American variety show: The Godfather, the Peace Ambassador, what the heck?

Chapter 109 The Colombo Family Wiped Out
into the night.

A country house in the suburbs of New York.

"Death" Scarpa crawled up from the woman's belly. This woman had just claimed hundreds of millions of lives, and he felt that women were the true "reapers."

Lighting a cigarette afterward, Scarpa leaned against the headboard, holding his phone and contemplating what to do next.

Gallo was furious about the failed assassination attempt on Gambino, but there was nothing he could do. Gambino was not so easy to kill.
Actually, he wasn't really in favor of assassinating Gambino. Killing Gambino would only bring trouble upon himself. Gallo was crazy, but he wasn't.

He just wanted to kill the Yako faction members and end this conflict as soon as possible.

After flipping through the list and considering his options, Scarpa walked to the window and looked at the soldiers patrolling and guarding the area outside the villa.

There are just too many assassins in New York lately. I'm terrified wherever I go. You never know when a woman playing the violin on the street might pull out a gun and assassinate you. And those beggars in subway stations and on the streets might be hiding guns under their tattered clothes.

Killers are everywhere.

Just then, a message came through the walkie-talkie from one of his men.

"Boss! There's an intruder here."

boom!
The voice stopped!
“Harry, I want Scarpa alive. I still have questions for him.”

Luca's voice came through the headset. Harry grunted in response and expertly changed the magazine on his pistol with one hand. "No problem, leave it to me."

Because I also want to live, and ideally, I want to get information about Gallo and the others out of Scarpa.

Harry is now a regular at the club.

He ostensibly went to pick up girls and drink, but in reality, he was gathering intelligence and hacking into the system. However, Luca rarely talked to him about the mission, and he was unable to infiltrate other areas of the club, especially the rooms on the top floor. No one could enter unless Luca invited them.

Security was too tight.

There was a security supervisor who liked to wear round sunglasses, which gave Harry the impression that he was not someone to mess with.

Until tonight, when Luca provided him with some intelligence, Harry realized his opportunity had arrived.
After reloading, Harry raised his pistol and fired a silenced bullet, blowing the head off a person diagonally in front of him.

Harry burst into the villa through the side door. As soon as he entered, several assassins rushed at him face to face. Harry rolled on the spot, and several bullets narrowly missed him.

Hiding behind the sofa, Harry lunged forward, emptied his magazine, and took out three assassins.

Another assassin rushed in, looking bewildered. Harry reached for his waist and a dagger flew out instantly, piercing the assassin's face.

Harry remained completely calm after doing all of this.

When conducting espionage abroad or fighting terrorists, the situation can be far more dangerous than this.

He can usually handle it all by himself.

A car was parked on the roadside a hundred meters away from the villa, and the intense gunfire in the distance could be clearly heard from here.

"Calm down, baby."

Wuming crouched down to comfort the dog, then picked up his phone and made a call. "Pigeon, are you sure that guy can handle it by himself? There are a lot of guards inside."

Luca's calm voice came through the phone, "Why don't you go over and help him?"

Wuming chuckled, revealing his bright white teeth: "Is there an extra reward? I'll go if there's money."

All you care about is bounty, huh? Luca always has a way with characters whose bonds can be quickly boosted with money. "Do you really need money? How much do you earn a month now?"

This hits the sore spot for the nameless. The advantage of being a free hunter is that you are not bound by any rules, but the disadvantage is that you have no fixed source of income from any organization. You can only rely on the text messages from the Continental Hotel—the bounties inside the Continental Hotel are sent to each assassin's mobile phone via text message.

The competition for bounties at the mainland hotels is too fierce. Every assassin can see the public missions, but he has no chance of getting any of the private missions.

If the hotels in mainland China don't offer a reward, he'll have to rely on connections and acquaintances to get the bookings.

It's unstable, but one order can sustain you for a long time.

Wuming's biggest dream is to raise enough money for retirement, at least ten or twenty million, so that he can retire honorably.

"I make at least one or two million a month now."

Wuming deliberately gave a large number to boast about his abilities: "Many assassin organizations are willing to hire me because I can find the people they want."

