Chapter 1214: Grudge
"Gabriel Singer is now a pilot for a private air transport company. His plane will land at a cargo airport in Mobile, Alabama tomorrow morning."
Jack talked about their itinerary for tomorrow, but his eyes did not leave the rearview mirror. At this moment, he was very glad that he had not made any pretentious remarks before.
Because the slap in the face came too quickly, just when he thought that the CIA should not dare to be too reckless in the country, before they left Florida and entered Alabama, a black GMC Yukon River with a government license plate followed.
"Lend me your gun." Before Frank finished speaking, Jack threw his sidearm and spare magazine to him.
The guy in Yukon River was dressed similarly to Jack, with a black suit, white shirt and dark tie, dressed like a federal agent. According to the CIA's nature, Jack could even be sure that this guy probably had a fake FBI ID in his pocket.
After all, it has long been a well-known practice for the CIA to pretend to be an FBI agent when doing things in the country.
"Wait until you get out of the city before you do it." Jack reminded.
At this time, they had just entered a small town called Robertsdale at the junction of the two states. There were cars coming and going on the road, and there were still many pedestrians on the sidewalk.
However, the guy who was chasing was obviously arrogant. Seeing that Jack had just entered the town and turned onto the road out of the town, he obviously realized that he was being followed and was exposed, so he chased him straight.
"Damn it."
Jack slightly increased his speed, but no matter how good his driving skills were, he didn't dare to drive too fast on urban roads. Running a red light was no big deal for the FBI, but hitting innocent passers-by was a bit too much.
However, the Yukon behind seemed to be worried that the night would be long and there would be more trouble. He stepped on the accelerator and chased after it, pretending to get close to the Suburban.
Jack snorted coldly and stepped on the accelerator to continue accelerating, pulling away from the Yukon again.
But the Suburban and the Yukon are both large SUVs after all, and their performance is similar to be honest. It is impossible to tell which one is better on urban roads.
Seeing that the front of the Yukon River, which was still chasing closely, was getting closer and closer to the rear of his car, and was actually posing as if he was going to PIT, Jack suddenly stepped on the brakes, and then changed gears, turned the steering wheel, pulled the handbrake, and stepped on the accelerator, all in one go.
Caught off guard, the Yukon River hit the rear of the Saabban. While the other party subconsciously stepped on the brakes to distance themselves, Jack had already controlled the huge body of the Saabban to start drifting with the help of the impact force.
The entire Saabban began to rotate with the middle area of the front and rear seats as the axis. When the body turned to 90 degrees, Frank, who had already loosened his seat belt in advance, opened the passenger door.
When the body twisted to 180 degrees, Frank stepped out of the car, holding the SIG Sauer P320-XTen given to him by Jack in both hands, and shot at the driver's seat of the Yukon River while walking.
The Suburban turned 360 degrees, and the rear of the car just brushed Frank's heel. At the same time, the front windshield of the Yukon River had been shot with dense spider web-like bullet holes.
The suit man in the car reacted very quickly, and fell on the seat as soon as he realized something was wrong.
However, the gunshots did not stop. Frank was just like Jack in the cemetery that day, with his shoulders and feet not moving, keeping suppressing and approaching the opponent quickly at a speed of one round per second.
The 15-round magazine was quickly emptied, and Frank replaced the spare magazine. He was less than 10 meters away from the Yukon River.
Almost in the less than 2 seconds when the gunshots paused, the suit man who realized something was wrong immediately engaged the reverse gear, stepped on the accelerator and reversed at high speed.
The gunshots rang again, and the Yukon River with holes all over the front of the car disappeared at the corner of the street at a speed comparable to when it came. The Suburban also drove to Frank's side, and Jack helped him reopen the passenger door.
"Frank, there's something wrong with the FBI. How did they track us down?" Marvin, who had been sitting in the back seat of the car with his pink pig in his arms without saying a word, reported to Jack.
"It's obvious that someone has been watching you."
Jack took out his cell phone and called Dana Moger, and succinctly recounted what he had just experienced.
Of course, he did not reveal that there were two retired CIA agents sitting next to him, but he changed the case of Beckett and claimed that he was investigating and was intercepted by suspected federal agents.
After reporting the license plate number of the Yukon River and hanging up the phone, Jack said to Frank with some regret, "I'm sorry, I can't go to Mobile with you."
This is probably the disadvantage of being in the system. When there is an internal conflict, even if he is a victim, he must report to his superiors and accept the investigation as soon as possible.
Although the female boss is considered a "family member", the procedures must still be followed, and Jack must go back to New York first.
That night, Jack flew back to New York alone. As soon as he walked into Dana Moger's office, he saw a familiar face he hadn't seen for a long time, CIA agent Michael Weston with a smirk on his face.
It had been almost two years since the last time he saw this guy (Chapter 591), and it was also in this office. The scene was somewhat similar, but the difference was that it was normal working hours during the day, and now it was late at night, which was considered overtime.
"Aha, it's great to see that you're okay, Jack." Michael Weston, whose voice was still hoarse, seemed very enthusiastic when he saw Jack, and immediately got up from the sofa and gave him a hug.
There is no mistake, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one 619, one book, one, one, one, one, one, one, a book!
Feeling that the pocket of the suit was touched gently, it seemed that it was stuffed with something.
"Since the misunderstanding has been explained clearly, I will leave first. It's not early, and a beautiful girl is still waiting for me."
Jack pressed Michael, who wanted to apply oil to the sofa. "I will leave as soon as I come. Is this the way CIA expresses apologize to the victim?"
In this surprising gaze, Jack took out the small note that he had just stuffed into his pocket, and then read the two names above, "William Copper, Simaia Wilker, they Who? "
"Hey, guy, you don't talk about rules."
Michael, who was anxious and corrupt, reached out to grab the small note. However, he was too bad, but he was pressed back to the sofa by Jack in two or three times. Follow all this.
"It turned out to be Cindeia's Bichi. No wonder it is so unreasonable."
Seeing Jack's surprise, Dana shrugged in Dana, who had always maintained the image of the elegant female boss in front of him.
"She is an action director of the Secret Action Division (NCS) under the CIA Action Bureau (DO).
Listening to the rough words and constantly spit out from the gorgeous red lips of her female boss, giving Jack's urge to cover her ears, but they can be heard that the grievances of the two sides should be a bit deep.