American variety show: Sniper Elite

Chapter 122 Evacuation
Beta held her crutch in her hand and strode quickly toward the accessible elevator she had taken to get there.

He pressed the button, and as the elevator began to ascend, his eyes were fixed on the constantly changing floor numbers. At the same time, he deliberately adjusted his breathing to get back into character.

With each tick of the numbers 84, 85, and 86, his hunched back bent even lower.

The elevator emitted a "ding" sound, and a mechanical female voice announced, "The 87th floor has been reached."

The person who stepped into the elevator was no longer the killer who calmly fired a shot by the window, but a wounded old tycoon with a cane, walking with difficulty.

Beta pressed the button for the 88th floor, and the elevator ascended smoothly, taking him to the art exhibition on the 88th floor. As the elevator doors slowly opened, he stepped out of the accessible elevator with a calm expression, leaning on his elbow crutches.

Not far from the elevator, he caught a glimpse of Ruan Wenzheng and Wu Fusheng talking in hushed tones. The two had their backs to him and were completely unaware of his passing. They were speaking Chinese, and Beta couldn't understand a word they were saying, except for one name—Li Wen.

Beta walked past them without making a sound, slowly entered the art gallery, and then casually turned back and headed towards another elevator that had just opened and was seeing people getting off.

Several guests who were about to take the elevator saw him leaning on a cane and walking slowly, and kindly gave up their seats near the elevator doors. Beta nodded slightly, greeting the gentlemen and ladies dressed in haute couture and wearing expensive jewelry, his eyes revealing just the right amount of gratitude and humility.

The elevator descended smoothly to the first floor, and the metal doors slid open.

Beta, leaning on his elbows, was the first to step out of the elevator. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that the security guard who had guided him to the accessible elevator was frowning, staring in confusion at the floor indicator light next to the elevator.

Beta showed no sign of distress, slowly and steadily making his way through the spacious lobby of the Liberty Building with the bustling crowd. His cane made a regular, soft thud on the marble floor, blending perfectly with the surrounding footsteps.

As the revolving door carried him out of the building, a wave of heat hit him in the face.

Beta spotted Monica standing in the shadows immediately. She was pacing anxiously, constantly checking her phone screen. Beta knew who she was waiting for, but he simply walked past her without a sound, not even hesitating.

A taxi with its "For hire" light on pulled up to the side of the road. Beta struggled to open the car door, put his crutch inside first, and then slowly moved into the back seat.

As the taxi drove away from the Liberty Building, Monica was still looking around in the rearview mirror, completely unaware that the person she was waiting for would never appear.
-
Katalia, still wearing her coat, gripped her BMW keys so tightly they were burning. She stood in front of the television, her eyes glued to the news footage flashing across the screen.

Breaking news of the presidential candidate's assassination has dominated all channels, with the glaring words "BREAKING NEWS" flashing on every TV station's logo.

The live stream kept switching to the scene of the assassination, and some channels had started looping blurry footage of the assassination.

The host's hurried voice echoed in the room: "The police are currently conducting a full-scale manhunt."

But Katalia didn't care whether the unfortunate presidential candidate was alive or dead; she only had one thought in her mind: Why hasn't that madman Beta come back yet?

With each change of news footage, her heart skipped a beat. She was terrified that the next headline would pop up: "Gunner Captured" or "Suspect Killed."

That damn Beta still hasn't come back, and she never expected that the job this madman took on would be so insane.

Katalia couldn't sit still any longer; she was going to find that bastard who hadn't returned yet.

She slammed the TV off and rushed to the entryway. Just as her fingers touched the doorknob, the lock suddenly clicked.

The door opened.

Beta stood outside the door, looking at Katalia as she prepared to leave: "Going out?"

Katalia stared at him, her chest heaving.

Beta stepped aside to let her through the doorway. "Go ahead and get busy. By the way, would you like dinner?" These words were like igniting a powder keg. Kataria slammed the door shut, the door slamming against the frame with a loud bang.

“I’ll eat your mother’s dinner!” she practically yelled.

Before Beta could recover from the sudden outburst, Katalia pounced on him. Her cool, soft lips pressed tightly against Beta's, and the embrace from Katalia made his ribs ache.

The kiss felt like both punishment and confirmation, a mixture of anger, worry, and indescribable emotions that made the air between them scalding hot.

1 seconds, 2 seconds, 3 seconds.

A long, three-second kiss.

Their lips were pressed tightly together, their hot breaths mingling and swirling in the air. Their body temperatures were rising, and their heartbeats were accelerating.

Just as lust was about to overwhelm reason, the phone rang suddenly.

Katalia snapped out of her daze, abruptly shoving Beta away and taking two steps back. Her face was burning, and her fingers unconsciously went to her lips.

Beta pretended to be calm as she took out her phone, using the act of checking the screen to hide her disordered breathing.

The caller ID flashed the name "Jaina," Beta's mother. This call extinguished the previous romantic atmosphere like a bucket of cold water.

The air froze into an awkward solid.

Beta shook his phone, his voice a little hoarse: "I have to take this."

Katalia paced back and forth a couple of times, then turned and walked toward the bedroom, leaving behind the words, "You two talk." The door slammed shut a few louder than usual.

Beta watched her fleeing figure, his Adam's apple bobbing, and pressed the answer button.

Gianna's familiar voice came from the other end of the phone.

Gianna's voice carried a mother's unique concern: "Are you safe, Saron? If you have nowhere to go, the Continental Hotel in New York has arranged for someone to pick you up and take you out of the United States at any time."

Beta sank into the sofa, her fingertips tracing the armrest: "I'm fine, I'm safe."

“I saw the news.” Jaina’s voice tightened for a moment: “Are you alright?”

“Everything went smoothly.” Beta looked up at the ceiling. “Did I shoot off one of his ears? I couldn’t confirm it after the shot because of the distance.”

The sound of papers turning over came from the other end of the phone: "The High Table seats in the eastern United States have agreed to withdraw their support for Antonio. They are now on our side, but we still need to win over the attitudes of the other seats."

Beta nodded: "That's it. It seems I really did knock that ear off."

He changed the subject: "Where's Ashley?"

“Darling,” Gianna’s tone turned teasing, “you should call her yourself to ask her this, instead of having Mom act as a mouthpiece, shouldn’t you, little Saron?”

“Okay,” Beta replied.

(End of this chapter)