America achieves both fame and fortune

Chapter 600 Robbery Clash

On the Mercedes bus, Bruce opened the aisle door and stepped out of the driver's cabin.

The sudden noise froze the heated atmosphere inside the car, and everyone, including Marina and Natalia, turned to look at Bruce.

"I have something to take care of." Martin got up and went over there.

Bruce glanced at the women and said in a low voice, "There's a tail following us, they've been coming all the way from the hotel, but they don't seem to be paparazzi or reporters."

Leonardo DiCaprio and Nicholson also came over.

The latter, who dreaded having nothing to do, became excited upon hearing Bruce's words and whispered, "There really aren't swallows in the car, are there?"

Leonardo frowned: "I had someone do background checks. Everyone who came this time has more than five years of experience as an actor or model, and they're not just nominal; they're all very active in their respective fields."

Martin thought for a moment and asked, "What are the specific details about the tail?"

Bruce said, "A silver-gray Citroën sedan, the license plate is..."

"Alright, let's test the waters. I'll handle it." Martin glanced outside and said in a low voice, "If there really is Swallow in the car, why would she come? It must be to attend the party and get close to us. So, I predict they'll definitely let the party go ahead as planned."

Leonardo and Nicholson both nodded.

"How about this..." Martin said in a low voice.

Leonardo agreed: "Okay, I'll listen to you. You're the jerk who comes up with the most bad ideas."

Nicholson wanted to go, but since the idea was Martin's, he didn't want to take it directly, so he said, "If your method doesn't work, then I'll go."

Martin nodded: "Okay."

Bruce returned to the cockpit and closed the passageway door.

Martin grabbed the handrail and turned to look at everyone.

This might take a while, and some people are getting bored and fiddling with their phones.

Natalia turned off her phone and asked, "What happened?"

Martin stated directly, "We might have to stay in the car for a while longer. We've been followed by a Citroën that's been following us since the hotel. I suspect they have ulterior motives."

"Could it be paparazzi?" Elena asked.

"I hope it's just entertainment reporters or paparazzi." Martin appeared very cautious: "I've had some bad experiences, which I'm sure you've all heard about. These experiences have instilled in me a habit of always thinking the worst."

Sasha Ruth laughed and shouted, "You're the Coke Goddess!"

The women all burst into laughter, shouting incoherently.

Martin clapped his hands, pressed them down, and waited for the car to quiet down before saying, "Let's observe the situation first and see if we can shake off this tail. If things don't look good, tonight's gathering will have to be canceled for now, and we'll reschedule for another day."

The train carriage was in an uproar, since many of the passengers had come from Russia and Ukraine.

Flying thousands of miles to deliver that thing, only to fail to deliver it—any woman would be resentful.

Martin shook his head.

Leonardo stepped forward and said, "Even if our gathering cannot take place, all the promises I made to you all still stand."

The carriage immediately fell silent.

Their ultimate goal in coming here wasn't to find love.

The reason is obvious to everyone.

Just as Leonardo was speaking, Marina, holding her phone in one hand and using her body as cover, quickly typed out a text message with professional training and sent it to her uncle.

She accepted the mission and boarded the bus, so of course she wanted to complete it.

Of all the people in the car, no one wanted the party to go as planned more than she did.

After sending the text message, Marina skillfully switched back to the game interface and continued playing the mini-game she had just played.

Martin's voice came through again: "Ladies, please be patient. Our super driver will try to shake off the tail behind us."

The three had discussed a few days earlier the possibility of being targeted by French paparazzi and devised several plans to shake them off.

The Mercedes bus drove toward a large parking lot with multiple exits.

…………

In the black van, the uncle received a message from Marina.

He immediately picked up the documents next to him and started looking at the schedule of the "Inception" crew.

Martin Davis's film crew will be leaving France tomorrow afternoon for Spain to begin a new promotional tour, and then they will be flying all over the world. It's unlikely that they will be able to hold a party like this anytime soon.

Given Martin's status and charisma in Hollywood, he might soon be drawn to other parties and forget about Russia.

The uncle acted decisively, ordering, "Emergency situation! A silver-gray Citroën is following the target bus. Please be on alert!"

"Target vehicle spotted, under surveillance!" the subordinate promptly replied. After turning a corner, someone in another car said, "Confirmed the bank's colored Citroën is following the target bus. The Citroën's license plate is..."

The uncle was disgusted by these accidents and asked, "Can you confirm the vehicle information?"

Technicians retrieved vehicle information based on the license plate: "The Citroën is a rental vehicle, and the renter is a British person."

Upon hearing that they were British, the uncle was somewhat disdainful. After thinking for a moment, he said, "Find a suitable place to stop them and prevent them from interfering with our objective."

"receive!"

"receive!"

Someone added, "Are we going to put the British guy's head up his ass?"

My uncle said, "Throw it in District 93 and let it fend for itself."

He prioritized ensuring the gathering could proceed, and then ordered: "The bus is on high alert. Everyone immediately withdraw from pursuit and do everything in their power to stop the Citroën. We must stop it!"

