Invasion of America

Chapter 72 The Killing Continues
Several huge floodlights were set up on the lawn of the city hall building, illuminating the scene as bright as day.

Below the stage, a dense crowd filled the lawn, with supporters waving signs.

When thunderous cheers broke out at the press conference, Governor Parker's political show reached its peak, like a carefully choreographed drama reaching its climax.

The riots in Orlando provided the perfect stage for him to perform. He stood on a makeshift platform and waved his arms to greet his supporters.

Just as the Governor raised his hands, ready to end tonight's activities with a resounding speech, a low and rapid roar suddenly came from the sky.
-
The roar of the rotors of the three helicopters came from afar and quickly drowned out the cheers and applause at the scene. It was like an invisible giant hand descending from the sky, suppressing the entire atmosphere.

All the people present stopped what they were doing at the same time, turned their heads to look at the night sky, their faces filled with confusion and surprise.

The searchlight of one of the police helicopters pierced the darkness like a sword, and the beam of light was cast straight at the ground, approaching the city hall building at an astonishing speed along the street.

People initially wondered what was in the sky, but soon realized that what they needed to pay attention to was what was on the ground.

At the same time, the atmosphere in several television media studios that were broadcasting the Orlando riots live suddenly exploded.

The host stared wide-eyed at the giant screen, while the commentators leaned out of their seats, their expressions filled with uncontrollable excitement and shock.

In the live broadcast, the figure of the heavily armored Harley was looming in the flames and smoke, and was transmitted to the world through the camera.

The beam of light from the police helicopter was fixed on it, as if crowning the knight who had bravely ventured into the chaos.

One host slammed the table, his voice almost breaking: "The Orlando City Hall is right in front of us!
My colleague was live-streaming the Governor's press conference from the lawn in front of City Hall. Oh my god, that motorcycle wasn't heading toward the riot area—it was heading toward the Governor!"

"What is this guy going to do?" Another guest's eyes widened. "This isn't an ordinary street thug. His goal isn't just to riot!"

The studio was in an uproar, the hotline was once again flooded with calls from the audience, and the comment section of the live broadcast was flooded with messages and exclamations.

The ratings curves of several TV stations rose almost vertically. The audience was collectively stunned for a moment, and then burst into exclamations one after another.

"It's Florida, so much fun every day!"

"This is more exciting than the Super Bowl, zoom in!"

“This guy is so cool, I wonder who he is?”

"I bet Harley's stock price will go up tomorrow."

The atmosphere on the press conference lawn was completely out of control. Standing on the podium, Ellison Parker was the first to notice the approaching beam of light.

Looking along the beam of light, I saw a silver-shining heavy-duty Harley at the end of the street, like a howling wolf, rushing towards them at an astonishing speed, accompanied by billowing smoke and the roar of the engine.

The body of the vehicle gleamed brightly under the searchlight, the modified shield was covered with traces of battle, and the rider's figure was cold and aloof, like a god of war who had emerged from hell.

Supporters gathered outside the lawn were stunned, reporters raised their cameras and snapped photos frantically, and security personnel rushed to the edge of the lawn in a panic to try to stop them.

The governor's smile froze, his arms still hanging in the air. The security guards around him rushed over and quickly pulled him away.

"What is that guy doing?" An assistant standing at the edge of the platform exclaimed in a low voice, but the sound was quickly drowned out by the roar of the helicopter.

The heavily loaded motorcycle drew closer, the roar of its engine shaking the hearts of the crowd. Zhou Qingfeng, perched on the saddle, spotted the governor, dressed in a suit and tie, from a distance, under the bright lights.

The first obstacle lay ahead—the lawn in front of the city hall building was surrounded by a solid iron fence.

This fence is more than one person tall and has sharp barbs on the top. It is obviously designed to prevent outsiders from breaking in.

The main gate of the fence is located two or three hundred meters away. Any normal person who wants to enter must take a detour and pass through the entrance guarded by security.

But Zhou Qingfeng wouldn't stay quiet. He slammed the accelerator, and the engine roared. He set his sights on a black car parked outside the iron fence.

After the heavily-equipped Harley accelerated, the front wheel suddenly lifted up and the front of the car was raised high, like a warhorse standing up and launching a decisive charge.

With a loud "bang", the front wheel of the motorcycle easily hit the hood of the car, crushed the front windshield, and used the roof of the car as a pedal to soar into the air like an agile silver wolf.

Time seemed to stand still at this moment.

The heavily armored Harley drew an arc in the air, its silver body flashed by, and the roar of the engine and the sound of the wind intertwined into a violent melody.

It flew over a distance of seven or eight meters, crossed the seemingly insurmountable iron fence, and then landed heavily on the ground with a dull "bang".

