Shadow Empire

Chapter 1149 An Unsuccessful Arrest Plan
As night fell, Derek and his entourage got out of the car; they were still some distance from the motel.

In fact, they had already discovered the situation here; those searching are always slower than those chasing.

When Messi and Ronaldo had Derecci lead the chase, all they had to do was floor the accelerator.

They quickly caught up with the cars ahead on the intercontinental highway, and after he explained Lance's decision, everyone began to act in unison.

First, a car passed by the motel at a relatively constant speed, and they did indeed see the stolen vehicle that had been deliberately parked under the streetlight.

Vehicles from the Lance family generally have some unique markings, such as their license plates, which all have a fairly uniform prefix.

Federal vehicle license plate regulations do not mandate that license plates conform to federal regulations; you can decide for yourself whether they are numbers or symbols.

Of course, in the future, the federal government will allow these applicants to add designs to their license plates because people need freedom.

However, their license plates now all have the same letters and numbers, making them highly recognizable and easy to understand at a glance.

After spotting the stolen vehicle, the first car stopped on the side of the road some distance from the motel, turned around, and repeatedly switched its headlights on and off in the direction the car had come from.

The car headlights may not be able to illuminate the roadside very well at this moment, but they can make people see them from a distance.

Seeing the constantly flashing car headlights, Derek arranged for a few quick-thinking men to drive several cars toward the motel, while he himself got out of the car and jogged to the vicinity of the motel.

On the surface, only a few cars and about a dozen young people have found this place, but in reality, there are many more people hiding around.

The young man leading the group was a newly promoted combat captain from his family. For family members in this city, getting promoted to combat captain was now extremely difficult.

In fact, from this perspective, gangs and corporations are similar; the easiest time to get promoted and advanced is always when the company is in its early stages.

In the past, all it took was a fight or holding onto your territory for a period of time to prevent it from being eroded by other gangs to have a chance to become a captain.

But now, they actually have to check in and accumulate points.

Only those who work diligently every day, can find ways to improve the company or generate creative ideas, and are willing to take on more responsibility have the potential to become team leaders.

Many young people have voluntarily submitted applications to be transferred to Indenau State. Although the fighting there is not very intense and does not break out as frequently, at least there, as long as you dare to fight and kill, you have a chance to make a name for yourself.

In Golden Harbor City, the monotonous and tedious work shatters the illusions of every young person joining the gang.

They came here to enjoy... the kind of life that people revere, not to work nine-to-five.

Fortunately, they are able to enjoy the life they want. Their work is tedious but not hard, and the salary is not low.

Those who can stand out in such an environment are generally people with a certain "foundation".

Having received a fairly complete education, at least up to high school, and possessing a brain that is smarter than others, as well as some courage and perseverance.

As soon as the team leader entered the motel, the adult male at the front desk stood up and said, "We need accommodation..."

When his gaze first fell on the young man at the front, the guy walking in front gave him a very special feeling.

It was as if... his hand slowly moved to the blind spot obscured by the counter, where there was a shotgun.

At such close range, the shotgun's outstanding performance makes everyone and everything equal before it.

He felt he was in trouble, and the shotgun gave him a sense of security.

The gangs in Golden Harbor City are very disciplined, but the world isn't just about gangs; there are also robbers and other similar characters.

Especially since this is an interstate highway with a lot of traffic, many criminals commit crimes on the interstate highway.

They would commit a few bad deeds here, and then quickly leave before the police could discover or react; they would then carry out nationwide mobile criminal operations.

According to cases that the federal government has discovered or solved so far, the most notorious individual committed approximately 170 robberies and murders on state highways.

Until he met someone he didn't get along with at an event, he lost control of his emotions and said that he had killed more than one person, and if the other person dared to mess with him again, he wouldn't mind sending them to meet God.

The person he threatened felt that this guy didn't seem to be faking it, so he promptly called the police.

With the police's involvement, they found many items that the victims had been carrying in the man's truck and home. He kept these items as trophies and as a way to commemorate his past actions.

Ultimately, these very things that allowed him to rediscover those feelings became the very evidence that led him to the electric chair.

If he hadn't lost control of his emotions, this case might have continued for a much longer time.

Therefore, the intercontinental highways during this period were not safe places; dangers were everywhere, both on and under the highways.

Someone noticed his movement, and immediately someone drew their pistol, while another raised their submachine gun.

The middle-aged man at the front desk also raised his shotgun, and the scene became very tense.

