Cohen of the Rebellion Vol 1 Prologue 2

The bright moon is up high, people are busy working on the dock. There are three yacht parked on the track. Boxes are being carried carefully loaded off.

Westley has found one of his target by the trucks. A fat guy who named himself the King, with a bald head and ma.s.sive belly. Word has it that he love women. Westley feels so happy for the women who will about to be sleeping with him in the future. It would not be a pleasant thing being overwhelmed by a body weighs over 100 kilos.

The King is talking with two mid-aged guy, who look like the supplier.

“They must be tired of life smuggling powders in our territory.” Rat whispered.

“500% benefits will drive anyone crazy.” Westley is a trained agent, and this craziness is nothing more than ordinary. He turns his head, “Tell them to go in position and wait for my orders.”

My subordinates take out their weapons and spread out crawling. Then they take up vantage grounds in teams of attack/cover/support formation. Westley feels very proud looking at all this.

These guys are handpicked and trained by Westley himself. They are equipped with the best weaponry and communications. It will cost average 200 bullets per person per day doing shooting training in the bas.e.m.e.nt. Government is not paying for this, but Westley consider it worthwhile spending. Rigorous training will lead to amazing outcome. Let alone a pack of gangsters, my team will triumph a team of FBI special force easily.

Rat handed over a rifle to Westley. Lips pressed, Westley checked his weapon carefully. Meanwhile, in his ears he heard the sound of other teams testing their communication system.

“Squad 1 test, over.”

“Squad 2 copy, over.”

When the five squads finished testing, Rat nodded, “Ready boss.”

Westley tightened the recorder on his throat, commands out.

“All units confirm entry direction.”

“Confirmed.”

“All units entering attack position, confirm.”

“Confirmed.”

“Covering team position, confirm.”

“Confirmed.”

“Supporting team position, confirm.”

“Confirmed.”

With all that confirmation by their squad leader, Westley knew they are ready and waiting for his signal.

Carrying his rifle, gunstock on his right shoulder firmly, face gently on the cheek pad, Westley slowly adjust the aperture, until the cross is right focused on the King’s fat brain. Numbers on the laser meter changed and stopped at 400 meters. This is the distance for a rifle to yield its maximum destructive power.

Everybody who’s watching this knew, what would be like to be shot by an a.s.sault rifle at such a distance. Looking at his twisting face, Westley knew the King must be thrilled. This much powder, if sold successfully, he could retire at least 10 years earlier.

“His skin looking good, how does he keep it?” Talking to himself, Westley turned the safe on.

Tool he is, he doesn’t mind being a unique tool with character.

He pulled the trigger. A pretty fire erupted from the other end, s soulful gunshot sound spread in the silent night. Body of the rifle shook lightly, a warm sh.e.l.l fell.

In the aperture, blood bursted out from the King’s neck. His body shook twice and fell uptop.

At the moment of the firing, all squad leader give the attack command. Support team’s started shooting their semi-auto rifles, and the covering team’s grenade and smoke bomb exploded into the crowd. Attacking team started a.s.saulting. Team with night viewer rushed into the docking station covered with smoke.

After a series of shooting, screaming of the drug dealers could be heard from everywhere. In this standard attack tactics, Their counterstrike seemed pretty powerless. Scattered shooting grew weaker. Dying is a matter of time.

Jumping out of the covering spot, Westley crawled towards the dock with Rat following behind.

What’s left of the drug dealers were countable, most of them were hiding in a warehouse.

Rushing to the door, Rat shouted, “Apple!”

A grenade flied into the warehouse which lead to a series of explosion. Right after the explosion, the team member waited outside travel through the dust sweeping into the warehouse. Anything that move were targets.

Shortly after, a guy wearing a black combat suit made a series shooting, killing the last bad luck guy like a bee’s hive. The sound of shooting peaced down. Low and deep groan is all what’s left.

“Report, all units, no targets at loose, no casualties.”

In the vessel hovering above the sky, what happened on the dock is playing on the monitor. The suited mid-aged man stared at the screen. When he saw that everything’s finished, he told his deputy, “Commence operation.”

“Roger that, sir.” the officer nodded, hesitated and asked, “In the targeted personnel, are there anything or anyone to be held alive or unharmed?”

The commander paused, then said, “No.”

The officer turned and gave the order, “Attention, all units, commencing operation.”

The order was transformed into shortwaves and spread out in the night like a ripple. It pa.s.sed through the cold night and moonlight, and was received by several special antennas.

5000 meter in height, 8 gunships turned their lights off and lowered their heads. They formed an attack formation and flied towards the dock. By the fierce sound of the propellers, pilots were observing the ground, and guns and rear weapons were on. Targets were locked.

On the ground, the whole armored detachment switched to power drive. Without any sound, 20 combat vehicles, covered by tanks, were driving towards the dock from three directions. All soldiers were checking their weaponry and ready to fire.

“Boss,” a sound was heard from Westley’s ear, “We discovered a hidden tunnel at warehouse 2.”

Not surprised, he replied with a lowered voice, “Clear it out, I'm on my way.”

When Westley came to the warehouse, the tunnel had been cleared. Unexpectedly, this tunnel did not lead to anywhere, but circled deep down for over 10 meters. There was a bas.e.m.e.nt in the end. It is about 100 square meters large. After a brief fight, the bas.e.m.e.nt was cleared. What’s left was a 40 years old man, and he was being held in front of the boss.

He has been struggling while being held, and one of the soldier came and punched him several times then held his hair again toward Westley.

He was a little surprised. Because this very men, is an international most-wanted which the FBI has been looking for. This guy is also the King’s boss, whose head is worth 100 million dollars. His name is Monster Geek.

“Where are my manners, how could you beat up Mr. 100 Million?” Westley stopped the soldier who tried to punch Monster Geek again. He turned and look at him, smiled, “How could you wind up in here, Mr. 100 Million?”

“100 million?” Monster Geek spit and raise his head, his face looked very proud, “If you let me go ,I’ll pay you a billion.”

“Do I look like a guy who needs money?” Westley lit up a cigarette, hid his true intentions behind the smoke, “I’m going to ask you one more time, what is your business down here?”

“What I’m doing can not be understood by you mindless people,” having said that, Monster Geek realized his current situation, awkwardly added, “I...I was doing scientific experiments.”

“You? Experiments?” Westley kicked his cig, “Feeling d.a.m.n cold here.”

“Of course it is true, where do you think I got my name?” Monster Geek snorted, “I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

“I am an honest man, so I’m going to give you a change,” Westley sw.a.n.g the half smoked cig in front of Monster Geek’s eyes, “In exactly 3 seconds, I’m going to stick this burning cigarette into your body.”

“I said I was doing experiments,” Monster Geek insisted, “I have 3 doctorates, I am studying the secret of life!”

Westley threw the cigarette, pulled out his gun, loaded the bullets and pointed it on Geek’s forehead.