It was already getting dark when the bus turned into the underground parking lot, where vehicles that had been arranged in advance were waiting.

A car suddenly crashed, blocking the parking lot entrance.

Subsequently, several vehicles immediately blocked the one-way street at the entrance.

The bus entered the parking lot and parked next to three minivans.

As the front and rear doors opened, Martin and his two bastards, along with a group of Russian women, quickly got out of the car, boarded three minivans, chose a suitable exit, and left the parking lot.

The Mercedes bus simply parked inside the parking lot.

At the entrance, cars that couldn't start were slowly driven into the parking lot after a brief repair.

The silver-gray Citroën, sandwiched in traffic, finally entered the parking lot.

But the target had already disappeared from sight.

"Damn it!" Tom Hardy watched helplessly as the Mercedes bus disappeared from sight, feeling extremely frustrated. He had planned for several days, but in the end, he hadn't managed to get anything, and he was quite disappointed.

He didn't give up easily, saying, "Let's look around; they might not have left yet."

Rogers slowed down and carefully searched for the bus.

The Citroën drove around the parking lot for a while, and Tom Hardy caught a glimpse of the bus. The bus was parked like a ghost in the darkest part of the parking lot.

He pointed: "Over there."

Rogers turned around, intending to turn around.

A German Volkswagen drove up from the opposite direction, its headlights on because it was already dark.

The headlights were blinding, and Rogers instinctively slammed on the brakes. Just as he was about to curse someone for using their high beams, the Volkswagen blocked the road ahead with a screeching sound of its brakes.

The bus was right in front of them, and Tom Hardy, getting impatient, rolled down the window and yelled, "Damn it, get out of the way! Get the hell out of the way!"

There was no response from the other side, only the blinding light of the headlights.

Tom Hardy suddenly realized something was wrong.

Before he could react, two more cars came from behind, one blocking the rear of the Citroën and the other blocking the angle from which the Citroën could turn around.

Several men wearing black cotton hats got off the bus.

They only showed their mouths and noses, and were holding pistols, with the muzzles all pointed at the front seats of the Citroën.

One of them shouted in French, "Get off the bus! Get off now! Hand over all your money and valuables, or I'll shoot!"

"Damn Frenchmen, the security is so bad!" Tom Hardy cursed under his breath, thinking he was being robbed at gunpoint. Facing the dark muzzle of a gun, he didn't dare to say or do anything and quickly got out of the car.

Rogers followed suit.

Four men took on one man, holding a pistol to his head, twisting Tom Hardy's arms behind his back, binding them with cable ties, gagging him with duct tape, and putting a thick black cloth bag over his head.

Then someone came and searched him, taking Tom Hardy's wallet, watch, cell phone, necklace, and other items.

The people who searched Tom Hardy were dishonest; they even searched his crotch.

This guy, like a creepy uncle dealing with a kid, gave Tom Hardy a hard squeeze on one of his big lumps.

"Fuck!" Tom Hardy screamed in pain, but because his mouth was gagged, he could only make strange noises.

The creepy uncle chuckled, "See? He's enjoying himself!"

Tom Hardy cursed inwardly.

This person has a really bad sense of humor, and pinched it again.

Tom Hardy was in so much pain that he wanted to jump up and fight back, but the gun pointed at his head cooled his blood.

"Don't move!" The creepy uncle wasn't done playing around yet, and punched him in the head several times.

Tom Hardy was lifted up and thrown into the trunk of a car when he felt that his eyes, nose and mouth were no longer his own.

Rogers wasn't much better off; he was also thrown into the trunk like a rag doll.

The four cars left the parking lot separately.

Tom Hardy lay in the trunk, his hands and feet bound, fear creeping into his heart: "These bastards not only rob us of money and sex, but they want our lives too?"

Suddenly, Tom Hardy recalled many tales of chaos in Paris.

After an unknown amount of time, the car started to jolt, and Tom Hardy was so dizzy from the jolting that he seemed to hear something. Before he could make a judgment, he was dragged out and thrown to the ground.

Tom Hardy heard the car whirring into the distance and knew he had escaped death. He tried to get up, but his hands and feet were bound. His shouts were cut off by the tape and turned into whimpers.

He could only struggle violently.

"There's someone here." A voice suddenly came from overheard.

Then, Tom Hardy heard a series of footsteps.

Tom Hardy squinted as his black hood was ripped off; in the dim light, all he could see was darkness.

The outstretched hand was black, the face was black, and even the hair was black.

Dark and chapped, like a group of demons.

To Tom Hardy, these Black people living in the 93rd precinct were devils.

The devils frantically tore at Tom Hardy's clothes.

"His coat is nice, it's mine!"

"Don't try to take the belt from me!"

"These underwear fit me perfectly!"

"Okay, I don't want the clothes anymore. This white guy has such delicate skin..."

Dark, shadowy hands pulled Tom Hardy as he plummeted downwards.

It's like an army fleeing from disaster driving self-propelled artillery into a valley, only to be blocked. They must blast through the obstruction with each shot to carve out a path and find a way out for their lives!

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(End of this chapter)