The young man standing at the front raised his hand, glanced at his brothers behind him, and said, "Don't be nervous, I'll talk to him."

The middle-aged man behind the counter nervously held up his weapon. "There's nothing to talk about here. You'd better leave immediately. You're not welcome here!"

The young man was not intimidated by him, but smiled and said, "Don't be nervous, we are from the Lance family."

As he spoke, he pointed to his sleeve. The middle-aged man at the front desk glanced at these people's sleeves and then realized that this was a unique symbol of the Lance family.

But he still did not put down his weapon, saying, "I have never had any contact with you."

The young man could sense the change in the middle-aged man's tone. He gestured for the people behind him to put down their weapons, which softened the middle-aged man's attitude considerably.

“We are looking for someone whose car is parked in the parking lot outside.”

The middle-aged man realized that the guy who had arrived not long ago was a big problem.

He stared at the young men's faces for a while, and finally decisively put down his weapon.

If they take action against the Lance family around Golden Harbor City, then the bones of his father, who was buried a few years ago, might be dug up and scattered.

Moreover, he had no intention of living anywhere else; he liked it here and just wanted to spend his life peacefully here.

"I... what can I do for you?"

The young man walked to the bar with a smile. "I believe that besides him, there must have been a large group of people checking in today, or yesterday, or the day before yesterday. They're from out of town, right?"

It's only about a two-hour drive from Jin Gang City. There are people staying there, but not many.

Aside from a few regular guests, there are generally some ordinary travelers, but not many.

The limit was already four or five rooms a day, so when the young man asked this question, he immediately thought of the people who had checked in three days ago.

His hesitant expression didn't escape the young captain's notice, but he didn't urge him.

About ten seconds later, the middle-aged man asked, "Does that include things from three days ago?"

"Yes, why not?"

The middle-aged man decided to cooperate. He explained the situation of these people and their room numbers, and pointed out the locations of these rooms on the floor plan. After doing this, he asked somewhat nervously, "You won't damage my house too much, will you?"

He seemed somewhat worried; if the gunfight left the place in ruins, he would have a major headache.

The young captain chuckled twice. "If we break it, I guarantee the Boss will fix you a new one, and..."

He looked around and said, "You're going to be rich."

The middle-aged man was a little surprised that he had become rich, but he didn't ask. He was more concerned about his hotel.

A few minutes later, the sound of footsteps could be heard in the hotel corridor, which was almost so quiet that no other sound could be heard.

The sound of leather shoes with iron soles treading on the old floor, the sound of the floor being crushed and twisted.

It creaked and groaned, the sound wasn't loud, but it kept coming.

The young man in the room sat up, tucked his weapon behind his back, and pretended to lie down on the bed.

As the sound of the key turning in the lock filled the air, his breathing quickened and his body tensed.

With a "click," everything seemed to fall silent again, as if the previous sounds had been a hallucination.

After a dozen seconds, a faint ray of light pierced through the crack in the open door. As the crack widened, the young man's heart leaped into his throat!

He could sense some people entering the room, trying to be as quiet as possible, but the hotel was old and their footsteps always made some noise.

He even sensed someone approaching him, but he had to pretend he was still asleep.

He thought these people would do something to him immediately, but soon there was silence, which surprised the young man.

Could it be a thief who broke in?

He wasn't sure, and waited for another minute or two, but still there was no sound, so he had to open his eyes.

The moment he opened his eyes, he saw a person standing in front of him. He had seen him before; the captain had been promoted earlier this year.

He had not only heard of it, but had also encountered it in bars.

They were "acquaintances" who had met a few times, but the environment and atmosphere of this meeting were truly disheartening.

Meeting the other's somewhat amused gaze, the young man pursed his lips tightly. He was lying down, while the other was standing, and they just stared at each other like that.

"Do I need to ask you to get up?" the captain asked.

The young man slowly propped himself up and sat up, rubbing his face. "You came very quickly."

He looked around at the people, but to his surprise, he had a feeling that they weren't targeting him.

If someone's hatred is directed at you, it's like they themselves have seen Lance from afar before, and you can't help but stare at Lance with hateful eyes.

He knew that feeling all too well, because the "target" was there, and he couldn't ignore it.

But now, everyone else's attention wasn't on him; instead, they were wary of the commotion outside the door, which made him feel uneasy.

The next second, a stranger closed the door and locked it from the inside. Then they each found some cover.

