Shadow Empire

Chapter 1254 Sudden Attack
On the way to Lawrence Farm, the gang leader gazed at the endless wheat fields, a rare, simple expression appearing on his face. He was somewhat lost in thought; he had never seen such a vast wheat field, like a sea. Both sides of the road were lined with wheat, and further away were other crops. The rural scent in the air made everything here seem like an oil painting.

He was allowed to visit the factory, but only one person was permitted to accompany him for protection. When the contact told him this, he even wavered about whether he should come.

You see, he knew that if he brought someone with millions of dollars on him, and these people didn't follow the rules and killed him and dumped him on the roadside, given the Lance family's influence in the area, even if his bones were shattered to pieces, the police might not be able to find him or solve the case.

But he quickly convinced himself that he wanted a safer, more reliable future; he wanted to embrace the future rather than be overwhelmed by it.

He agreed and then embarked on this journey to the "future".

The train route was related to some important information, so they simply traveled by train.

Lawrence Farms has seized control of all the land in the vicinity, including some small farms, which have all come under their control.

Those farmers and ranchers found that farming for themselves was far less profitable than working for the Lawrence family, so why should they farm for themselves?

Farming also carries risks, otherwise there wouldn't be related commercial insurance. However, working for the Lawrence family effectively mitigates all risks, and the local people consider it an honor to work on the Lawrence farm.

If any girl's son works at Lawrence's Farm and he wants to find a suitable marriage partner, many girls will actively contact him.

Stability, wealth, and security have almost become synonymous with Lawrence Farm here.

Occasionally, some farmers will be seen in the fields. They will observe the passing vehicles before going back to their work.

This rare, leisurely and carefree atmosphere was like a spring breeze blowing into the heart of the gang leader, greatly relieving his somewhat suppressed emotions.

“Although I don’t really want to ask, I still have to say it: how much longer until we get to the factory?” He couldn’t help but ask the same question again. It was the morning of his third day on the road, and he had been on the road the whole time, only stopping at motels at night.

The feeling of being unable to stretch out was like an invisible knife stabbing his nerves again and again. He wanted to run and jump, to stretch out his body properly. He never wanted to ride in this kind of small car again!

The contact person sitting in the car glanced at him through the rearview mirror. "About thirty minutes left."

The gang leader let out a heavy sigh. "This is good news." After he finished speaking, he turned to look at the man who had come with him, who was also looking at him.

The two did not speak, but communicated with their eyes, and separated very quickly, giving the impression that they were both expressing their emotions about reaching their destination.

But only they knew that this henchman of the gang leader was recording the location.

Some people are born with a strong sense of maps; they can remember exactly how they got there just by walking down a road once.

However, some people can't do it and simply can't. This is a kind of talent. They may not have shown anything that could obviously enhance their value, but it is indeed a talent, and it just so happens to be useful now.

After driving for another twenty minutes, a wooden archway resembling "Lawrence Farm" appeared before them, and everyone seemed to relax.

"Finally here!" the gang leader muttered to himself, already eager to get out of the car and stretch his legs.

The roadside became more beautiful, and the smooth road made the car more stable. After a few minutes, the car entered a farm.

In the distant farmland were several large warehouses, each with a chimney. Although the gang leader had never lived in the countryside or done farm work, he knew that these warehouses emitting smoke were not normal.

The ever-present smell of alcohol in the air further confirms this.

They built their winery on a farm!
In fact, very few people know the exact location of the winery. They know a general area, which may be within the Lawrence family's sphere of influence, but not many people know the exact location.

The gang leader swallowed hard. Even though the "fruits of victory" were within reach, he felt an unprecedented sense of panic and unease.

He took out a cigarette and looked at his contact, who shrugged indifferently, "As long as you don't set the farmland on fire."

He couldn't help but laugh as he spoke, "Unless you order another ten million worth of goods!"

These fields aren't worth four million. If he wants, he can take more, as long as he can afford it.

"I'll go talk to the manager here. Wait for me a moment, and I'll take you on a tour of our winery."

The gang leader walked to the side and looked at the chimney that was constantly emitting smoke in the distance.

His men also came to his side.

"Do you remember how to get there?"

His subordinate nodded. "I've got it all figured out."

