Standalone Tokyo

Chapter 326 Hello, London

Sam Norton looked blankly at a white cloud floating past the small private plane. He stared at it deeply, and the more he looked at it, the more he thought it looked like his favorite little white horse on Norton's farm.

Sam missed it a little. Did it run five kilometers today? Did it have a good appetite today? Did it have enough food?
"Ugh……"

Sam sighed.

"Sir, do you need service?"

A beautiful young red-haired stewardess was standing next to the seat, slowly bending down to ask Sam, the former's movements were so good that Sam only needed to turn his head to see a deep trench in the snow.

Sam glanced over his shoulder.

"unnecessary."

Then he turned his head and looked out the window again.

It's just a big deal. Sam has seen a lot of them. Which cow on Norton Farm doesn't have it?

Sam, who has to get up at three or four in the morning to work as a milker, has touched so many cows that he doesn't think there is any difference between humans and cows.

After being rejected, the red-haired stewardess kept the smile on her face, straightened up, still put her hands on her belly and walked away, but she sighed secretly in her heart.

His plan to try fishing failed. He didn't expect that this rich young man, who looked rustic, would not fall for his killer move.

Sure enough, the rich second generation is not so easy to seduce.

After the plane landed, Sam, wearing a plaid shirt and a yellow vest and carrying a canvas backpack, walked out of the airport leisurely.

Safety supervision?

customs?

This is the UK, a capitalist country. How could someone who is eligible to take a private jet be stopped at the airport?
All the procedures for Sam's trip to the UK were completed while he was still on the plane.

Sam doesn't need to worry about where to live. No matter how poor the Norton family is, they will have a house in London.

Then there is a question, what should he do when he arrives in London, England?
Sam was a little confused. He didn't know.

A month ago, Sam was still on the family farm, leading a comfortable life herding horses and cattle during the day and occasionally driving a pickup truck with a gun to go out and kill people at night.

Then, suddenly one day, Sam received an order from the patriarch.

"Sam, starting tomorrow, you're a member of the poker team. Pack your things and go to New York tonight."

Sam had been in New York for a month, waiting for his assignment and getting ready to go to work.

What work?

Of course it's shooting and killing.

Sam's best thing is raising cattle, and his second best thing is shooting. He can use everything from revolvers to recoilless rifles.

Sam didn't understand why the patriarch wanted him to join the playing cards, but he felt that there would be no problem if he just obeyed the orders obediently.

Then today, Sam was notified to come to the UK as a reserve cadre and serve as the person in charge of British poker.

Sam was stunned for a moment, and he hadn't come to his senses until now, when he was sitting in the living room of the large villa that his family had given him and his stomach growled.

I just wanted to be a little brother, a killer, how come I suddenly became a leader?

And I don’t know what the leader should do because I haven’t learned it.

That’s it for now, let’s eat first.

Sam made a phone call and ordered a fried chicken meal for himself. While eating, he took out the phone that the poker organization had given him when he got on the plane and looked at it. There were two text messages with two numbers in it. These were the contact information that the poker organization had given to Sam's subordinates, and it was marked with "delete after reading".

Sam called them and after talking for a while, he hung up and began to measure the power in his hands and what he could do.

First of all, Sam has 10 million US dollars in his hand. This amount of money is not a lot, but it is not a small amount either.

Secondly, the Poker Organization assigned two teams of fully armed Sea Lion commandos to their subordinates... Sam was very curious why they were called Sea Lions instead of Seals. Was it to avoid suspicion?
After calculating the power in his hands, Sam thought about what he could do... After thinking for a long time, he couldn't come up with anything.

Speaking of which, why did the patriarch let himself join the poker organization?
Sam carefully recalled the family's movements. It seemed that the poker organization had captured a Jew, and then the patriarch was very happy. He gave the poker organization a lot of money and turned around to throw himself over.

So...Sam realized it.

……

Things have not been very peaceful in London, England recently, or rather, this place has never been very peaceful.

British policeman Mark was holding a paper coffee cup, standing on the street, watching the people holding up flags and shouting. He watched them pour gasoline into a Japanese car on the side of the road and took a sip of the hot coffee comfortably.

Although it may sound a little magical, it is a fact that at a certain time every year in London, England, people will take to the streets to smash, loot and march.

Mark, who has been a policeman for more than ten years, is no longer surprised by it and is even too lazy to stop it.

The white thugs who poured gasoline were also very rational. They were shouting and yelling, but no one directed their anger at the policeman who was standing alone on the street.

You burn yours, and I'll do my job here. We don't interfere with each other, and the life is harmonious and beautiful.

"Mark, what's going on over there?"

The police intercom on Mark's shoulder rang. He pressed the intercom button and answered with his head tilted.

"It's OK. Nothing bad has happened on Thorne Street... Oh, by the way, Wright, I saw David here, David Turby."

"Is it the second generation of the Tebi family?"

"Yes, it's him."

Mark shrugged.

"This rich second-generation Jew is out to relax again, carrying an Israeli flag."

"Keep an eye on him, Mark."

The policeman on the other side of the intercom said seriously.

"The Tebi family donated a lot of money and stuff to the police station this year. Don't let Tebi get beaten up."

Mark leaned over to take a look, then smiled and replied into the intercom.

"That Jew is surrounded by seven or eight bodyguards. Who can hit him?"

As soon as he finished speaking, Mark heard a crackling sound. He subconsciously thought of the firecrackers in Chinatown. What were those Jews doing?
Mark looked up and saw the rich second-generation man holding the Israeli flag being dragged towards a van on the side of the road. Four or five strong men were lying there, and the parading squids were screaming and fleeing in all directions.

The guy who fell to the ground should be the rich second generation’s bodyguard... What happened?

Mark had been standing guard on the street all his life, and this was the first time he had encountered something like this. He was stunned.

"I bought coffee..."

Mark came to his senses and shouted. He quickly loosened his hand that was holding the walkie-talkie and raised both hands high, because about ten meters ahead, two people were pointing a submachine gun at him.

“Hey…hey…brothers, I didn’t see anything, I didn’t see anything, believe me!”

(End of this chapter)