“Then help me find someone else so you can earn a little more this month,” Luca said casually. “This mission is relatively simple. You know Global Engineering Group, right? They sent a mechanic to New York to carry out an assassination mission. I need you to help me find out who they sent.”

Those mechanics who're a bit obsessive about cleanliness? Wuming pondered for a moment: "I want 100 million."

"Round it down to 10."

"."

“I’m not in a rush. The task is here, and you can do it if you want. The deadline is before they leave New York.”

Wuming choked for a moment, "Every time they round it down to zero."
However, seeing Luca's nonchalant attitude, Wuming realized that Luca might not really be in a hurry.

It's just confirming a piece of information; it's not difficult.
Wuming laughed and said, "100,000 it is, deal."

As soon as he finished speaking, a line of police cars drove up from a distance, and Wuming's expression changed slightly.

Shit! Why are the police here?

"Old Pigeon, the police are here! Damn it, how did they get the news?"

"Huh? The police are here?"

Luca's voice turned somber. "Nameless, it seems your information isn't unique after all? I should have cooperated with the police; at least they weren't charging so much."

"Damn it! I was definitely the first one to track down Scarpa!"

The nameless man muttered under his breath, "I underestimated these police officers; they actually found out so quickly."

Luca: "My man is still there! If he gets caught by the police, I'll have to pay to get him out! Also, I need to question your offer. I paid millions for this intelligence, and the police have it too? Please explain, is your intelligence really worth that much money?"

Nameless: "That's none of my business."

As he spoke, he quickly led the dog away from the area, not wanting to be seen by the police.

"Old Pigeon! We had a prior agreement! You can't go back on your word!"

The car stopped at the side of the road, and David and McLean got out.

The gunshots were so piercing that David rubbed his ears and muttered, "Is it really that intense?"

"Is Scarpa really in here?" McLean asked curiously.

David shrugged. "This is the information I received." He didn't say where he got it from, but David and McKlain immediately understood and exchanged a smile.

The old pigeon has brought us credit again!
McClain put on his bulletproof vest, grabbed his weapon, and shouted, "Brothers, let's go!"

"You unlucky guy! It's your turn now!"

"Damn it! I'm the goddess of luck tonight!"

McLean strode into the villa, clearing a path with his bare hands, cutting down anyone who stood in his way!
What happened next was no surprise.

Harry nearly wiped out the entire villa by himself, and with the arrival of McLean, the remaining assassins were either captured or killed while resisting.

Scarpa was captured alive.

Harry, the spy "assassin," managed to escape after a fierce battle with McLean.

Harry had never seen such a strong and hard-working federal police officer who could fight him to a standstill.

Is it really necessary? Police officers only get paid so little, do they really need to work so hard?

Harry's attitude toward the federal police inexplicably improved, as if the police in the country weren't all useless.

Given the other party's identity as a police officer, Harry didn't want to use lethal force, figuring he wouldn't be able to kill him anyway. After a struggle, he was almost caught by the other party.

After leaving the villa, Harry quickly found his logistics team colleagues deep in the dense forest behind the villa.

"Let's retreat, the mission has failed," Harry said helplessly. "I didn't expect the police to arrive so quickly."

Several colleagues looked at each other in disbelief. Could Harry really have failed a mission?
"How are you going to explain this to Pigeon?" my colleague asked. "You finally gained his trust, and your first collaboration has failed."

Harry: "."

This is indeed a big problem.

Harry rubbed his hair. "The more important thing now is Scarpa. This guy might have some very important clues, and now he's in the hands of the police. Let's talk to the FBI and have them bring him over. As for Pigeon, I'll explain to him later."

"hiss"

Outside the villa, McLean wiped his chapped lip. "Damn, I've run into a tough opponent. He's pretty strong; he actually managed to injure me."

"When have you ever been on a mission without getting injured?" David was used to it. "As long as I don't die, it's fine."

Am I born to get beaten up? McKlain was speechless for a moment, then grinned: "You caught Scarpa this time, a great achievement."

David laughed too: "Don't get too excited yet, Scarpa has another use for us."