The gang leader nodded noncommittally. "Do you think what I did was right or wrong?"

His subordinates didn't answer him, but remained silent, which made him chuckle. "How stupid of me to ask you that question!"

After a while, the contact person came over with a smile on his face. "You are the first person to visit the winery. The boss has high expectations for you. If you can open up the market and establish a foothold in your state, we can offer you a more favorable price and any assistance you need."

"The money isn't just for free; it can be lent to you, but it won't cost you any interest and will help you grow."

"Weapons, bullets, anything—you're in the spotlight, I have to say!"

He put his hands on his hips, as if lamenting that the gang leader's good luck wasn't his own, and said, "Alright, you should relax now. I'll take you to see those big treasures first, and then they'll prepare a sumptuous lunch for you."

"You can stay here overnight this afternoon, or I'll have someone send you back. Let's take it one step at a time."

He led the gang leader into the farm vehicle, an open-top farm vehicle that looked like a small tractor but was faster and had high wheels, making it less likely to get stuck in the mud. Everyone was grateful that it was higher than a normal vehicle, especially on rainy days.

With the wind blowing, the wheat fields swaying in the breeze, and the aroma of wine filling the air, everything seemed so romantic!

Soon the group arrived outside the distillery. On the way, the gang leader encountered many cowboys and couldn't help but ask, "You also have a large ranch?"

The contact shook his head and said, "I'm not too sure, after all, I'm not from the farm, but I do know that if you come across a large farm, it will definitely have a ranch!"

"Alright, let's not talk about that anymore. Let's take a look at where money is born!"

He and his contact entered the factory. It wasn't as busy as he had imagined. There were no assembly lines with countless workers, but there were indeed people working.

Watching the process repeat itself endlessly, he couldn't actually figure out what was going on.

"Where... is the wine?"

The contact showed us the wine being loaded onto the truck. This wine had been temporarily transferred from the warehouse, which had been relocated elsewhere.

Bigger and safer.

The gang leader was unaware of these things; he assumed that alcohol was produced quickly in this way.

Leaning against the oak barrel, he turned to his contact beside him and said, "It's as magical as a money printing factory printing banknotes!"

The contact smiled reservedly, but in reality, printing money was not a simple matter.

Every step of the production process is constantly being improved and evolved, which is why Golden Lion Wine is so popular in the market. Some of the wines were brewed a few years ago and are still in the cellar.

The wines being made here will also be stored for a long time before they can be sent to the market. They have to produce new wines every day and squeeze out the wines from their inventory every day.

This is a massive, systematic engineering management project, but the gang leader doesn't need to know any of this.

He said a few words to the people around him, and then they went into the factory. After a while, they came out with a gift box.

"Take a look," the contact said, handing the gift box to the gang leader and gesturing for him to open it.

After confirming it several times, the gang leader opened the exquisite box. Inside was a very delicate... he didn't know how to describe it. It was a cannon model from several centuries ago, but it looked even more exaggerated.

Several soldiers wearing hats resembling rooster combs and extravagant clothing appeared to be lighting a cannon, with a long, thin bottle of liquor in the center of the cannon.

"This is our latest gift wine, meant to be given as a present. Only 10,000 bottles will be produced each year."

"Don't think that 10,000 bottles is a lot. In reality, less than 2,000 bottles can actually be circulated in the market."

“You can see the number here…” He pointed to the gold label on the neck of the bottle, which had the number “2485” printed in gold foil, representing that it was the two thousand four hundred and eighty-fifth bottle.

The model was exquisitely crafted, and the gang leader immediately took a liking to it, becoming quite fond of it. "How much are you planning to sell this for?" he asked.

"Could I get a few bottles?"

The contact gave him an astonishing number: "One thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine yuan, with random serial numbers."

“For consecutive numbers, such as ‘1234’ or ‘2345’, the value is 2,999. If all the numbers are the same, the value is 3,999.”

"The first 100 and the last 10,000 are worth 4,999 each, and the first 10 are each priced at 9,999 each."

"Furthermore, we promise to buy back every single bottle at the original price, regardless of its serial number, at the same price we sold it!"

Hearing him say that, the gang leader couldn't help but gasp. No wonder these people could make so much money; this was practically robbery!
A bottle of wine can sell for 10,000 yuan?

