The daily life of American TV agents

Chapter 515 Rescue the President
"What's going on?! Can't get in touch with the president yet?!" The vice president asked angrily in the White House president's rescue command room. As for whether he was happy in his heart, outsiders don't know.

"No, all communication in that area has been cut off. We can only confirm that the president is still safe and sound through the images obtained from military satellites."

The vice president said angrily: "There are images from satellites? Then why don't you send someone to rescue the president immediately?!"

"Because the UK is a sovereign country, it is an act of aggression to send people to the UK without authorization, and we believe that this action will greatly damage the alliance between us."

The secretary next to him explained tremblingly.

"This means that the operation to rescue the president can only be counted on the Secret Service in the UK, right?" The vice president tapped his fingers on the table, and no one knew what he was thinking: "Or, have you tried? Ask the British government for help?"

"No," the secretary shook his head helplessly, and switched the picture on the screen: "The new British Prime Minister was killed in the first attack, and now there is no one in the whole of the UK who can take charge."

The vice president nodded silently.

In fact, the bureaucratic constitution of all countries has made plans in case of accidental death of the leader, stipulating how the temporary power should be replaced, but the problem is that the group of gentlemen in Downing Street do not want to take the blame.

"Well, it seems that we can only rely on ourselves. Is Mike the only one left in the entire Secret Service?"

"Uh..." The secretary's voice was a bit tangled, and other people in the command room also showed embarrassing expressions. The vice president felt that something was wrong, and asked quickly: "What's the matter?! Tell me!"

"You'd better watch it yourself." The secretary said, and the picture on the big screen changed to a group of Arabs wearing headscarves, making a bonfire in the streets of London, roasting the beef taken from the butcher shop next door, The vice president rubbed his eyes, almost thinking he was wrong.

"I remember asking, where are the rest of the Secret Service? What do you mean by showing me these horrible terrorists?"

"No, I'm not mistaken, Mr. Vice President." The secretary's face became more embarrassing, and all the officers in the command room lowered their heads in shame: "After our face analysis and comparison with big data, we are very sure that this Among the gang, 17 are agents of our Secret Service, and one is Ron Lee Cooper, an agent of the Inland Revenue Department who was specially named by the British Foreign Office before the president's departure."

"What?!" The vice president was shocked: "You mean that Ron and the agents of the Secret Service rebelled together?!"

"I'm afraid so."

Everyone lowered their heads in shame, but the vice president's eyes flashed joy, but he immediately covered it up. However, before he could continue to react, the satellite image suddenly changed.

The man in the red turban who was toasting to the terrorists suddenly threw his wine glass on another person's face, quickly pulled out a dagger, and slashed at his throat. The man fell to the ground with blood foaming from his throat. At the same time, similar It happened to other people too.

Like a sudden internal strife, a group of hooded men launched a sneak attack on another group of turbaned men. Before the other group could react, they were cleaned up, and everyone in the command room was stunned.

"I think they may not have rebelled, but they are fighting in another way, although this way of fighting is not very fair."

In the city of London, the first turban to launch a sneak attack, he was able to take off the hood, revealing Ron's face: "Pretty and beautiful, guys, this is already the sixth wave, if these idiots are always so easy to take the bait, We can clean up the whole city of terrorists in one night."

An old lady raised her hand hesitantly: "But isn't our mission to rescue the president? Why haven't we seen the president until now?"

"That's really a problem," Ron nodded, because of the consecutive victories, he was a little carried away: "How long have we been here?"

"Five hours, from dawn to dark."

Ron lowered his head and began to calculate. The terrorist attack started at three o'clock in the afternoon. They are located on the only way from the city of London to the airport. If there are planes taking off from the airport, they must be able to see it here. , but for five hours, no plane took off.

Moreover, the cars that passed by them were all terrorists who launched the attack. Not even a single American or British figure was found. That is to say, the president has not escaped so far.

"Guys, I need to tell you some very sad news. The President may still be in town. We need to find him now."

"But London is so big, where are we going to find the President?"

"Go to the embassy!" Ron thought for a moment, and suddenly had a flash of inspiration.

"To the embassy? Didn't you say it was a trap? Didn't Mike know that?"

"Of course he knows, but until now. He hasn't brought the president out of the city, which means he's in big trouble. In this case, he can only risk taking the president to the embassy for a gamble. Let's go there Even if we can't meet Mike, we can get some news about him, guys, pack up and go! But before that, we need to go to another place first."

As he spoke, a smirk appeared on the corner of Ron's mouth.

On the other side, on the road five streets away from the embassy, ​​a car was driving rampantly on the street.

"Mr. President, I have to tell you in advance that although this car is bulletproof, it cannot protect against politicians with poor driving skills." Mike complained helplessly. He didn't faint when he fell to the ground with the helicopter, but the president just drove for a short distance. He was already a little dizzy.

"I haven't driven a car for six years since I became the vice president. What do you want!" the black president said helplessly, "Where are we going now?"

"Go to the embassy."

"Embassy? Isn't that in their favor?"

"That's right, but we have no choice," Mike said with firm eyes. "I believe Ron is not dead. When he can't wait for us at the airport, he will definitely think of visiting the embassy. We Just here..."

Before Mike could finish his sentence, several figures with assault rifles suddenly turned around the corner of the street.

"Turn right!"

As soon as Mike yelled, the bullet shot a string of sparks on the bulletproof body. Fortunately, the president reacted in time, turned the steering wheel suddenly, and the body swung sideways, and immediately plunged into another road.

"What do we do now?" the president asked, chaotically controlling the car.

