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Chapter 130 How dare you? (First update!)

Upon seeing the girl he liked, Hvar blushed slightly, then looked straight ahead without glancing to the side, holding the red flag representing Turkey high in his hand, which fluttered in the wind coming from the strait.

Not far away, a girl named Gulshan brushed aside her loose golden hair, tucked it behind her ear, and then said something to her companion beside her.

The lip movements were so small that it was impossible to tell what the girl was saying just by looking at her mouth.

After another ten minutes or so, the marching contingent assembled, assigned tasks, and officially set off.

Tall male students walked on both sides, holding up the Turkish flag. Towards the center was the green flag with a white background, representing their shared faith.

In the center of the flag is a girl holding a small Turkish flag.

Unlike women in other Islamic countries who wear black headscarves, they draped the black headscarves over their shoulders.

As they walked forward, the students chanted slogans:

"Eliminate ethnic discrimination, eliminate regional discrimination. We are all Turks. Kurds also need normal jobs, and their hometowns need normal development."

"I support a coalition government among all political parties!"

"We need to use our hands to build a better life!"

"We need democracy and freedom..."

The shouts were unified and accompanied the students as they moved slowly forward.

After circling the neighborhood around the school, the students' march turned around and headed towards the Fatah Sultan Mohammed Bridge.

The Fatah Sultan Mohammed Bridge and the July 15 Martyrs Bridge connect the two ends of Istanbul, one in the south and one in the north.

Starting from the Fatah Sultan Mohammed Bridge in the north, you can travel around East Istanbul, then return to West Istanbul via the July 15 Martyrs Bridge, and then circle back to school.

The entire process takes a day.

The plan was perfect.

The students' march began, and the various parties in the shadows immediately received the news.

Therefore, people with their own ulterior motives began to take their own actions.

On the west bank of the Fatah Sultan Mohammed Bridge, less than 300 meters from the bridgehead, is an old house in the attic.

Tom used a crowbar to open the box in front of him, bent down, took out a sniper rifle from underneath, checked it briefly, and then tossed it to Jerry beside him.

"Check the scope. It was calibrated before shipping, but there might be problems during transport. Check it carefully and make sure it's a one-shot kill."

Jerry held the gun in both hands, his face full of speechlessness.

He patted the chipped paint off the gun barrel, then pointed to his own nose and asked:

"Brother, our mission is precision kills, and you want me to use this SVD that's been through who-knows-how-many times?"

"I even suspect that this gun is about the same age as my grandfather."

The complaints made Tom stop what he was doing and start thinking very seriously.

After a long pause, he nodded: "You are 24 years old this year, your father is 48 years old, and your grandfather is 69 years old."

"This year is 2010, while the first SVD sniper rifle appeared in 1963."

"So, this gun isn't as big as your grandfather's."

Jerry's serious analysis completely broke down his defenses. He resignedly picked up the gun, walked to a better-lit spot, and carefully examined the SVD in his hand.

A dozen minutes later, the watches on their left wrists rang almost simultaneously.

The ticking of the watch startled the two men. Tom grabbed the observation binoculars, leaned against the dormer window, and projected the binoculars toward the distant bridge.

Jerry, who was next to him, touched the SVD in his hand again, then put the barrel on the windowsill and leaned to the side to avoid being seen by people outside the window.

Just as I set up my gun, I heard Tom shouting in my ear:
"Attention, the advance troops have already appeared at the bridge."

"Our target is the third unit, behind the vanguard..."

"Did you see that? The guy in the suit in the center of the third camp, waving non-stop, that's the rising star of the Kurdistan Workers' Party, the guy named Dia."

"Besides that, you can snipe anyone who might hinder the plot's development."

After searching through the scope for a moment, Jerry found his target.

The image was a little blurry, so he adjusted it before finally finding the target:
"That young man, about 1.8 meters tall, wearing a black suit and a purple tie?"

"This guy is such a show-off."

"Can I shoot him dead right now?"

