Invasion of America

Chapter 22 Recording Restoration
Around nine o'clock at night.

After leaving the Congers' house, Zhou Qingfeng drove the shabby pickup truck like a reckless man with a lot on his mind, shaking all the way, and finally slowly drove into a car wash shop hidden in the corner of a suburban street.

On the way here, Gray Shark called and said he had found the phone call that Inspector Carl's partner received before he was shot.
"The good news is that the number was not disguised; the bad news is that the caller was Deputy Director Schulte of the FBI's Miami field office.

You said the FBI received a tip-off call. It's likely that the blackmailer was worried that you would take the money and run away, so he deliberately made things difficult for you.

Deputy Director Schulte's idea was simpler. He would just arrest you and kill Carl to frame you. He would then make you pay the money without any report.

By the way, I told Kelly about this, and she said she would find a way to help you, and that she would still stand by you and make sure you didn’t get caught.”

There were so many people who wanted to steal the $1.5 billion that Zhou Qingfeng was forced to flee for a short time.

The car wash in front of us was found by Gray Shark. It is located in a suburban community where immigrants gather.

The shop sign was worn away by time, and the dim light flickered in the morning mist.

Sewage was flowing outside the store, and distorted light and shadows were reflected in the stagnant water. Car exhaust and unknown chemicals mixed together and filled the air, which was very pungent and unpleasant.

Late at night, the streets in the community were still bustling.

Homeless people, drug addicts, drunkards, stumbled around, and their figures flashed by at the intersection from time to time.

'Gray Shark' contacted this place. The owner was an elderly Jamaican immigrant with a dark complexion, cold eyes and a sturdy physique.

Like a vigilant old cat, he flashed out from the dim corner of the store, his eyes quickly scanning the pickup truck, and finally fixed on the one thousand dollars in cash in Zhou Qingfeng's hand.

"Come back in an hour." The Jamaican boss stretched out his rough big hand to take the money, opened the rolling shutter of the car wash, and quickly closed it again after the car drove in.

Zhou Qingfeng nervously reminded: "Don't clean the inside of the car."

"We know the rules..."

The Jamaican boss was used to shady transactions. He sneered twice, turned and walked into the store. His footsteps splashed a small amount of dirty water on the ground, and then his figure disappeared.

Zhou Qingfeng paced outside the store, occasionally looking up at the sky. He used this time to find a barbecue restaurant that was open late at night.

There is no door to the store, just two windows on the left and right.

I knocked on the left side, and the window, about the size of a human head, opened. The cook's low voice came from inside: "What do you want?"

"Barbecue, or anything, and preferably some drinks, I'm thirsty." Zhou Qingfeng had to lower his head to order.

"Fifty dollars, payable in advance," the cook replied.

Go grab it—Zhou Qingfeng cursed inwardly when he heard the price. But he still paid obediently and asked, "Where is the toilet?"

"There are toilets everywhere." The cook took the money and snapped the iron window shut. The next second, he opened it again and shouted, "Don't shit outside my shop, or I'll shoot you."

Zhou Qingfeng was stunned for a long time.

Three minutes later, the iron window on the right opened and a plastic bag was thrown out. Inside were five barbecue burritos and a bottle of Dr. Pepper soda.

The barbecue was generous and smelled delicious, but that bottle of soda—wasn't that Fatty Ding's special offer for begging?

Zhou Qingfeng was also hungry, so he didn't care about anything. He found a dark corner to fill his stomach, and at the same time "dig out birds" and "water" the earth.

An hour later, Zhou Qingfeng returned to the car wash after a brief rest, and the pickup truck had changed its appearance.

Its original paint disappeared, and not only the pattern and color were changed, but the license plate was also replaced.

But its appearance is still tattered and it is deliberately made to look inconspicuous. It is an ordinary vehicle that can be seen everywhere.

As long as they are not stopped for inspection, it is enough to fool any police officer.

Before Zhou Qingfeng was about to get back on the road, a black clinic work vehicle with the words "Home Medical Service" painted on it slowly drove into the car wash.

The wheels rolled over the puddles, sending up a shower of water. An underground doctor and his wife, who was acting as a nurse, got out of the car and walked straight towards Zhou Qingfeng.

This was also contacted with the help of 'Gray Shark'. We have to find a way to save Carl's life to save Zhou Qingfeng from trouble.

The underground doctor was thin and looked like he could be blown down by a gust of wind. He wore a pair of black-framed glasses, and his eyes behind the lenses revealed professional indifference.

His wife stood aside, her eyes wandering, looking around from time to time, her hands in her pockets, alert and sensitive.

Zhou Qingfeng bet that the other party must have a gun in his pocket.

After receiving the $4,000 cash advance, the underground doctor opened the back door of the pickup truck. However, he only glanced at the unconscious Inspector Carl lying in the back seat and shook his head indifferently.

