American variety show: Sniper Elite

Chapter 30 Plan
Beta's knife futilely made two cuts on the tough steak: "John, you really need to work on your cooking skills."

He tossed aside the knife and grabbed the steak, which was as big as a tire, and shook it.

John nodded.

Beta tossed the steak back onto the plate, slowly wiping the sauce from her fingers with a napkin. "I'm going out of town in a few days. Leon, you can stay here if you'd like."

“I took Matilda back to the apartment,” Leon said in a hoarse voice.

John simply replied, "You decide for yourselves."
-
The night outside the window was as dark as ink.

Beta leaned against the headboard, the cold light from his laptop reflecting on his face. He inserted a USB drive and began making plans for his trip to France.

As he turned the pages of the document, his gaze lingered on the last few pages, which detailed the crimes of the target Indian businessman: bribery, money laundering, smuggling, and violent crimes. Yet, he always managed to escape justice thanks to his high-caste privileges and the corrupt judicial system.

The documents show that this person's trip to France was ostensibly to purchase fixed-wing aircraft.

Beta tapped his fingertips lightly on the touchpad. What else could a businessman who didn't own an airline buy in France besides Airbus aircraft?
The answer is obvious: Dassault's fighter jet.

Clearly, the employer did not want the Indian businessman to successfully complete the French arms purchase deal.

According to the schedule, the Indian businessman will arrive at Charles de Gaulle Airport on the 25th, marking his official entry into French territory.

Beta opened the underground trading platform and carefully searched the virtual showcase for design blueprints of Charles de Gaulle Airport or planning schemes for surrounding buildings. This kind of information circulated like ordinary commodities in the underworld; anyone with connections could obtain it and resell it for profit.

Beta slowly scrolled the mouse wheel, the list on the screen scrolling down. A document labeled "Planning Map of Paris Charles de Gaulle Airport and Surrounding Buildings" came into view.

He opened the seller's profile and found a 15-year-old account with 8000 transactions and likes, and a perfect five-star credit rating.

In the chat box, Beta typed two words in white font: Quote.

The other party seemed to be in daylight, and their reply popped up instantly: 2.

Beta buyback: 5000.

The other party waited a while: Deal.

Beta chuckled lightly: "Heh!"

Payment completed. Moments later, his inbox contained a document and accompanying CAD drawings. These kinds of files, having changed hands countless times, had long lost their value for encryption.

He clicked the print option, sent the file to the large plotter in the basement, and then got up and went downstairs.

The kitchen lights were still on on on the first floor.

Beta followed the light and found John sitting alone in the circle of light cast by the spotlight, with a half-empty whiskey bottle beside him. The amber liquid gleamed coldly under the light.

Beta pulled out the chair next to John, casually flipped over an empty glass, and the amber liquid poured out: "Insomnia?"

John tapped the rim of his glass lightly with his knuckles: "Yeah."

“‘Yeah’?” Beta said, “How about I call you ‘Mr. Yeah’?”

John downed his drink in one gulp: "Not very good." Beta put the empty glass on the table: "Since you can't sleep, go help out in the basement."

The bottom of the glass made a crisp sound as it struck the marble countertop.

John got up and followed Beta to the basement.

The large plotter hummed with mechanical operation, and A2-sized sheets of paper cascaded down like a waterfall. Beta casually tore off a printed sheet and secured it to the whiteboard with magnetic pins.

John nestled in the corner of the sofa, watching Beta meticulously categorize and paste various documents around the blueprints.

Beta asked, "If you want to snipe a target as they disembark from the plane, how do you make sure they stay still for six seconds?"

John replied, "Fire a warning shot first. The bodyguards will immediately pin him to the spot."

Beta shook his head: "The bodyguards will pull him into the armored car or push him back into the cockpit, so he won't be able to see the target."

John added, "Have the people picking us up present flowers. The flower-presenting ceremony should have at least five to six seconds of stillness."

Beta nodded: "That's a good idea. Dassault's people won't be stingy with a bouquet of flowers."

Take out a magnetic nail and nail it to the location of the VIP terminal next to runway 3 on the drawing. Beta measures out a red line, ties it to the magnetic nail, and wraps the other end with a red marker. Using the terminal as the center, he draws a circle with a radius of five kilometers on the map, strictly according to the scale.

Beta first needs to filter out all buildings within the red circle that might obstruct the view of the VIP terminal, as well as blind spots where the terminal cannot be directly observed. He will then use this data to create a miniature sand table model to ultimately determine feasible sniping positions.

Beta turned on his computer, connected the 3D printer, and continuously recreated the specific shapes of various high-rise buildings based on the building height and size data marked on the planning drawings within the red circle area, as well as the images in the street view map.

After confirming that everything was correct, he clicked the start button, and the 3D printer immediately emitted a low hum, the filament reel slowly turned, and the nozzle began to sizzle and print these simple building models.

Beta then used the plotter to output an A2-sized drawing. He laid this drawing, which was almost the size of a desktop, flat on the drafting table in the center of the basement and carefully secured the four corners with metal clips.

“John,” Beta said without looking up, “if you don’t mind, please continue printing the architectural model according to the scale of this drawing.”

John sat down at the computer, clumsily operating the modeling software. This kind of assassination planning, which required precise calculations, was clearly not his forte. Rather than working through data on the computer, he preferred to wear a bulletproof suit, charge into the target building with a gun, and deliver two shots to the chest and one to the head—clean and efficient.

Beta removed the 3D-printed architectural models from the printer, cut them out along the outlines with scissors, and then glued them one by one to the corresponding coordinates on the blueprints. He occasionally checked satellite street view maps to ensure that the orientation of each miniature building was accurate to the last detail.

The basement echoed with the continuous hum of the 3D printer, the filament reel spinning constantly, and the plastic filaments sizzling and melting under the high-temperature nozzle.

John awkwardly cooperated, pasting the gray-white miniature building models one by one into the red circle with a radius of five kilometers on the blueprint.

When the last architectural model was pasted into place, the original two-dimensional blueprints had been transformed into a miniature three-dimensional city.

Every building within a five-kilometer radius, from the towering terminal to the low-lying ancillary facilities, has its corresponding geographical coordinates found on the map, together forming a precise three-dimensional sand table.

Beta placed a miniature model of an Airbus A380 on the tarmac of the VIP terminal.

He took out a copper thumbtack and firmly nailed it onto the passenger plane model. Then he pulled out more than a dozen bright red marking lines. Red nylon lines radiated out from the thumbtack and tautly connected to every surrounding building model that met the requirements for sniping.

(End of this chapter)