American variety show: Sniper Elite

Chapter 135 Dispute
A van riddled with bullet holes roared into the yard, its engine's roar echoing in front of the red-brick factory buildings. The headlights had shattered in the gunfight, but the remaining right headlight cast a dim beam, illuminating the gravel-strewn yard.

The car groaned as it violently bounced, and the suspension system completely failed after two heavy bounces. Finally, it came to a stop with a "crash" under the concrete bridge, with sparks flying as the chassis rubbed against the ground.

The bolt on the rear door was deformed by the impact, and with a loud bang, the twisted door was forced open. McCree grabbed Fulton by the neck, where veins were bulging, and the two tumbled out of the carriage due to inertia.

McCree straddled Fulton, his thumb digging deep into the man's carotid artery: "Fuck you, Fulton! You fucking killed everyone!"

Fulton, his throat gripped, laughed, his purplish face contorted into a bizarre expression. His bloodshot eyes bulged, his tongue lolled out unnaturally, yet he still managed to squeeze out gurgling laughter from his throat.

The hinges of the driver's cab door made a grating metallic sound. Beta slammed the deformed door open with his shoulder, and a pair of eyes gleamed coldly in the shadows as he strode toward the two wrestling men.

Foldi, who was following behind, was trembling and jogged to catch up with Beta.

Beta grabbed McCree's wrist with his left hand and slammed his elbow with his right. McCree cried out in pain and released his grip, and Beta shoved him away.

Foldy rushed forward to help McCree up and found that McCree's back was soaked with sweat.

“Explain,” Beta said, standing between the two.

Water droplets dripping from the bridge arch pattered onto the scorching hot hood of the van.

Another spurt of blood flowed from the wound on McCree's forehead. He pointed his blood-stained finger at Fulton, who was still panting, and said, "That madman grabbed the AK and started shooting during the deal! Just because he thought that Mexican guy glanced at him!"

Fulton, who was identified, was now kneeling up, tearing at his collar with his teeth, and whimpering with pleasure.

The faint sound of sirens drifted from afar, and Fuldi shuddered, his hand reaching for his Glock holster. Beta, however, remained motionless, his gaze slowly sweeping over the three men before finally settling on Fulton.

The madman was digging at the cracks in the rubble with his fingernails, humming a tuneless song, as if the bloody gunfight just moments before was nothing more than a pleasant picnic.

"Fuck!" Beta yelled.

His iron fist slammed into Fulton's cheek, and before Fulton's smile could even fade, he collapsed straight onto the gravel. Beta turned and delivered another hook punch, and McCree also fell to the ground.

These two people will be unconscious until at least tomorrow morning.

Beta glanced coldly at Fordy: "Give them a blanket."

After saying that, he walked towards the red brick factory building, and the glass door slammed shut behind him, swallowing his figure.

Foldi stood frozen in place, staring at the two unconscious men on the ground, then touched his temple, which had almost been blown open by a bullet.

In the end, all he could manage to squeeze out through gritted teeth was, "Fuck!"
-
Beta climbed the rusty iron stairs to the second floor. Around the corner, Sterling appeared, leaning on his cane.

“Ha,” Sterling chuckled dryly, the tip of his cane sliding uneasily on the floor. “Looks like… you two aren’t getting along very well?”

Beta stopped in his tracks. Moonlight streamed in through the broken window, casting a line of light and shadow across his face.

Beta stepped onto the second-floor stairs, his footsteps echoing in the empty factory. Beta approached Sterling step by step, his eyes gradually changing, his facial muscles slowly relaxing, until finally settling into a blank expression.

"This is the veteran duo you were talking about?" Beta's voice was calm. "A black rookie, a white fox, and a complete lunatic. Sterling, are you kidding me?"

Sterling's Adam's apple bobbed, and as Beta approached, he unconsciously retreated. With each step Beta took forward, he retreated until his back hit the solid brick wall. Beta stopped just a step away from Sterling.

His face was expressionless, and his eyes revealed no emotion, but Sterling felt a chill creep up his spine from the soles of his feet.

The feeling is like being prey targeted by a predator, making even breathing difficult.

Sterling's lips trembled as he spoke.

Beta's gaze slowly descended, like a predator watching its prey's final struggle. Sterling's finely crafted carbon fiber cane lay silently on the dusty concrete floor.

Beta raised his head extremely slowly, his gaze piercing Sterling's trembling pupils: "Tell me. Are you playing me, Sterling?"

Sterling's Adam's apple bobbed. He tried to force a reassuring smile, but only managed a bizarre spasm in his facial muscles. His lips twitched, and his left eye blinked unnaturally.

“I will make them.” His voice rose an octave, then he quickly lowered it again: “I will make them obey your commands as if they were God.”

Beta leaned forward, and this subtle movement caused Sterling's head to slam against the brick wall behind him with a "thud".

“That’s not the problem.” Beta’s voice became unusually soft: “I see no respect, Sterling.”

Beta slowly raised his right hand.

“You’re the Leonardo da Vinci of the online world. But I need to see how you treat your employers.” Beta pressed his thumb against Sterling’s carotid artery: “Sincerity.”

Sterling's vision began to darken, and he realized his legs were trembling uncontrollably. Cold sweat trickled down his spine, chilling him to the bone. He had never felt so acutely that he was standing on the edge of life and death.

Beta slowly released his grip, his knuckles making a slight clicking sound.

Sterling gasped for breath like a fish out of water, his Adam's apple bobbing violently as he swallowed air. In the moonlight, the reddish finger marks on his neck were clearly visible.

"Change my player," Beta said.

Sterling's trembling fingers gripped the wall to steady himself: "It's too late. We have to act tomorrow. If we change people now, we won't be able to find anyone who can do this right away, and the replacements won't be familiar with us, making cooperation even more difficult."

Beta remembered the silent figure and asked, "Where's the mute?"

“The little mute girl went to Perico Island,” Sterling explained hastily, his voice still breathless. “She’s not in Los Angeles right now.”

Beta nodded slightly, a subtle gesture that sent shivers down Sterling's spine.

“Then tell your people,” Beta said, emphasizing each word: “Either they must obey my orders absolutely, or…”

He paused. "Tomorrow I'll deal with them first, then the witnesses. Understand?"

Sterling nodded so quickly it was almost a blur: "I understand completely! Absolutely!"

(End of this chapter)