"You are in charge of driving, and I am in charge of shooting. Remember, no matter who stops you, don't stop!"

With that said, Mike opened the car door, grabbed the handle in one hand, and held the pistol in the other, and leaned out his whole body. It was impossible not to lean out, because there was a terrorist carrying a rocket launcher at them standing in front of them. .

"It's now! Turn right!" The car made a very ugly drift at the intersection, barely pointing the front of the car at the other road. The terrorists would put their fingers in the trigger, but they didn't want to hit Mike just because of the car turning just now. The muzzle of the gun was pointed in his direction, and he pulled the trigger first.

But 0.1 milliseconds later, the terrorist also pulled the trigger. When the bullet pierced the terrorist's head, the rocket had already flown over with a long tail flame.

When there was no time to spare, the car finally got into the alley before the rocket hit him, but the rocket that lost its target could only keep moving forward. In front of him was another group of terrorists who were chasing.

"Boom!" The rocket fired by the terrorists actually killed another group of terrorists.

"Great job! If you're not president, you might be a good agent!"

"Thank you. If I am not a politician, I will definitely consider your suggestion."

Mike and the President high-fived each other.

"Are we safe now?"

"Yes!" Mike nodded happily: "We succeeded! Turn right at the next intersection ahead, which is the embassy! We..."

Before he could say the words "saved", a large truck suddenly sprang out from the alley by the side of the road, bumped into their small car unexpectedly, knocked the small car over and over for a few times, and then knocked it upside down on the ground.

As soon as Mike came back to his senses, he opened his eyes and saw that the truck that had just caused the accident did not leave, but stopped arrogantly beside them. A pair of terrorists got out of the truck and surrounded the car.

Mike's eyes were tearing apart but he had nothing to do. At this moment, a sudden burst of beans-like gunshots broke Mike's despair.

"Suddenly..."

After the clear gunshot of the AK47, a big hand pulled the president out of the car, and then reached out to Mike: "You seem to need help, buddy?"

"I knew you must not be dead!" Pulled out of the car, Mike punched Ron in the chest excitedly.

"This is not a place to talk, come with me." Ron rubbed his chest and didn't talk nonsense with them. With a wave of his hand, the agents of the Secret Service surrounded him: "The tactical formation is unfolding, and we are heading west!"

"Wait! Ron, the airport is to the east." Mike grabbed Ron.

"Of course I know, and so do the terrorists, so whether it's the west side we just came to or near the embassy, ​​a conservative estimate is that there are at least 1000 terrorists operating in this area. We have to go west first to avoid the terrorists Only in the concentrated area can it be possible to bring the president back, understand? The ghost knows how the idiots of the British security department put all these people in."

After finishing speaking, Ron didn't forget to complain.

"Understood, what should I do?" Mike picked up a terrorist's AK rifle casually.

"Listen, I have a good idea, but the means may not be so aboveboard." Ron looked at the president a little dodged.

"As long as you can get the President safely out of London, anything goes."

Mike took the lead, and the president nodded: "I assure you in the name of the President of the United States, from now on, everything you do is for the national interest of the United States."

"OK, this is what you said, then let's get started, we just need to do this..."

In the unfinished building in the city of London, the terrorist leader paced back and forth anxiously. There were all kinds of broken tableware on the ground. It was here that the quarrel just happened: "What's going on? There's still half an hour to go." It's time, why haven't the president been captured yet? I plan to cut off his head in front of the whole world through a webcast."

"Our people have just locked the location of the president. He is being led by a bodyguard to the direction of the embassy, ​​but when our people are about to catch him, another group of unknown men wearing hoods People attacked."

When the subordinate was reporting, he still glanced angrily at the other person next to him.

"Listen, now we have no time to fight, send everyone out, no matter what, we must completely block them in the city!" The leader asked after reprimanding his subordinates: "Where are these people now?"

"Their whereabouts are very strange. They are going to the west of the city, but the embassy and the airport are not there. I don't know what they plan to do?"

The leader frowned, called up the map of downtown London on the computer, observed carefully for a long time, and finally said slowly: "I guess they may have seen through the trap we set, maybe they want to go west to seek help from the British military, No matter what, they must not be allowed to leave the city, if they cannot be captured alive, then kill them and send everyone out! Go!"

When he said this, the leader overlooked one point, that is, on the west side of the city of London, in addition to a few military camps outside the city, in the urban area, there was once the largest slum in Britain. It looks like it, but it still houses the vast majority of London's poor.

Although the management of guns in the UK is not as lax as in the US, ordinary people can still get a gun as long as they find a way. This has also contributed to the high crime rate in this area.

Imagine what a commotion it would cause when several pickup trucks with open cargo boxes full of banknotes and all kinds of jewelry and gold passed the block?
Especially for these pickup trucks, after Ron gave an order, he opened the cargo box door at the same time, let all these belongings fall on the ground like garbage, and then hid in the upper floors of the slums. The eyes behind the windows immediately turned green. Eyes like hungry wolves.

Before the convoy had completely passed by, they couldn't wait to rush down from the upstairs with various weapons, throwing themselves into the ocean of banknotes, jewelry, and gold to their heart's content.

But the good times didn't last long, and soon another team came after them.

"Bang! Get out of the way! Don't hinder our work!" The terrorist in the car fired a shot into the sky and shouted loudly.

But who knew that this shot stabbed the hornet's nest, and the people who were fighting for property looked up, and the eyes of hungry wolves made him shudder. However, this is not the most terrifying thing. The most terrifying thing is that everyone pointed their guns at him .

(End of this chapter)