Why?
But he also had a feeling that they really could do it!
His initial idea of ​​buying a few bottles faded somewhat. After learning the prices of the specially numbered bottles, he no longer cared much for the other types.

But he was a little reluctant to buy those special numbers.

Seeing that he didn't speak, the contact didn't press him further about how much he wanted to buy. Instead, he took him back to the farm. "Now, can we finalize this deal?"

The gang leader nodded, handed over a bank draft for one million dollars, and extended his hand, saying, "Pleasure doing business with you."

"Happy cooperation!"

At noon, the Lawrence family sent a young man to have dinner with the gang leader, which showed how much they valued him.

Of course, the young man also explained that the real owners of Lawrence Farm, the three elderly gentlemen, were too old and in poor health to come from their convalescent home, so he, the young man, had to take care of them.

Lunch was lavish, with freshly slaughtered beef, lamb, venison, chicken, duck, and goose filling the entire table, along with unlimited fine wine. The gang leader thoroughly enjoyed the meal.

In the afternoon, after repeatedly declining the farm's offer to stay, I embarked on my return journey early.

He knew he had struck gold this time.

The return journey seemed much easier than the outward journey; it took about the same amount of time, but was not as arduous.

When he returned to his territory a few days later, he seemed to relax completely; the journey had indeed been quite tiring.

Not long after he returned home, the broker arrived with his men.

"Have you prepared what the boss wants?" The broker asked with some disdain as he entered the club, glancing at the furnishings in the owner's office. In the broker's eyes, everything there revealed the owner's low social class.

If this matter hadn't involved the Potter family, he would never have given such maggots a second glance in his life, let alone come to this place and talk to such trash.

His eyes were filled with blatant contempt and disdain, which made the gang leader feel uneasy. However, he knew that this might be the only opportunity in his life for him to come into contact with the upper echelons of society.

He took a deep breath, picked up the map his subordinate had drawn, and prepared to hand it over.

"Put it on the table," the broker said, pointing to the corner of the table. The gang leader hesitated for a moment, then placed the map on the corner.

"Why is it a map?" the broker asked, picking it up. "I thought it was something you drew." The gang leader immediately explained, "My man is very good with directions and distances, but he lacks some talent in drawing, so we used a local map."

"There's a red line above, that's the route we're taking, and it shouldn't be more than a hundred meters off."

The broker unfolded the map and indeed saw a thick red line on it. A look of surprise flashed in his eyes, and his expression softened considerably.

"You did a good job, I have to praise you for this."

"The boss will be very happy when he sees this!"

He paused for a moment, then said, "If you can handle this well, you'll be given more work to do in the future. Someone has to do these things eventually, so why can't it be you, right?"

"Okay, I..."

The gang leader seemed to have thought of something. He immediately picked up the briefcase behind him, placed it on the table, and then showed it off.

"This is the best wine from Golden Lion Wine, costing several thousand yuan a bottle. I only got a bottle because I made a big deal with them this time."

"I don't know much about alcohol. At most, I can only turn it into alcohol, which is a bit of a waste."

“Here are some extra accessories…” he said, opening the safe and placing four gold bars on it.

It must be said that Lance put some thought into the production of this gift wine; the broker recognized its "quality" at just one glance.

This is a scene of Confederate soldiers shelling slaves during the War of Liberation. He could tell at a glance that this thing was not particularly good, but it would definitely catch the eye of some older people in the South!
Gold bars are one thing, this wine is another.

Just like some old men who like certain special desktop lighters, or those that depict slaves, they are filled with nostalgia for that golden age. Anything related to that era will be liked by them, even if the item is not expensive.

"Several thousand yuan a bottle?" he asked.

The gang leader nodded. "At least two thousand dollars, and there are some special ones that I'm not qualified for."

The broker stared at him for a while, a smile appearing on his face. He took out a card with only a phone number on it. "Call this number if you need anything in the future. He can help you with small troubles."

As he spoke, he looked at the suitcase and asked, "How am I supposed to put it away?"

With the help of the gang leader, he then left with the box. Although it wasn't worth much, it could be surprisingly effective if used properly!

The South has no shortage of people who hate slaves, especially the large landowners.