"No!" At another dormer window, Tom put down his binoculars and pointed to the bridge:
"Thomas's team is ready. As soon as those men get on the bridge, they will detonate the truck."

"All you have to do is wait."

"Wait for the right targets to appear, then kill them, so that the people will be convinced that the Turkish government has been planning this for a long time."

Beside him, Jerry smirked and uttered a word used to describe the scene: "Crazy!"

At the western end of the bridge, Hvar stepped across the construction joint and officially onto the bridge.

In his excitement, he couldn't help but wave the Turkish flag in his hand. The red flag with white patterns and a slender flagpole, under the tall Hvar's waving, looked like a giant red dragon soaring and dancing on the Fatah Sultan Mohammed Bridge.

Inspired by him, the remaining boys in the front row followed suit and waved their red flags vigorously.

The flag bearers at the front were performing, and the crowd behind them began to improvise as well.

Most people started shouting the slogans they had learned before setting off, while a small number began to spontaneously recite poems.

Amidst the stirring voices, the students slowly moved forward until they all finally stepped onto the bridge.

Behind the students were ordinary citizens who had come from the street to watch.

Among these people are ethnic Turks, Kurds, Arabs, and Turkmens.

Behind this chaotic group of people was a group that, at a glance, was clearly different from the two groups in front of them.

The way these people looked at the two groups in front of them was full of scrutiny and mockery.

At the heart of this group was a man who looked to be in his thirties, with a high nose, black hair, and blue eyes.

As he walked forward, he waved and greeted the people on both sides of the road.

If someone blocks his way, he will push them aside.

Behind them, there were even more onlookers, following leisurely, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

In the crowd, Thomas held a Turkish flag in his hand and waved it from time to time as he walked forward with the flow of people.

While waving the national flag, he also quickly surveyed his surroundings.

Besides this group of people, there were also many heavily armed Turkish police officers following the crowd at a leisurely pace. It seemed that as long as there was any disturbance, these police officers would rush up and suppress it.

As they walked, when the third group of people reached the bridge, Thomas immediately pulled down his right collar, where a microphone was hanging.

Amidst the deafening shouts, he also issued his commands:
"start to act."

Upon receiving the signal, the first team to take action consisted of six refrigerated trucks arranged by Tom.

He placed six refrigerated trucks on both sides of the bridge, three on each side. Upon receiving the signal, the refrigerated trucks, hidden in the shadows, slowly drove out of their hiding places and then slowly drove towards the crowd.

The west side had a larger flow of people, so the three refrigerated trucks moved very slowly. In addition, the crowds made the three refrigerated trucks naturally split into three sections.

几分钟后，第1辆冷藏卡车开上桥头，而第2辆冷藏卡车在第1辆冷藏卡车后方大约60米的位置，第3辆。在第1辆冷藏卡车后方大约100米的位置。

The vehicles moved forward with the flow of people, but suddenly all three vehicles came to a stop on the main road.

Many people passed by, but no one paid any attention to the commotion caused by the three cars.

With so many people, the car couldn't possibly fly over or chase them directly.

The drivers of the three refrigerated trucks went against the flow of people and quickly found Thomas hiding in the shadows.

The group exchanged glances, then casually dispersed, disappearing from the surging crowd in several directions.

On the east side of the bridge, three other refrigerated trucks slowly drove onto the bridge, but they were stopped by the police before they could fully cross the bridge.

At the center of the bridge, more than a dozen police cars lined up in a row, completely blocking the road. The police officers got out of the cars and set up roadblocks to block the bridge passage.

Behind them were the security bureau's vehicles.

The people in the car didn't get out; they simply rolled down the windows and quietly looked out at the scene on the bridge.

Behind the roadblock, Istanbul Police Chief Ali Kaya stood in the middle of the road, glanced back at the security vehicle, then turned back and pressed the button on his chest radio:
"Remember, our mission is to send these students back."

"At first, try to avoid physical conflict with them. If they really don't listen to advice, then take action."

"Try to avoid sending people from the National Security Bureau."

After giving the orders, Ali turned his gaze straight ahead. About two or three hundred meters in front of him, a crowd of people was slowly walking towards them.