Just as he was wondering what was going to happen, the captain in front of him suddenly grabbed a vase that was used as a decoration on the table and swung it hard on his head!
In that instant, the dizzying sensation made him feel as if he were no longer himself; he was observing himself, knocked down on the bed, in a "soul" mode.

There was no pain, no fear, just lying there quietly.

Hot blood was poured into his soul like boiling oil. Only then did he realize what was happening. He reached for the pistol behind his back, but his hand was stopped as soon as he made a move. Then the captain smashed the glass to the ground.

Then a lot of footsteps sounded around him, and at this point, the young man finally understood.

Their plan was exposed, but the fact that these people still came in despite being exposed shows that they had already taken countermeasures.

He wanted to shout, but the pain in his head made it difficult for him to even open his mouth. He could only listen to his "colleagues" outside shouting things like "FBI" and "Open the door."

The next second, a gunshot made the young man shudder, but he realized that the one who fired the shot was neither the person in the room nor his colleagues outside. A large splatter of blood sprayed onto the window with a "plop," and the light coming in from outside shone through the blood onto the curtains, making them appear so red that it made one's heart tremble.

Then came the second shot, then the third shot...

At this point, the FBI agents finally realized what was happening. The senior agent in charge of the operation exclaimed, "This is a fucking trap, fuck! Get cover! Fight back! Fight back!"

The hurried footsteps outside and the frequent gunfire made the young man's heart sink. He looked at his captain and asked in a hoarse voice, "You all knew?"

The captain looked down at him with a disdainful gaze, "Your little tricks won't fool anyone!"

People in the surrounding rooms kept shouting things like "I'm injured," "I've been shot," and "I need help." These voices made the young man's mind go blank, and he felt completely dizzy!
The senior detective supervisor picked up the phone to call for backup, but there was no sound on the line. With the hotel owner's cooperation, they had already cut off the phone line.

Not long after, the sounds of gunfire gradually subsided, but accompanied by some shouts and curses, the next room suddenly shook, and even the entire hotel shook!
The young man's eyes grew even more wounded and terrifying, and he heard the voices of his colleagues around him, "We surrender..."

The senior agent supervisor, supporting his arm which was lacerated by shrapnel, raised a white flag made of a pillowcase. His surrender brought a huge sigh of relief to all the FBI agents involved in the operation.

These sons of bitches actually threw grenades into the room; they never considered that they would encounter such a situation!
If we don't surrender, everyone might end up dying.

As the fighting ceased, the surroundings became quiet again, and the young man was dragged out of bed by the captain, who confiscated his weapons and pushed him out of the room.

As he walked into the corridor, he noticed that the walls of the next few rooms were riddled with bullet holes.

These motels are mostly made of wood, with a layer of two-centimeter-long wooden planks serving as their "barriers." These walls are no match for bullets; even if a person hides in a room, they will be riddled with bullets.

When he saw the senior detective supervisor, who had spoken to him with an arrogant air earlier, now standing in front of him with a disheveled look, glaring at him with dissatisfaction and even hatred, the young man felt as if he had been punched again.

The senior detective supervisor didn't say anything, but obediently left the room and went to the parking lot with the remaining dozen or so detectives.

At this moment, after handing the young man over to the others, the captain spoke a few words with Derek and then turned to go to the hotel front desk.

The middle-aged man sat there with a worried expression. The firefight and explosion had frightened him, and to make matters worse, it had scared many of his customers.

Right after the ceasefire ended, several passengers secretly drove away, and it's highly likely they won't be coming back.

The loss of the house is secondary; once a bad reputation gets out, it will be very difficult for him to continue his business.

The captain looked at him and couldn't help but laugh. "Don't worry, remember what I just told you?"

You're going to be rich!

He paused for a moment, then said, "We will arrange for someone to come and calculate the damage to your house tomorrow during the day, and we will make sure that the compensation is paid in full."

"Also, I spoke with some important people in the family. If you don't mind, you could open a bar here."

The middle-aged man, who had been looking dejected, paused for a moment, and then his face lit up with ecstatic joy!
He knew, of course, how much money he could make selling wine, and he also knew how many people would come specifically to drink it once the news spread that there was wine for sale here, and that it was good wine. He was so excited that his lips were trembling.

He wiped his hands haphazardly on his body, removing the sweat from his palms, then gripped the captain's hand tightly. "I don't care about compensation. It's my honor to serve the Lance family and Mr. White!"

(End of this chapter)