The next morning, Wesley got up early, washed up, and began to sort out his equipnt. His main weapons were three handguns, two plain and unadorned ones in underarm holsters, one on the left and one on the right, and the carved one in the back.
The short dagger was tied to his left arm and the long dagger to his right leg. He put on his ordnance jeans and leather jacket. The grenade hung directly from the lining of the jacket. There were a few holes in it and he moved his body around. There was no obstruction.
"The firecrackers you want are already in the back. The fuse can be lit in the cab. This black one is the control key behind the garbage truck. I will support you on a high-rise building two kiloters away," Carlos said.
Two kiloters was two thousand ters. Ordinary snipers could not provide support at this distance, nor could ordinary sniper rifles. But Carlos could. This was the strength of a top assassin.
"Report, the Gibson father and son seem to be on the move." SHIELD's surveillance has been maintained. Today, they saw the father and son both leave the house and seed to have brought everything they had prepared.
"Good, continue to monitor. Let's see how strong the father and son are."
Wesley drove the garbage truck straight to Textile Mill No. 17. Along the way, he recalled the plot of the movie, but he forgot all about it when he was almost there, because rembering it was tantamount to death. After all, the situation was completely different and everything had changed, so what he had learned was the most important.
"How is it going? Are you in position?" Wesley parked the garbage truck on the other side of the bridge. He hadn't driven over yet. He was waiting for Carlos to get in position.
"We're here. Wait for . It will take ti to set up." Carlos did not bring a normal sniper rifle, and it was not just one. He first observed the distance and position with the military binoculars Wesley bought, then set up a travel folding chair. Then he opened several large backpacks and began to set up the stand.
He set up six stands in a row and took out his gun. There were a total of six long-barreled sniper rifles in the shape of firearms. Wesley had never asked him about his preference for these old-fashioned things. This depended on his personal preferences. Moreover, there must be a reason for using these things. It was fine as long as the effect was good.
"That's enough. Don't push too fast. My sniper rifles are single-shot and there are only six of them. It takes ti to reload," Carlos instructed.
"No problem. I'm not a rookie. And you have to be careful of your own safety. They might have people outside. If you shoot, you will expose yourself. Leave a bullet in a gun and you can counterattack the long-range sniper at any ti."
"Understood." Carlos hung up the phone and then observed the positions around him that could threaten his position. There were not many such positions. He had checked in advance, so there would be no problem for a while, but he still had to be careful.
Wesley started the car and drove straight across the bridge to the gate of the textile factory. He turned the wheel and the front of the car swung in the opposite direction of the gate.
At this mont, soone inside the gate opened the small window and looked strangely at the garbage truck. It was not until Wesley began to reverse that he realized that soone had attacked.
Boom! The door flew open and the garbage truck drove in without stopping. Wesley parked the driver's seat inside the door and used the battlents on both sides of the door to cover himself.
Sloan looked down at him and then said, "Kill him." The assassins in charge of the defense outside the textile factory drove past at the sa ti. Tap, tap, tap. This was the sound of automatic rifles. A large amount of automatic fire was fired and it hit the garbage truck with a clang. Wesley hurriedly pressed the control button and lit the fuse of the firecrackers.
Bang! Bang! Bang! The firecrackers rang out and the rats in the back of the car felt fear. They squeaked and wanted to escape from here. Then, the exit appeared and they rushed out. It was wide enough outside and they imdiately scattered and began to escape. The intense gunshots also made them panic and their four legs kept moving.
Sloan looked at these rats strangely. They were a little far away, and he couldn't see what was special about these rats.
Wesley opened the trapdoor at the bottom of the cab at this point. Carlos had done this. From here to the bottom of the car, he lay there waiting for the ti to co. At the sa ti, he pulled his pistol from the holster under his arm and steadied the clip and grenade on his body.
Ti passed, and the gunfire around them began to stop. But then the gunfire started again, because the rats had rushed in. The rats with electronic watches on their backs were enough to attract attention, and they were crawling everywhere. They bravely rushed to every corner of the textile factory and played unscrupulously, even if they didn't have much life left.
"Damn, these are bombs." The repairman kept killing rats with his pistol, but there are too many of them. There are less than a thousand of them, but there are hundreds of them. Even if the rats are killed, the bombs on them will not be removed.
"Ti's up." Wesley looked at his watch, then put his head in his hands and lay down.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Continuous explosions sounded in various places. All the glass in the textile factory was broken, and screams kept sounding. There was not much explosives on the upper body of a single rat. Their small bodies could not carry too much weight, so under normal circumstances, many people were injured, especially their legs. So unlucky people died from head injuries.
Carlos fired. He fired at the first sound of the explosion. His primary target was the gunn on the surrounding outer wall. They posed the greatest threat to Wesley. With the first shot, he did not have ti to reload and imdiately fired with the second sniper rifle. Another man fell.
Wesley silently counted the number of explosions, but he wasn't counting them. He wasn't that fast. It was the Apple counting the number and location of the explosions through his eardrums.
"We can move now." We can't wait for the explosion to end. Otherwise, the other party will have a chance to react. Wesley's heart began to beat faster. By the ti he got out of the car, his heart was beating as fast as it could.
His arms began to wave and his head shook quickly. He could clearly see his surroundings. He fired continuously with both guns and eight people fell around him in an instant. Then he swung his right arm and a bullet flew out in a beautiful arc and hit an assassin hiding behind a pillar. There was no glass in the window of the main entrance and he could clearly see the panicked people inside.
He leveled both guns and fired them in rapid succession, straight into the front window. This was the weaving workshop, the most crowded spot. Everyone here was an assassin, a character who could kill him at any ti, but Wesley did not panic as he watched them in slow motion.
With a click, both guns were emptied. Wesley leaned back, touched his knees to the ground, and slid directly under the window.
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