The two men turned around at the same time, and next to the policeman was a middle-aged man in pajamas—Scapa.

Scarpa was completely dazed. First, he was beaten up by Harry, then by McLean. Before he could even react, his hands were already cuffed.

He knew he was probably doomed this time. The police had found his way here, so they likely already had a lot of evidence. Putting everything else aside, the brawl in the villa earlier, the illegal firearms and drugs—he was implicated in everything—there was plenty of incriminating evidence in the room.

Not to mention that he has always been a key figure under the watchful eyes of the police and the FBI.

But things took an unexpected turn.
When he was taken to a safe house, met a lawyer named Richie, and heard that the FBI wanted him to become an informant, Scarpa was stunned for a long time.

"The choice is yours." This time, Richie didn't waste any words. "Should we hand you over to Gambino and have him kill you, or will you accept protection and become an FBI informant?"

Scarpa gave a wry smile. How could these policemen be so unscrupulous? They were always trying to hand him over to Gambino.

If he were to fall into Gambino's hands, he would die even if he had nine lives.

Richie: "You've committed a hundred or two murders, big and small. You're a real reaper. So many lives are enough to keep you in jail for 1000 years. But if you cooperate and become our informant, the FBI can reduce your sentence to a few years or even waive your sentence altogether."

We can argue with the judge that you were forced to kill because of an undercover mission, not because of your own will.

Scarpa was shocked. Had the FBI become this shameless?
Finally, Richie added, "Once you become an informant, even if you kill someone again, the FBI can still get you exonerated."

Having lived half his life, Scarpa had never heard such a funny joke before. He grinned and said, "Sir, someone like me can actually be exonerated by the law? A thousand-year sentence, and I can be found not guilty? And I can even be ordered to kill? Hahaha!"

"As long as you cooperate, it will be fine."

“Heh, so I actually have a chance to be protected by the law,” Scarpa sneered. “You FBI guys really like directing, huh? A reduced sentence contract? This will be the highest-grossing dark reality show.”

“No matter how many crimes you commit, you are still just one person. The crimes committed by the Colombo family in a single month are more than all the crimes you have committed in your entire life.”

Richie said calmly, "You decide for yourself whether you want to die at Gambino's hands, or watch the Colombo family empire crumble with us under FBI protection, and perhaps one day you'll have the chance to publish an autobiography and brag to your grandsons about how your grandfather destroyed a Mafia family."

Scarpa's expression was uncertain. After thinking for a long time, he finally let out a heavy sigh.

"I have one more question."

"Just ask."

"Did Gambino tell you to do this?"

Scarpa stared intently into Richie's eyes, wanting to know the truth.

"Gambino only wants your life, but in the eyes of the FBI, your life is now more valuable than Gambino's."

Richie, who has collaborated with criminals more than once, said quietly, "I'm not a moral purist, and I don't mind shaking hands with murderers, but only if your bloody hands can dismantle an even bigger guillotine."

"He confessed and agreed to cooperate."

Richie brought good news as he stepped out of the room; the police officers inside, as well as Denham who had just arrived, all smiled.

Get it!

Richie asked curiously, "Actually, I wasn't sure beforehand. I thought this guy would be a tough nut to crack. Why are you so sure this guy can be turned?"

David shook his head and smiled: "Old Pigeon told me that Scarpa's mouth doesn't have a zipper, so he can probably be turned."

Richie was slightly taken aback. Old Pigeon could even control this?

Suddenly, Richie remembered a familiar feeling about his attempt to recruit Frank, as everything was under Old Pigeon's control.

Coming to his senses, Richie smiled at the group and said, "Then I wish you success. With Scarpa as your informant, your subsequent operations should go much more smoothly."

Colombo is just fighting a civil war, but the old man wants to take it all down at once.

It still has to be the old pigeon.
Last time, it was Frank's drug empire that was destroyed. What about this time? Richie had a premonition that after this ordeal, even if the Colombo family were to die but not fall apart, they would eventually become the weakest family.

They either become vassals of other families, or they can wait to be devoured by them.

(End of this chapter)