Invasion of the United States

The older policewoman was already crying loudly, snot bubbling, tears streaming down, and quickly promised that she absolutely wouldn't move, absolutely wouldn't report.

The entire hostage situation took less than two minutes.

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At the same time, Director Matthew's trusted subordinates burst into Elvin's house like wolves and tigers.

The leading officer strode to the basement entrance, shouting like thunder, "Kongges, come out, you are under arrest!"

His voice echoed in the basement, but it seemed like he was facing a pool of dead water, completely silent, without the slightest ripple.

Just as the leading officer was about to remove a flashbang grenade and throw it into the basement, an eerie laugh suddenly came from the sound system in the house—it was the electronic voice of 'Gray Shark'.

"Gentlemen, I am pleased that you have so naively walked into my trap. But please stop right there, and do not act rashly.

I have placed explosives in this room, and cameras are coldly watching your every move.

I hope you can sit down, enjoy some beer and drinks, or turn on the TV and watch the game. But if you dare to run away, I will not hesitate to detonate the explosives."

This voice seemed to come from all directions. The few reckless police officers instantly felt as if they were struck by lightning because they indeed saw a bundle of explosives placed in the center of the living room.

Judging by its size, if the explosives were real, their power would be enough to turn the whole house into dust.

The few police officers inside the house would be blown to pieces in an instant, and even leaving some meat or bones would be a blessing from their ancestors.

Despite his shock, the leading officer remained undeterred. He did not doubt the authenticity of the explosives but rather scanned the room, shouting:

"Are you Kongges' accomplice? What good does it do to hold us? There are bigger figures behind Director Matthew, you should be running away, not staying here to die."

"Big figures?" The eerie laugh scoffed through the speaker: "What kind of big figures can a small town police chief associate with? Can he withstand the pressure brought by billions of US Dollars?"

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As Zhou Qingfeng quietly launched his operation, his personal attorney, the cunning and greedy Old Beck, also began his game.

He invited the district attorney of Miami-Dade County to dinner, choosing a high-end restaurant with elegant decor and a private atmosphere.

In the United States, a "county" in administrative division is larger than a "city," and the district attorney holds an important state-level position.

The district attorney has significant discretion in cases, especially those that touch societal nerves and draw widespread attention. Their personal involvement can often influence the direction of a case.

Because of their crucial position, district attorneys need to go through fierce elections to obtain their position. For example, a certain vice president with a fondness for laughing women also held this position once.

And elections require money.

Halfway through the dinner, Old Beck, with a smile, made his request, "Your Honor Dave, one of my clients would like to provide you with fifty thousand dollars in campaign funds."

"Fifty thousand dollars? That's no small amount." District Attorney Dave's knife and fork lightly grazed the steak, "So, what does he need me to do?" For a smoother reading experience, visit MV&LEMPYR.

Politicians in the United States are particularly cautious about accepting money; they won't accept large sums all at once.

Instead, they prefer to establish a long-term symbiotic relationship with supporters, avoiding being caught by opponents due to greed, which could ruin their political career.

"My client hopes you can personally intervene in a police corruption case and protect a brave senior FBI agent, ensuring he is not harmed in any way."

Old Beck said as he picked up a file folder from beside his feet and handed it over.

District Attorney Dave pulled out a few pages from the file, his eyes quickly scanning through, then letting out a meaningful "Oh... the matter in White Beach Town, I'm somewhat familiar with it."

Look, things are often that simple.

The bureaucrats at the top are not entirely ignorant of the situation at the grassroots level; they are neither deaf nor blind and have far more extensive and detailed information than the grassroots populace.

However, they only intervene when things become significantly controversial and public anger boils over.

This not only showcases their capability and authority but also turns crisis resolution into their political achievement.

"Beck, it seems your client is quite righteous. What is his name?"

"Victor."

"Is it the Chinese guy who won the big prize? I heard he ran into some trouble over at the FBI."

"The trouble has already been resolved."

"No one can accuse him anymore?"

"No, the 'Power Ball' jackpot collection procedure was expedited, and the money has already been transferred."

"Expedited?" District Attorney Dave was quite moved. He knew that following procedures rarely lights up in advance, "How did you manage that?"

Old Beck wasn't afraid to spill the beans, "It's simple, Kelly contacted the chief legal advisor of the lottery committee, Richard.

Although that advisor and Victor had previously had quite an unpleasant encounter, Kelly told him that he could either get nothing or receive a million-dollar annual salary from the 'Holy Light Foundation.'

He eventually decided to help."

The knife and fork in the district attorney's hand paused for a few seconds, then he laughed heartily, "You lawyers are as shameless as ever.

For money, you have neither stance nor principles.

Since that's the case, I am also happy to make friends with a young tycoon and help restore order in White Beach Town. Of course, provided you have enough evidence."

Old Beck nodded, his phone screen suddenly lit up with a new message coming through. He glanced at it sideways and smiled, "We have the evidence."