to you, who can only talk nonsense in newspapers

…”

As soon as these words came out, everyone around him was stunned.

Receive news in advance?

You don't even have to go to the county to attend a cocktail party to catch the terrorists?

Are you talking about the Daryl Richardson we just saw who was so frightened that his face turned pale and he almost peed his pants?

Although everyone was an old fox, through dialogue, they realized that behind the attack, it might not be that simple, but hearing these understatement words from Andre still made them feel ashamed.

Can flattery be photographed like this?

You can call anything black into white!!

Fortunately, Andrei did not enter politics. If Andrei joined politics, what would have happened to them?

“Not bad, very good.”

Daryl's eyes lit up, and an idea flashed in his mind. Suddenly, he was so attracted to Andre.

He couldn't help but said: "Mr. Pushkin, you are really my confidant!"

"It's my pleasure."

Andre's smile deepened.

…

the other side.

"Mike, there are so many people on the other side, we can no longer break through... Mike, do you hear me... Fak!!"

A member of the Black Ops Commando hid behind a chair and cursed.

This is another teammate he has lost.

"Guys, how many of us are left? Is anyone alive?"

"Hardy, shut your mouth, we still have a chance."

"How about surrendering?"

"The other side will not accept our surrender. Even if we reveal the CIA's identity, the CIA will not admit it... This is a black operation, and you know what this means."

"Fake, do you think I don't know?"

The only five members of the black ops commando team looked at each other and said something to each other, their tone was anxious, and there was not a good word out of their mouths.

"Keep hostages and fight them!!"

"Do you think the other party will care about the hostages? Man, they are gangsters, and the last thing they value is human life..."

"So, we only have a dead end?"

"No, we can still pray to God for protection..."

boom!

As he spoke, a bullet drew a strange arc, flew past, and pierced Hardy's head.

Halfway through his words, Hardy fell to the ground weakly.

He opened his eyes wide, and blood gurgled from his temples. The despair in his heart dissipated at this moment, and he actually felt a little relieved.

The sound on the call channel suddenly stopped, and the deathly silence was frightening.

Even the most optimistic team members could no longer withstand the overwhelming pressure after witnessing the successive deaths of their teammates.

"Fake, fight them!!"

Bang bang bang!

He rushed out and was undoubtedly shot to death.

There are three people left in the black ops commando team.

However, Wesley and others took their time and slowly surrounded the opponent, gradually eroding their movement space, and never gave the opponent the slightest chance.

The situation is basically under control.

Even people who don't understand the situation will know that one side of the gun battle has basically secured victory.

Da da da!

Under everyone's nervous gazes, Wesley and others surrounded the remaining three people.

But they were not given any chance.

All the fraternity members present who had mastered the art of throwing guns fired in unison.

More than a dozen bullets produced beautiful arc trajectories.

Tsk tsk tsk!!

The remaining three agents were beaten into a sieve, their blood flowed all over the ground, and there was no chance of survival.

"Everyone, you are safe!"

Wesley motioned to all the fraternity brothers to raise their hands, telling the guests that the enemy was dead and we were our own.

Upon seeing this, most of the people in the venue instantly collapsed to the ground, and then they felt unprecedentedly happy that they were not the unlucky ones who were hit by stray bullets.

Justin Hammer is one of them.

He looked at the unlucky guy who was swept away by the initial explosion of the cart and fell in a pool of blood, not knowing whether he was alive or dead. He felt weak all over, gasping for breath, and regretted extremely why he had attended this cocktail party on a whim.

However, his eyes swept across the hall and fell on Wesley and others.

As an arms dealer, he could naturally see that these people's weapons were ordinary, but their shooting skills were astonishingly strong.

Whose subordinates are these people?

Wilson Fisk?

Justin Hammer couldn't help but think.

As a successful businessman, his keen sense of smell made him realize that the truth behind this gun battle was by no means simple.

…

"call--"

Seeing that the battle in the field ended successfully, Daryl ignored the small sacrifices made by innocent people and breathed a sigh of relief, and then joy came to his heart:

"We won."

"Yes."

Andre smiled: "We won!"