The Harley's two wheels slammed into the lawn, and the huge impact force plowed two deep grooves in the carefully trimmed grass.

Dirt and grass debris flew everywhere, like green smoke blown up by the wind.

The crowd on the lawn finally recovered from their shock and realized that the scene before them was far beyond their imagination. The chaotic mood spread rapidly like wildfire.

Exclamations came one after another, some were sharp and piercing, some were low and suppressed, and the original cheering atmosphere was torn apart.

Only the reporters on the scene were like chickens with their blood pumped up, holding up their mobile phones and cameras and pressing the shutter buttons frantically, with the flash lights even brighter than when facing the governor.

Many supporters at the scene instinctively stepped back, stumbling and bumping into each other, fearing that they would be affected by this sudden storm.

A guard who was loyal to his duty rushed out from the edge of the crowd and shouted at the top of his voice: "Stop! Or I will shoot!"

However, the heavily armored Harley showed no sign of slowing down and continued to launch a crushing attack towards the platform.

The shotgun in Zhou Qingfeng's hand was faster than the guard's words. He grabbed the short handle of the gun with one hand, aimed at the front and side, and pulled the trigger.

With a loud "bang", the shotgun spewed out a blazing flame and shotgun shells poured out like a rainstorm.

A flower of blood suddenly appeared on the guard's chest, and the whole person fell backwards as if hit by an invisible force.

The screams in the crowd instantly rose several times the volume at the moment the gunshot rang out. Screams and curses mixed together, and fear spread like a plague.

This was a shooting, an assassination, a terrorist attack - Zhou Qingfeng did not pause, he flicked his wrist and the shotgun turned flexibly in his palm.

Driven by inertia, the lever-action bolt ejected the shell with a "click". The empty shell flew out, drew a short arc and landed on the grass, and then a new bullet was pushed into the chamber.

Another guard squeezed out from the running crowd, his face full of shock and anger, raised his gun and fired, trying to stop the attacking enemy.

Zhou Qingfeng's shotgun roared again. With a "bang", another ball of fire burst out.

The guard groaned, his legs went limp, and he fell to the ground, blood quickly staining the lawn beneath him red.

The straight-line distance from the iron fence to the press conference platform was only about thirty meters. Several gunshots rang out, and the tires of a heavily refitted Harley rolled onto the wide steps in front of the city hall building.

On the platform, Governor Parker had already evacuated quickly under the protection of security personnel.

Well-trained Secret Service agents surrounded him, half-pushing, half-pulling him toward the side door of the building. The governor's face was no longer calm and confident, replaced by an unconcealable panic.

As he retreated, he looked back at the approaching Harley, as if trying to strike a fearless pose.

But the special agent in charge of security simply held down his head, not giving him a chance to show off, and forcibly dragged him away.

The side door of the building had been opened, and the governor and his entourage almost crawled in, and the shadow behind the door quickly swallowed them up.

On the lawn, the searchlights in the sky were fixed on Zhou Qingfeng, and the roar of the police helicopter became more and more rapid, as if beating the drums of war for the chaos.

The media helicopter's camera transmitted every frame to the world, and the host's voice in the studio was completely out of control:

"He opened fire! Two guards fell, and he rushed up the steps. He drove his motorcycle to the city hall building and he was killing people!"

Commentators exclaimed one after another: "This is not an ordinary thug, this is an assassin, a hunter, and his target is our governor!"
-
Since the "Tree of Justice" launched a terrorist attack on the U.S. bureaucracy, the U.S. Secret Service has received special funds from Congress to strengthen security protection for senior officials at all levels.

As governor, Ellison Parker has a 24-hour special forces team around him who works with other security personnel to ensure the governor's personal safety.

When Zhou Qingfeng rode a heavily armored Harley into the press conference like a flash of silver lightning, the special forces team reacted very quickly.

Before the roar of the engine was completely close, the special forces captain standing on the edge of the platform and his team members formed a human wall, holding his arms on the left and right, and half dragged and half pulled him down from the platform.

At the edge of the lawn, a black bulletproof sedan was parked quietly. This was the mobile fortress prepared by the Secret Service for the governor.

As long as the governor is stuffed into this car, Zhou Qingfeng will be unable to do anything to him - a mere modified shotgun is nothing but a tickle against this layer of bulletproof armor.

Not to mention that there are a large number of security personnel gathering from all directions.

However, the heavily loaded motorcycle came too fast, the engine roared like thunder, and the grass was lifted up by the tires.

From the time Zhou Qingfeng drove his car over the iron fence to the time he rushed up the stairs, the distance of more than 30 meters took only one or two breaths.

