Murdoch's voice came from the intercom, "There are patrol officers coming." He was using a drone to monitor the movements of nearby police officers.
"Everyone speed up and start evacuating according to the pre-planned route, and then gather at the safe house in District 5."
After the explosion, Sito Riera's men finally pushed out the car blocking the gate under the cover of smoke bombs, but it was already too late.
Several people were separated, armed with heavy weapons, and drove out to chase. Although the possibility of catching up was low, we still had to give it a try.
"Murad..." Sito looked for Murad among the corpses on the ground and the cars full of bullet holes. He also knew in his heart that this time was a disaster.
Finally, his people finally found the gangster who had changed beyond recognition through his clothes. A big hole was opened in his face by the bullet, his two eyes were squeezed out of the sockets, and all the facial features were no longer in their original positions.
Sito Riera's expression was full of resentment and hatred. He wanted to find the attackers right now and kill them in the most brutal way.
"They are Russians,..." a weak voice said from the side. This was one of Murad's bodyguards. "They all speak Russian." He was also the only person in the convoy who survived.
His voice sounded like it was coming from an old bellows. He had been shot twice in the lungs. If he hadn't been sent to the hospital, he probably wouldn't have lived much longer.
Listening to the sirens in the distance, everyone knew that it was impossible to send him to the hospital now. "Sorry, brother." Sito knelt down and looked at him expressionlessly, "Don't worry, I will take good care of your family.
, I will catch those people."
After saying this, he stood up and pointed the Beretta 92F in his hand at the bodyguard. With a bang, the young bodyguard fell to the ground along the wall.
"Take everyone with you, we have to get out of here before the police arrive." He knew that now was not the time to worry about other things. If he didn't hurry up, he might be surrounded by the Paris police and military.
There have been a lot of major cases in Paris recently. Since an international conference is about to be held, RAID and GIGN are now on standby. Although Province 93 is located in the suburbs of Paris, it is not a truly lawless place.
In less than fifteen minutes, the police and security forces arrived at the scene, but by this time the Albanians showed extraordinary efficiency and had already left and taken away all the bodies.
Only car wreckage, bloodstains on the ground, and countless bullet casings scattered on the ground were left at the scene, leaving the police looking at each other in confusion.
Garrett used a ballpoint pen to pick up a 5.45X39mm bullet casing from the ground, "I won't be in Iraq."
Amelia Ryder was wearing a bulletproof vest with POLICE printed on it. "It's so strange, there is no body."
"Don't take it too seriously. This is what the higher-ups most want to see." Garrett threw down the bullet casing. Judging from the situation at the scene, everyone knew that at least a dozen people died here, but the bodies had all been moved.
Gone.
This gives the Paris police a lot of room to operate. Without a body, who dares to say that someone died here, what if someone is filming a movie.
Even if the body appears in other places later, it has nothing to do with this place. It doesn't matter if it doesn't matter.
Amelia also understands this truth, "If all the gang fights could clean up the scene so cleanly, the politicians above might give the gangs an award."
Complaints are complaints, but work still needs to be done, including testimonials from the people around, photos of the scene, sampling of blood stains, and the luggage in the house that has not been completely cleaned.
After that, we need to call the surveillance cameras in the area to search for the passing vehicles. These people left in a hurry. It would be the limit if they could just pull all the bodies away. It should be difficult to cover up the traces afterwards.
------
"Dukhovich, Murad is dead." Sito Riera, who had been transferred to another place, made a call.
"What did you say?", the voice on the other side was as cold as a poisonous snake.
"It could be the Russian mafia. Those who attacked should be Russians." Sito Riera spoke quickly. He was still misled. Of course, it could also be to shirk responsibility.
"This is impossible." The voice from the other side made Sito feel like there was a snake spitting messages around his neck.
Sito quickly explained, "Murad came in too hasty this time and might have been noticed. Last month we ambushed their transport team. It is normal for the Russians to come back wanting revenge."
There was silence on the other side for nearly half a minute, which made him think that the mobile phone signal was cut off. "I don't care whether he lives or lives, but the goods have been sent out..."
"I understand, I can guarantee that they will be delivered to Paris on time, but many people in Albania will only obey Murad's orders." Sito Riera stood by the window and looked at the police cars on the street outside.
"That's good, you just need to ensure that the goods arrive in Paris, and I will take care of the rest." The other party hung up the phone without waiting for his answer.
Sito Riera listened to the busy signal on the phone, and lay limply on the chair. The phone slipped from his hand and fell to the floor.
While he kept cursing the Russians, Xu Chuan and his team had already disposed of the vehicles and equipment, changed vehicles and drove around Paris twice. After confirming that it was safe, they returned to the safe house in the fifth arrondissement.
"Hey, we lost a lot this time." Xu Chuan shouted angrily, pulled out a chair, sat on it, and rested his head on the back of the chair.
Nikita, who had changed out of his combat uniform, was wearing tight jeans and a camisole, with his golden proportions of curves clearly on display. He took out a dozen beers from the refrigerator and handed them to Michael.
Xu Chuan had already extended his hand, but when he saw that it was beer, he took it back. The more he thought about it, the more depressed he became. The originally planned infiltration operation turned into a frontal assault. In the end, in addition to killing Murad, the gangster, the other
All was in vain.
I originally wanted to ask him about Zakayev, but this time it was impossible.
I looked around at the few guys enjoying their beer and found that no one was planning to get something to drink for my boss, so I had to stand up and walk to the refrigerator with a slumped face.
I opened the door and looked at the piles of beers inside. I couldn't help but feel angry, "Fuck, who did this?"
Michael touched his girlfriend with his arm and gestured, "Did you only buy beer?" Nikita was responsible for the purchasing here before.
"I forgot that we have someone here who can't drink." Nikita drank the beer in his hand first and shrugged, "It's really strange that a mercenary can't drink."