The map quickly came into Mr. Porter's hands, and he looked at it with a slight smile on his face. "I'm so grateful that you went out of your way to help me with this matter."

Although this broker is just a broker, being a broker does not mean that they have a low social status.

It's important to know that many presidents, speakers of the house, and senators in the United States form their own political influence groups immediately after leaving office, and are also part of the brokerage industry.

Sometimes, capable brokers can even influence or change the president's thinking, so it's wise not to underestimate them.

"You're welcome. Mr. Potter and I haven't seen each other for years. If I have the chance to go to Golden State, I might pay him a visit."

Zhong Bo understood the meaning behind his words, "No problem, we welcome your visit at any time. You can give me or my father a call in advance and we will arrange the time."

The broker didn't waste any time; he knew perfectly well that what Mr. Porter needed right now was to deal with this matter, not to chat with him.

He turned and walked to the door. "Then I won't disturb you any longer."

"I'll take you there..."

The broker picked up a hat from the coat rack, put it on, and gestured for him to stop. "No need, you have more important things to do..."

He quickly pushed open the door and left. Mr. Zhongbo looked at the map in his hand and smiled.

He also knew that Lance's brewery had signed a supply agreement with the Ministry of Defense, making it a defense supplier.

But if we act quickly and establish the facts before the Ministry of Defense can react, even if someone in the Ministry of Defense can back Lance, Lance will have to suffer the consequences, and the Socialist Party will have to suffer the consequences as well.

Without the violence stemming from these alcoholic beverages, some of the Socialist Party's activities may need to be adjusted.

The more difficult the times, the more frequent the party activities need to be. You have to let all the people know that although the Socialist Party lost the election, they still have the courage and determination to make a comeback, instead of giving up!
The more adversity one faces, the more one must struggle and fight. However, political struggle and fighting require more than just courage and determination; one also needs money.

You have to make sure that every voter who supports you doesn't see any signs of despair in you. Even if you used to give each person a fried chicken at the end of a rally, now you have to give them two.

We must take strong actions to show them that the party is not only fine, but will also crush their opponents in the next election!

Only when voters have confidence can they maintain their base.

Once the process of capitalizing and financializing elections begins, it is difficult to turn back. From the moment the federal government decided to distribute the votes to more poor people, it changed from a serious middle-class selection of leaders into a pure vote game.

Defeating Lance would be a golden opportunity to strike at the Socialists.

President Porter Sr. hoped that the Porter family could produce another president, so they needed to start accumulating strength from now on!

After sitting in his chair and thinking for a moment, he turned to look at his deputy in the corner. "How many men can we mobilize right now?"

His deputy recalled, "There were about two hundred people, who had just come out of the training camp and hadn't been assigned any specific jobs yet."

The National Security Agency (NSA) also has its own training camp, where all NSA agents undergo two months of intensive training, including basic combat skills such as shooting and hand-to-hand combat, as well as some reconnaissance and interrogation techniques.

Some who perform exceptionally well in training will be retained to further enhance their skills in what they excel at, which is how they become future leaders or supervisors.

The others then entered the process of waiting for work assignments.

"Mobilize all these people here; this will be their first job after they leave the training camp!"

"Also, tell them not to alert the Socialists, let them go their separate ways, and let them leave freely under the pretext of giving them leave to go home and visit their families. They will regroup here." He pointed to a city on the map, right next to Lawrence's farm.

Mr. Midport was in high spirits during the days he waited for these people to arrive, because he was about to deliver a heavy blow to the Socialist Party.

During his private conversation with President Porter, the president mentioned that he would bring this up at the party committee and congress to make it clear that the person who could once again deal a heavy blow to the Socialist Party was a member of the Porter family, and that it was him, the head of the security bureau.

"This will be your best chance to move from law enforcement to politics. Every Liberal should remember everything you have done for them. The voices against you will be smaller and the resistance will be less."

"So you need to do this job well."

"It will lay an important foundation for your future campaigns as governor, senator, or even president..."

Mr. Porter didn't actually set his sights that high; he felt that... running for governor and serving two terms as senator would be enough.

He can't be president, and in the federal government, becoming president isn't the only way to reach the pinnacle of politics.

