American variety show: Sniper Elite

Chapter 57 Sudden
Beta contacted the hacker he had never met before again. The hacker easily broke into the first layer of the security system, making all the surveillance footage play in a loop to cover Beta's actions.

In the underground parking lot, Beta sat in the driver's seat of a black Jaguar.

The rearview mirror reflected a face that was an exact replica of Michael Bryce's, from his smiling eyes to the signature dimple on his right cheek. He practiced his signature smile in front of the mirror: first, a slight pursing of his lips, then a sudden burst of color revealing eight pearly white teeth, with three adorable wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.

"In a good mood today?" Beta muttered to himself, his voice adjusted to be 95% similar to Michael's. He finally straightened out non-existent wrinkles on his dark blue suit.

Beta pushed open the car door, his leather shoes touching the ground, walked around to the back of the car, pressed the trunk release, and pulled out a suit bag.

He held the hook in his left hand, opened the driver's side door, and leaned into the car. With his right hand, he lifted the armrest and took out the CZ75 pistol equipped with a silencer; the cold metallic touch penetrated the coating on his skin. He lifted his jacket hem and tucked the pistol into the holster at his waist, ensuring the suit jacket hem hung naturally without leaving a trace.

19:20.

The elevator ascended smoothly.

Beta tilted his head slightly, watching the constantly changing red floor numbers, mentally reviewing the details of the operation one last time. With a soft hum from the metal enclosure, a crisp "ding" sounded, and the elevator doors slowly opened.

He carried his suitcase and calmly walked towards the frosted glass door on the first floor of AAA Security Company.

Through the semi-transparent glass, the figures of two guards on duty could be vaguely seen. One was holding a steaming cup of coffee, while the other was idly flipping through the pages of "The Da Vinci Code," chatting casually. The door was not completely locked, but only slightly ajar.

When Beta appeared in the corridor, the two guards immediately stopped talking.

The guard holding the coffee was the first to raise his hand and greet him: "Hey! Michael! Didn't you say you were taking a day off today? Why are you back?"

Beta flashed Michael's signature smile, his voice carrying just the right amount of weariness: "A last-minute notice: we're hosting a big client from Vegas tomorrow. I need to keep spare formal attire in the office, just in case."

The tall, thin guard, flipping through a book, interjected, "The company's unusually quiet today. Is there... some big operation going on?"

Beta straightened his face and said in a slightly warning tone, "Let's leave this topic at that."

He deliberately glanced around, lowering his voice as if to warn, "The less you know, the better. If anything goes wrong, the first people they'll investigate are the ones on duty."

"Understood, understood!" The coffee cup was hurriedly placed back on the tray. "We were just chatting."

“Yes, yes!” The other person quickly reopened the novel.

Beta nodded slightly, his suit pocket brushing against the marble countertop of the reception desk. No one noticed the extremely soft clinking sound of the metal parts hidden under the fabric.

19:23.

AAA Security Company, first floor.

The empty corridor amplified the sound of footsteps several times over. Beta pushed open the frosted glass door of the pre-selected meeting room.

The suit bag made a dull thud as it was laid flat on the carpet. The zipper slid open, revealing the CheyTac M200 sniper rifle in the light. This 1.2-meter killing machine was carefully secured in the compartment of the bag, tilted at the perfect angle to fit it inside.

Beta placed the sniper rifle on the conference table, took out an incendiary bomb, and the metal casing of the thermite incendiary bomb made a crisp sound as it struck the table.

at this time--

"Michael?"

A female voice came from the doorway behind Beta, and Beta paused in his actions. Turning around, his expression had switched to Michael's signature friendly smile: "Hi, Vicky, not home yet?"

A blonde female security expert stood at the door, her light blue uniform shirt cuffs still stained with coffee, her ponytail loosely draped over her shoulders, her blue jacket draped over her arm, revealing a Glock 43X at her waist, and the wedding ring on her left ring finger reflecting the light.

"I was just about to leave after finishing the report." Vicky Davis's gaze swept across the conference table: "Shouldn't you be here right now?"

She suddenly fell silent, her muscles tensing beneath her fitted shirt.

“Charles de Gaulle Airport?” Beta replied with a smile.

A distance of three meters.

Vicky's right hand moved like a blur, but Beta was faster. His left hand had already lifted the hem of his suit jacket, and his right hand completed the entire action from drawing the gun to loading it in just 0.3 seconds.

Vicky's holster buckle had just popped open when the distinctive sound of the silencer rang out.

19:26.

Gunfire erupted in the silence.

Even with a silencer and subsonic ammunition, the gunshot still echoed dully across the empty first floor.

Beta remained in his firing position, watching Vicky Davis stagger backward as the bullet struck her squarely between the eyebrows, spraying a trail of blood behind her.

The blonde security expert's pupils dilated, her right hand still poised to draw her gun. Her long legs bent slowly as if bones had been removed, finally collapsing to her knees and falling backward to the ground. The coat draped over her arm slipped down, its blue fabric quickly soaking into a dark purple pool of blood.

“FUCK!” Beta forced out a suppressed curse through clenched teeth.

He strode forward, his leather shoe kicking aside the Glock that had fallen from Vicky's waist. The gun slid under the conference table with a soft metallic clang. Drops of blood were dripping from the ends of her loose ponytail, spreading into dark red dots on the beige carpet.

Beta ripped off his suit pocket square and haphazardly wiped the bloodstains that had splattered onto his cuffs.

Unplanned corpses are like ink drops in clear water; even the most meticulously planned operation begins to crumble irreversibly at this moment.

19:27.

A deafening gunshot rang out.

The bullet pierced the tempered glass of the meeting room, crackling and splitting the smooth surface with a sharp, sharp sound. The bullet struck Beta in the chest, the fabric of his suit dented and deformed by the impact, and the bulletproof plate hidden beneath his suit emitted a dull thud, converting the deadly kinetic energy into a throbbing pain that spread throughout his chest cavity.

Beta was thrown back two steps by the impact, his back slamming heavily against the edge of the conference table. He instinctively pressed his chest, his fingertips touching the fresh dent in the bulletproof plate; the thermite incendiary bomb had been knocked to the ground.
-

a minute ago.

The gunshots, which even the silencers couldn't completely mask, echoed on the first floor of AAA Security Company.

Two security guards on duty on the first floor looked up simultaneously, their coffee cups and "The Da Vinci Code" clattering onto the front desk. Following the echoing sound, they reached the east corridor, only to freeze at the corner—Vicky Davis's blonde hair was soaked in blood, her unfocused eyes staring directly at them.

(End of this chapter)