This action made Zhou Qingfeng's heart sink suddenly, and he asked anxiously: "Why can't you save him?"

"No, he can be saved. He was only shot in the face. It looks a bit ugly, but no vital parts were hurt. His breathing is weak but steady.

I have a full set of equipment in my car that can perform thorough debridement, suturing, and even blood transfusions, so your friend can survive in a short period of time, or even wake up immediately."

The underground doctor said slowly, "But for a gunshot wound of this severity, four thousand dollars is not enough. It will cost at least forty thousand."

Zhou Qingfeng breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't have that much cash on him, so he took out his cell phone and called "Gray Shark".

"The doctor you called has arrived. He wants $40,000. I don't have enough cash. Please transfer the money to him."

On the other end of the phone, Gray Shark's voice was filled with anger and confusion, "Tell me first, how do you know so much about me?
I rarely leave my house once a year, and my neighbors don’t even know me. You can’t possibly know so much, right?

"Pay me, and I'll double the amount for you later." Zhou Qingfeng ignored Gray Shark's question and gave the order directly.

"Fuck you, Victor! Don't let me know what you're doing behind my back." Gray Shark cursed angrily, but he still compromised.

A few minutes later, the underground doctor's electronic account received virtual currency worth $40,000. A smile finally appeared on his icy face.

He patted Zhou Qingfeng on the shoulder and said, "You have a good relationship with 'Gray Shark'." These words were not compliments, but rather contained a hint of envy and curiosity.

"Yes, he and I are good friends." Zhou Qingfeng replied with a wry smile.
-
Leo, the 'corpse collector', is a name that is well-known in the medical black market.

He was once the attending physician in the gunshot wound department of a large hospital. The scalpel in his hands was as flexible as a paintbrush, and he saved many patients from the hands of death.

But the trajectory of fate was completely changed by a trip to a casino.

After incurring huge gambling debts, he stepped into the abyss and had to bid farewell to regular hospitals, struggling to survive in the medical black market.

Florida, this seemingly prosperous land, is jokingly called "a place of outstanding people and beautiful scenery".

A large number of immigrants poured in, bringing abundant cheap labor and making the culture here rich and colorful.

However, there are always shadows under the sun. Various gangs have taken root and grown here, and gray and black industries have also quietly grown in the dark, and medical needs are also indispensable.

Since entering the underground medical profession, Leo was surprised to find that his income was far higher than when he was working in the hospital.

In order to better carry out his work, he specially modified a light truck and carefully arranged the compartment to turn it into a fully equipped mobile operating room.

Miami's gray market provides ample medical demand, and Leo performs several times more surgeries a year than he did in the hospital. Each surgery nets him thousands or even tens of thousands of dollars in compensation, enough to support his lavish lifestyle of luxury cars and mansions.

However, high returns often come with high risks, and Leo knows that if he's not careful, this job could be ruined.

Therefore, he generally wouldn't go out for medical consultations unless someone he knew recommended him. As for the nickname 'Corpse Collector', that was because Leo actually collected corpses.

However, fate always likes to play tricks on people.

Leo had taken over wounded soldiers from various gangs, and he was used to the bloody scenes and fierce looks.

But he never imagined that one day, a senior detective from the FBI would appear in front of him and become his 'customer'.

Carl Vinson, a senior staff member of the FBI Miami branch, is a well-known figure in the bureau. He has solved many major cases and made many enemies.

Being able to force such a powerful figure to seek treatment from an underground doctor is definitely not a problem that the mafia can create. The events behind this must be very serious.

The moment he saw Carl, Leo's heart skipped a beat, and a sense of foreboding washed over him. However, years of practicing medicine in the black market had taught him to remain calm in any situation.

"Bring the stretcher over here!" Leo shouted to his wife. He and Zhou Qingfeng worked together to carefully move the unconscious Carl to the work truck.

The mobile stretcher unfolded into a simple operating table, and the next thing to do was to clean Carl's facial wounds, do blood tests, blood transfusions, sutures, etc.

After receiving a blood transfusion, Carl woke up from a trance.

He glanced at the medical staff wearing masks and the shadowless lamp emitting dazzling light. Before he had time to think about anything, he fell into a deep sleep under the effect of anesthetic.
-
As for Zhou Qingfeng, while he was waiting outside the car, he received another call from Gray Shark, "Boy, I have some new good news for you.

After my diligent tracking, the blackmail call with a changed voice has been restored. Would you like to listen to it? "

Gray Shark held his phone close to the speaker and played the recording. A gruff voice came from the line, repeating the blackmail.

"I want $100 million, or I'll send the video of you killing Toto and Raul to the FBI."

When Zhou Qingfeng heard this voice, his blood ran cold - Congers, it was William Congers' voice.
-
Early the next morning.

At dawn, the morning light is just beginning to appear.

While the sun shone on 114 Beach Road, it failed to dispel the unsettling chill of solemnity that permeated the area surrounding the Congers' home.