He would place his hopes on his grandson, but what about his son?
All that good-for-nothing needs to do is stay alive and have a few more kids!
He hesitated when he thought of Porter Jr., who hadn't called him in a while and didn't know how he was doing in the army.

He wasn't worried about the bastard, he was just a little surprised by his quietness.

However, considering that problems are unlikely to occur in places like the military, he only thought about it and decided that the bastard should be taught a lesson.

The days passed quickly, and soon the two hundred agents who had just completed their training arrived at their designated locations.

They disguised themselves as tourists, passersby, or just ordinary people to come here and meet at a designated place.

It was an inconspicuous courtyard on the outskirts of the city, which Mr. Zhongbo had booked for a while.

In this underdeveloped agricultural city, the owner of the courtyard was already very satisfied that he could rent it out; he didn't care at all what these people wanted the courtyard for.

And so, one after another came in, and soon the courtyard was filled with trainees who had just finished their training at the camp.

They were classmates, and they got to know each other during their time at the training camp, and their relationship was pretty good.

Everyone wore relaxed smiles, after all, they were now reserve law enforcement officers, and from a privileged law enforcement agency specially approved by the president.

Anyone who has even a slight understanding of the role of this security agency knows very well what a bright future awaits them!
People tend to become kinder when they have a good life.

After the last person arrived, Mr. Zhongbo came out of a room in the yard.

Everyone was stunned when they saw him, and then they stood at attention.

Others may not know what Mr. Porter does, but they know that he is their top boss, without exception.

"I've gathered you all here today because I have a very important task for you!"

He looked at the young people, some of whom were veterans and others were elites from other law enforcement agencies whom he had poached from other departments by abusing his power.

He placed high hopes on these people, who would be the sharpest sword in his hand, cutting through all the thorns blocking his path!
"Our target this time is a brewery that belongs to this guy Lance White. Every year, it produces hundreds of millions of dollars worth of liquor that enters the market and makes huge profits."

"Because of the protection of the Socialist Party, it has been able to legally earn illegal profits all these years."

“But today, we will not allow this to continue, so I did not mobilize the police, the FBI, the prosecutors, or the legal department, because I know that under the Socialist Party’s rule, these departments are rife with corruption and incompetence!”

"Only you can truly help this country solve these problems. This is your mission and your life's goal!"

"This mission is very simple. We need to break into their illegal liquor production workshop in the shortest possible time, arrest the workers inside, and then quickly escort them back to Jinzhou."

"They will be a crucial battle in bringing down Lance White's criminal organization, and it will be your time to showcase the results of your intensive training. It will be your first gift upon entering the National Security Agency, and it will be an honor!"

"I have applied to His Excellency the President that if this case is handled well, some of you will have the opportunity to receive a medal!"

Upon hearing this, the young people puffed out their chests, just like proud little roosters!

Who wouldn't want to earn a medal to adorn their holiday uniform?
Looking at these young people and the determination in their eyes, Mr. Zhongbo nodded with great satisfaction. "However, I also need to remind you that you are facing a group of vicious criminals, a criminal gang that uses violence as its means. If you encounter a dangerous situation, I allow you to fire first!"

“I repeat myself, if you believe it is necessary to shoot, then you must shoot first. I do not want to drape any of you in the national flag, nor do I want to apologize to your families!”

He looked at these people and nodded slightly. "Then, let's begin!"

They quickly boarded the bus under the direction of some senior agents and then drove in an orderly fashion out of the city.

Mr. Zhongbo did not personally participate in the operation, nor did he even consider going to the "front lines" to command anything.

As a "nobleman," he knew very well that his safety was always the top priority, and he only needed to wait here for the outcome.

As for the front, with those senior agents in command, and with them prepared to catch the enemy off guard, they have no chance of losing!
The dilapidated bus traveled on the bumpy highway outside the city. Such buses were common; there were always people who wanted to go into the city but didn't have their own car or want to ride a horse.

At this time, buses traveling between villages became their main means of transportation, so it was not unusual for these buses to appear on the road.

As they got closer to the farm near the old winery, the young people in the car began to get a little nervous.

When they were still a few hundred meters away from the marked distillery, several cowboys on horseback blocked the road.

(End of this chapter)