This left no window for the special forces to react.

The special forces captain had to temporarily change the direction of the escort. He grabbed the governor's collar with one hand and led his team members to run towards the side door of the city hall building.

At the same time, Zhou Qingfeng had rushed up the wide steps in front of the building.

He abandoned the slow-firing shotgun, stuffed it back into the glove compartment on the side of the motorcycle, and pulled out a spare revolver from his ankle.

The advantage of a revolver is that as long as your fingers are fast enough, the rate of fire can be as fast as you want.

Several security personnel at the city hall building recovered from their initial shock, drew their guns, and rushed forward to engage in a shooting exchange with Zhou Qingfeng.

At this moment, it’s a competition of who is calmer and who can bring more skills into play on the training ground.

Zhou Qingfeng's mind was cold at this moment.

The enemy had already opened fire, and bullets whizzed past his ears, some flew into the sky, some grazed his shoulders, and some hit the marble of the steps.

He had already held the revolver in his hand, with his index finger resting lightly on the trigger, ready to fire. However, when deciding where to point the gun, he paused for half a second.
He wasn't hesitant, but rather assessing the battlefield with the precision of a hunter. As his gaze scanned the security guards' movements, positions, and threat levels, he made a judgment in a split second.

The three security guards at the front were obviously responding in a hurry. They pulled the trigger while frantically looking for cover, staggering and aiming their guns randomly.

Their shooting was more like a deterrent than a killing move. It was not aimed at Zhou Qingfeng at all, and the threat was almost negligible.

The two security guards at the back were completely different. They weren't on the front lines, but instead, they were able to gain a firm footing with the cover of the front row, appearing more calm and experienced.

One of them was hiding in the corner of the building at the end of the stairs, with only half of his body exposed. He held the gun steadily with both hands, and the muzzle of the gun was already locked on the target.

The other one was leaning against a thick marble pillar, half-crouching to adjust the angle, his eyes cold, and his threat level instantly soared several times.

Prioritize the latter two.

The muzzle of the revolver moved slightly and quickly in Zhou Qingfeng's hand. Time seemed to be stretched at this moment, and it seemed to be compressed to the extreme.

"boom!"

The security guard behind the stairs only had half of his head exposed, but the bullet accurately penetrated his forehead, and blood suddenly spurted out.

His body fell to the ground with a thud, the pistol slipped out of his hand, and his body fell backwards, tumbling down the stairs, leaving a shocking trail of blood.

The security guard leaning against the pillar had already aimed at Zhou Qingfeng, but when he saw his companion's head explode, he turned sideways towards the shelter and aimed again.

Zhou Qingfeng didn't give him another chance. The muzzle of the revolver deflected, and the second bullet hit his neck, and blood splattered out instantly.

The three security guards in front were completely thrown into disarray. They were still firing randomly, completely failing to take advantage of their numbers.

After Zhou Qingfeng retaliated, they cowered even more and hid behind cover, their hands trembling slightly as they pulled the trigger, and bullets flew everywhere.

The engine of the heavy-duty Harley did not stop. Even though gunshots rang out intensively on the steps, it still carried Zhou Qingfeng and continued to move in the flames and smoke.

The tires rolled over the marble steps and the blood that had not yet dried, leaving two scarlet wheel marks, like the hideous signature left by the messenger of hell.

The blood mixed with the dirt on the lawn was thrown to both sides by the tires, splashing on the edge of the steps, emitting a creepy dark red luster.

When the sixth gunshot rang out, the steps of the city hall building were empty - all five security guards fell down and huddled together, leaving only blood and scattered guns on the ground.

Zhou Qingfeng's gaze pierced through the smoke and caught the direction in which Ellison Parker was evacuating.

The side door of the building was closed, and the backs of the special forces escorting the governor as they fled in panic had long disappeared into the shadows.

He did not choose to chase through the side door. He quickly reloaded his revolver and shotgun, picked up two pistols and ammunition from the corpse, and also grabbed a bulletproof vest for himself.

Then, the heavily armored Harley let out a deafening roar, and the car body suddenly rushed forward, crashing straight into the main entrance of the city hall building.

The main entrance of the building consists of two huge glass doors, set in a heavy metal frame, and there are several wide steps in front of the door as a buffer.

The glass door shattered instantly under the impact, and countless fragments flew everywhere like a rainstorm.

The Harley's body shook slightly, but its huge inertia prevented it from stopping, and it rushed directly into the building with both the driver and the car.

The tires rolled over the broken glass on the ground, making a teeth-grinding "crunching" sound. The car body slid for a distance on the smooth marble floor before stopping steadily.

The killing will continue.
(End of this chapter)