At the forefront of the crowd were young people carrying Turkish flags.

Seeing these students, Ali couldn't help but sigh and moved the roadblock forward a little.

Türkiye has many political parties, totaling more than 80 parties of varying sizes.

The Kurdistan Workers' Party is considered a minor player among these parties.

The problem is, this group is the most troublesome and loves to cause trouble.

They also enjoy using violence.

If it weren't for the AKP being embroiled in the Deep State scandal last year, these students might have been packed up by security personnel and taken to unknown locations as soon as they left their homes.

Moreover, the orders we received today were that the police station should go first, and if that doesn't work, the security bureau should come.

Three hundred meters.

Two hundred meters.

One hundred meters.

As the crowd drew closer, Ali's palms became sweaty.

When the crowd was within fifty meters, Ali pressed his finger on the walkie-talkie: "Remember my orders."

At the command, the police officers and security personnel waiting on the bridge put away their smiles and all became serious.

Fifty meters is a very short distance; in just over ten seconds, the marching students and police officers bumped into each other and looked at each other through the barricades.

Ali waved his hand, signaling for both sides to be quiet.

The students on the other side were very cooperative and stopped waving their flags and shouting.

Once the scene quieted down, Ali grabbed a megaphone handed to him by a subordinate and shouted, "Now, everyone go back to your schools."

“I know your demands, but these things are not up to us ordinary people to decide.”

"These things aren't simply black and white; they can't be explained in just a few words!"

"Go back immediately."

As Ali's shouts ceased, Hvar waved his Turkish flag and loudly questioned him:

Are the Kurds in the eastern provinces citizens of Turkey?

"If so, why not support its development?"

"Also, how do you explain last year's Deep State case?"

His series of questions left Ali speechless. Seeing that the policeman didn't respond, Hvar turned around and shouted to his classmates behind him:
"Class, did you see that?"

"They want us to leave, but they won't give us an explanation; they're just trying to fool us."

"Today, they restrict the development of the Kurdish community; tomorrow, those lurking in the shadows will jump out and take control of Turkey."

The shouts resonated with the students, and the chants that had just quieted down began to ring out again.

This time, no matter how much Alibaba shouted, it couldn't drown out the noise again.

After observing for a few minutes with a cold expression, Ali waved his hand and shouted, "Arrest them! Arrest them all!"

From the attic west of the bridge, Tom saw this through binoculars and casually pressed the intercom on his chest:
"Thomas, the students and the police are fighting on the bridge. Should we take action?"

Thomas, having received the news from the crowd, pressed down on his right collar and gave the order directly:
"Detonate! Free fire!"

Upon receiving the order, the subordinate, who was mingling in the crowd, reached into his pocket and gently pressed the remote control inside.

The next second, six refrigerated trucks loaded with hundreds of kilograms of gasoline and bombs exploded at both ends of the bridge.

The gasoline evaporated rapidly under the impact of the bomb, splashing in all directions and quickly and evenly covering everyone around.

The sparks from the explosion ignited gasoline molecules in the air.

In an instant, the area around the six refrigerated trucks was completely engulfed in flames.

The fire not only ignited the people around them, but also set nearby cars ablaze.

More gasoline was added to the combustion, contributing to the explosion.

The explosion made the already chaotic center of the bridge even more chaotic.

Ali stood in the middle, calling out to both sides, trying to calm them down.

But just then, a bullet, from who-knows-where, pierced his brain.

The sudden turn of events caused the two sides facing each other in the middle of the bridge to look at each other, and they both sensed a hint of shock in each other's eyes.

The police were shocked by the students' audacity.

The students were shocked that these people dared to be so ruthless, even killing their own people.

Both sides simultaneously roared at each other, "How dare you!"

The next moment, both sides made what they believed to be the right choice.

At the forefront, tall students waved their flags, trying to carve a bloody path for those around them.

The police officers, who initially only intended to arrest people, unknowingly increased the force with which they swung their batons.

(End of this chapter)