Forty-eight-year-old Victor Bhutto is still ambitious and unwilling to retire, but he really doesn't have the courage to compete with the arctic fox for food.

He knew a little bit about the methods of the Arctic fox.

At that time, several arms dealers who were not much worse than him, died worse than the other, and it was thanks to his rapid retreat that he saved his life and lived to this day, and today's Arctic fox is more ferocious than six or seven years ago, and it is tantamount to looking for death to fight against the treacherous and ferocious murderers of that state without blinking.

"Why, old friend, you are no longer content with the status quo and have no ambitions?" Smith noticed that Victor Bhutto was reluctant to go out again, and he spoke aggressively.

"Since you have been an old friend of mine for many years, you shouldn't come to me, you are harming me." Victor Bhutto smiled wryly and tactfully expressed his displeasure with Smith.

Smith smiled a little awkwardly, and was about to say, but Victor Bhutto waved his hand and said, "If you go out of your way to persuade me to return to my old job, then this is the end of our conversation, and I will unceremoniously ask you to leave." ”

"Old friend, after so many years, you haven't changed, you are still so direct, I like your character, I hope you will think about it again." Smith patted Victor Bhutto on the shoulder with a sincere look on his face and left with a bit of regret.

Only fools think about it!

Victor Bhutto pouted.

Next, Victor, as a secret representative of the military industrial complex, lobbied everywhere and knew about the arms dealers of the Arctic Fox, but he was unmoved, but a few stunned young people who made a small fuss stood up, thinking that the opportunity to become bigger and stronger was coming, and they were excited to prepare for big business.

New York.

Bronx.

An area that the police are reluctant to enter.

In the decades after World War II, almost all the white natives moved away, and African and Latino immigrants gradually became the main residents of the district.

Inside a dilapidated warehouse.

Dozens of fierce and strong men, mostly black or dark-skinned Latinos, each with a gun, flaunted their might, like wolves and tigers.

The leader of these men, a middle-aged Latino man with pigtails and round-rimmed sunglasses, is standing on the roof of a modified classic car, announcing a big deal that has just been negotiated, and someone is willing to pay for the goods first, let them dump arms into East Africa, and give up a profit comparable to drug trafficking.

Dozens of reckless men screamed excitedly when they heard this.

"Moreover, it is safer and more secure than drug trafficking, and the arms dealers above have already opened up relationships for us and connected us with buyers." The pigtailed man shook his fist like an orator.

Dozens of people cheered again.

At this moment, there was a loud bang, and the warehouses were suddenly knocked open, and an unmanned off-road vehicle rushed in, rushing into the crowd, followed by an explosion.

The flames rose, and the high-temperature and high-pressure gas spread in all directions along with the countless steel balls and steel sheets in the bomb, and dozens of people present were all killed, some were blown up, and some were overturned.

The dilapidated warehouse collapsed.

At the same time, the killings were happening elsewhere.

In front of a luxury nightclub in Queens, the conspicuous elongated luxury Lincoln RV slowly stopped, and immediately seven or eight men in black ran out of the nightclub.

A bald man with a hooked nose got out of the car, dressed luxuriously, hugging two long-legged blonde beauties about his height left and right, so flamboyant that many passers-by looked back.

On the crowded streets, no one expected the accident that would happen in the next second, two killers on motorcycles and helmets suddenly appeared, raised their guns and fired in a row, knocking down seven or eight people, including the flamboyant man who came out of the extended Lincoln and the sexy girl next to him.

Determined that the target was dead, the killer calmly put the pistol with the muffler back into the leather jacket of the motorcycle, started the motorcycle, and walked away.

The whole process takes only a few seconds.

Overwhelmed witnesses stupidly watched the killer disappear.

Within a day, thirteen people scattered across the United States were assassinated, all of whom Smith lobbied.

………………………

Manhattan.

Inside a slightly lower skyscraper next to the Empire State Building.

Smith hung his head in frustration as he faced the dozen or so people at the round conference table, representing the nation's largest arms manufacturer, and even Boeing sent secret representatives to the meeting.

People who don't know the inside story may think that it is too exaggerated, thinking that a giant company as big as Boeing is not uncommon for small profits in the underground arms deal.

If someone really thinks so, they are either stupid or layman.

Boeing's Apache, which costs less than 20 million US dollars, can sell a random one, starting at 50 million US dollars, with some ammunition, more than 60 million.

Last year, the underground channel controlled by Arctic Fox sold 31 aircraft for Boeing, and Boeing made a net profit of $700 million, regardless of Arctic Fox's commission.

Who dares to say that $700 million is a small profit?

For Boeing, which earns $450 billion a year, 700 million is indeed insignificant, but it does not mean that it is willing to give up and allow Russia's Ka-Mi system to seize the channel controlled by the Arctic fox.

"Smith, we are very dissatisfied with your performance, and I think the people above us are even more dissatisfied." The representative of Boeing pushed his gold-rimmed glasses as he spoke, domineering.

"Dissatisfied, I can't help it, it's you who cut off your money, and it's not me who smashed your job, now that so many people are dead, it's a miracle that I can live to see you, you go find someone more capable to replace me!" Smith, who had been swallowing his anger for a long time, broke out.

Risking his life to run, but thankless, too chilling, and more importantly, the shrewd and treacherous Smith realized that continuing to participate in this matter would be more than lucky, and only by taking the opportunity to quit would he have a way to live.

Smith brushed his sleeves away.

More than a dozen people at the conference table looked at each other, all dumbfounded, and then each looked for a corner, called to report to the top, and the pressure was transmitted step by step.

Ten days, half a month, a month.

Time passed, and the military industrial complex, which suspended cooperation with the Arctic Fox, exhausted all means, but all the intrigues and tricks pale in the face of the fierce countermeasures of the Arctic Fox.

On the west coast of the Gulf of Aden, near the East African continent, two nuclear-powered aircraft carrier formations, the USS George Bush and the USS Harry Truman, sailed through the wind and waves.

It is not surprising that the two aircraft carriers appeared in the Gulf of Aden in pairing.

The Gulf of Aden is the responsibility of the US Fifth Fleet, and the Fifth Fleet dispatches aircraft carrier formations every once in a while to deter Somali pirates and escort merchant ships, but in fact it flexes its muscles to the navies of other countries.

As the sun set and the sea was about to be enveloped in darkness, the USS Truman lifted two sci-fi helicopters from the hangar onto the flight deck.

This new stealth helicopter was exposed in the mission to kill bin Laden, and it is still a high secret of the US military, on the deck, the elite assault group of the Delta Force in full gear quickly boarded the plane, and the terrorist king bin Laden died in their hands, who are they targeting this time?