Law America, the Devil's Agent

Chapter 95: Chaotic Scene and Complex Events

Several black SUVs roared forward, speeding along the streets of Philadelphia.

Daniel sat silently in the Antoon company's car, his head down. His gaze never left the flashing location marker on the tablet screen—Link's cell phone signal—which hadn't moved for almost ten minutes.

This security team leader, who had received legal assistance from Link and also shared the spoils with the Bloodhands, had long since forged a deep friendship with Link.

Driven by both self-interest and personal connections, Daniel personally led his team to the scene at breakneck speed.

Two fully loaded assault vehicles followed behind the armored command vehicle. Twelve veterans of the Security Shield silently checked their equipment in their seats, the sounds of bolts being pulled and magazines clicking echoing throughout the vehicle.

"How much longer?"

Daniel's question broke the silence.

"According to the navigation, we will enter the target area in three minutes."

The driver answered without turning his head, then hesitated for a moment and glanced at Daniel in the rearview mirror: "Captain, the target's movement coordinates have stopped for a long time."

We're not sure if he's still in the same place, and we're not sure if—”

Daniel did not speak.

His hand, which was resting on his knee, slowly clenched into a fist.

Another veteran sitting next to me lowered his voice and said, "Captain, according to the information we've received, the other side has deployed dozens of people to participate in this operation."

That lawyer has held out all by himself for so long, I'm afraid—"

"Shut up."

Daniel growled, interrupting him, "Have you figured out who did it?"

"not yet."

The communications soldier quickly typed a few words on the keyboard and read out the information on the screen one by one.

"Based on the vehicle information and on-site photos previously sent by Mr. Link, we conducted a cross-comparison."

The pursuing vehicles were all unlicensed and had no legal license plates.

The faces of the people who were shot down in the photo did not match any of the results in our database.

"To be able to mobilize dozens of people to conduct a manhunt of this scale in downtown Philadelphia, and at the same time, to clean up everyone's identities so thoroughly, is no ordinary person."

"Then they're in the same industry."

Daniel's voice turned cold.

"It's highly likely."

Furthermore, judging from their tactical coordination during the pursuit, although clumsy and immature, traces of military training were evident.

The communications officer paused, his voice hesitant: "So, if the other side has deployed a team of this caliber, that lawyer is probably already—"

"accelerate."

Daniel didn't let him finish speaking.

The driver slammed on the gas pedal, and the engine roared as it sped forward.

A moment later, the convoy turned the last street corner.

The headlights illuminated the gravel road surface at the north exit of the shunting yard:

Several cars were parked there, some wrecked on the roadside, and some still emitting black smoke.

The tire tracks on the ground were as deep as plowed furrows.

The air was filled with the pungent smell of burning rubber and the lingering scent of gunpowder.

Daniel pushed open the car door before it had even come to a complete stop, his tactical boots clicking on the gravel pavement, his right hand on his holster, and led his team out.

His gaze quickly swept across every corner of the scene:

Several cars wrecked beyond recognition, and several bodies piled up by the roadside, temporarily covered with tarpaulins.

There was also an Aston Martin parked on the edge of the shunting yard, its body riddled with bullet holes.

Then he saw Link.

Link leaned against the hood of his sports car, a cigarette dangling from his lips, his left hand raised as someone next to him bandaged the still-bleeding wound on his upper arm.

But he showed no panic or helplessness whatsoever from the attack, remaining calm and composed.

Upon seeing Daniel, he raised his right hand and waved casually as a greeting.

"Hey, it's finally here."

It was faster than expected, but unfortunately the battle was over.

Daniel strode up to him, looked him up and down, and then glanced around at the surroundings.

He opened his mouth, his voice carrying an incredulity that he had forced down.

"You did all of this by yourself?"

"Yes."

"Are you even human?"

"luck."

Link took the cigarette from his mouth and tilted his head toward the shunting yard.

"That old guy, I think his name is Bangqi."

This guy's interesting; he almost killed me.

He directed things very effectively; he's probably one of the more experienced people in your line of work.

"If I hadn't wandered around the alleys of the old town several times and worn down most of his men, and if Mankla hadn't arrived in time, I wouldn't be sitting on the hood of my car smoking right now, but lying on the roadside covered with a tarpaulin."

Daniel did not speak.

He turned and walked toward the Suboban that had crashed into the sleepers at the edge of the shunting yard.

Mankla's men had already lifted Bunch's body off the gravel road and laid it flat on a tarpaulin.

Daniel crouched down, reached out and lifted the collar of Bunge's tactical vest, finding a badge in the pocket of the blood-stained shirt.

The badge is a flamingo with outstretched wings, holding a bullet in its beak, with a line of initials engraved below it.

Then he stood up and said confidently, "It's in our line of work, Flamingo Security Company."

Bonge Moreno, I've heard of this guy.

He served in the 1st Cavalry Regiment of the Army and after retiring, he served in the Flamingos for more than ten years, and was Hughes's best car chase commander.

I heard his name at an industry conference last time.

He single-handedly directed five vehicles to intercept a drug-carrying truck on the Philadelphia airport expressway, with zero casualties.

"A private security company?"

Mankla walked over from the side, still holding the submachine gun in his hand, his brows furrowed: "No wonder these people are so well organized, they're a regular army."

"It's not exactly formal, but it's definitely not bad."

Daniel covered Bunch's body again, stood up, looked at the badge and said, "Flamingo hasn't been around for long, and its scale and reputation are far inferior to Anton, but Hughes is a real talent."

He was a former special forces instructor who, after retiring, gathered a group of people and started this company.

In just a few years, they have secured numerous government contracts and security deals in Philadelphia, indicating they have deep resources behind them.

There have long been rumors in the industry that he has a major financial backer, possibly someone in the political arena.

He helped him secure contracts and acted as a protector, while also using his team to handle matters that were inconvenient to resolve through official channels.

To put it bluntly—the flamingo is just that sugar daddy's grey glove.

He turned around and looked at Link: "How did you get involved with these people?"

Link didn't say anything.

He stubbed out his cigarette on the hood, picked up his suit jacket from the roof and put it on, then lit another cigarette and began a long period of contemplation.

He reorganized all the clues in his mind.

The fact that the church wanted to kill him was not an accident; it was a backlash he had anticipated during his investigation of the Sacred Heart Elementary School sexual assault case.

But these people who retaliated were not internal security personnel of the church, nor were they hired street thugs or gang members. Instead, they were members of a private military contractor with government contracts and the backing of political financiers.

This means that the church's network of connections is no longer limited to the parish and schools; it has reached into Philadelphia City Hall and even higher levels of government.

Things started to get complicated —

"Let's go."

With that thought in mind, Link didn't dwell on it any longer. He decided to investigate further once he got back.

He straightened his collar, then dialed Benny's number. He explained the current situation, and Benny responded...

A wave of shock and confusion swept over them.

Link then calmly said, "I have already had Mankla and the others take the bodies and the items from the vehicle and clean up the scene."

The Flamingos lost this many men tonight, and Hughes won't let it go easily, but he doesn't have the capacity to organize another operation of the same scale in the short term.

We need to take advantage of this window of opportunity to compile all the evidence.

He tilted his head towards Mankla: "Have your men continue to keep an eye on the Sacred Heart Church and the area around the primary school. Everyone stay on standby."

Then he turned to Daniel: "Send a few escorts to take me and Mr. Costello of the church back with me."

This case is far more complex than a simple church-related sexual assault case. We need to discuss this further.

The chaotic scene, and the gradually emerging truth, are all being quietly and methodically unfolded under Link's guidance.

>