A striking cordon separated the scene from the outside world. The flashing police lights and the dome lights of the ambulance intersected, creating a tense and oppressive atmosphere.

The policemen looked solemn and walked hurriedly.

Some were maintaining order, others investigating the scene. Their slow footsteps and low voices added a touch of solemnity to the atmosphere of the case.

Director Matthew rushed to the scene, and as soon as he got out of the car, his brows were tightly knotted into a knot.

The emergency medical staff carried out three bodies. He stepped forward and motioned for them to stop, then lifted the shrouds and took a few glances at the faces of the deceased.

A police officer stepped forward and whispered, "The gunmen are illegal immigrants from Cuba, specializing in getting paid to do dirty work. No one knows them, so they won't implicate us."

If Congers had been there, he would have recognized the officer as his long-time partner. His report filled Chief Matthew with uncontrollable rage.

Because the two gunmen were arranged by the director with the purpose of searching and hunting down Congers and erasing possible evidence.

There are limited police officers in the town, and hiring two gunmen to do some dirty work can also improve efficiency.

But the Director did not expect that the hired gunman was so famous but such a waste. He failed to catch the person, failed to accomplish the task, and even dragged the FBI into trouble.

This anger was mixed with great anxiety, causing the director to utter a low groan, as if he was an active volcano about to erupt, which could burst out with hot magma at any time.

A month ago, the "bar lottery" case put Baitan Town in the spotlight.

This once unknown seaside town suddenly became the focus of attention across the United States and attracted countless eyes.

Now, in just one day, five people have died, including three FBI agents, which will undoubtedly cause a storm in this quiet town.

The FBI will never give up and will investigate thoroughly.

There are indeed some things in Baitan Town that cannot withstand investigation. Once they are illuminated by the "spotlight", the darkness beneath the brilliance will surely be revealed.

Director Matthew will also be ruthlessly pushed under public opinion, like a trapped beast in a circle of fire. Although he can still make a move, he will find it difficult to escape.

Outside the cordon, reporters were like hungry vultures searching for carrion, microphones in hand, interviewing neighbors living near the crime scene, trying to dig out more news material.

When they saw Chief Matthew appear, they swarmed over him, chasing him and shouting, "Mr. Chief, can you give us your opinion on this case?"

Director Matthew wrapped his windbreaker tightly around himself and didn't even look at the reporters, as if his cold refusal could temporarily keep the trouble away.

The police officer chased after the chief and continued to report, "Carl and his partner from the FBI were the first to arrive at the scene. They were also investigating Congers, but they exchanged fire with the two gunmen.

One gunman was found dead in the front yard, and the other was found dead next to the sofa in the living room. Shortly after Karl and his partner entered the house, another exchange of gunfire occurred.

His partner died outside the restaurant door, shot in the back.

Several residents filmed the scene, in which the boy named Victor helped Inspector Carl out, and then drove away in the gunman's pickup truck.

The pickup truck was a black car with fake license plates, and we are investigating it, but its whereabouts are currently unknown."

This statement made Director Matthew even more uneasy, and various terrible consequences kept emerging in his mind.

His first reaction was to characterize the gunfight, "Erwin, you're wrong. This is a hostage situation. It must be this guy named Victor who's holding Inspector Carl hostage."

This was most likely a premeditated ambush targeting FBI agents, and it was definitely a carefully planned conspiracy.”

Officer Erwin understood and nodded quickly, saying, "Okay, I'll use this term with the reporters later."

Chief Matthew walked into the living room and scanned the bullet-riddled crime scene. He whispered, "Is the surveillance camera still on at the Congers' house?"

Officer Erwin shrugged helplessly and pointed to the ceiling, “The ones the Congers use are webcams.

There is one at each of the front and back doors, and three more inside the house. The videos are all uploaded to the online cloud drive.

We have obtained the cloud disk video through technical means. The video shows that two FBI agents were fighting among themselves.

"Internal strife?" Chief Matthew's heartbeat quickened. He pressed on, "Now that we've found the video, at least we can clear ourselves of any responsibility."

Officer Erwin shook his head and said with difficulty, "The video on the cloud disk has been deleted. It's very likely that the FBI did it."

"Why is the FBI getting involved in this?" Director Matthew's face turned ugly and more ruthless, like a beast that was forced into a desperate situation and could lose control at any time.

He lowered his voice and said viciously, "We still have to find Congers, and find him by any means necessary. And that kid named Victor, we must not let him go."

Police Officer Irwin had a blank expression on his face and nodded slowly, but a hint of worry flashed in his eyes - Congers had been a sheriff for more than ten years and had strong anti-detection capabilities.

As for Victor, the two gunmen didn't catch him, and the two FBI agents didn't arrest him. But he's Asian, so with enough police force, it should be easier to deal with him.

(End of this chapter)