dkrc Chapter 153 Another assassin arrives?
Chapter 153 Another assassin arrives?
Chapter 153 Another assassin arrives?
Unlike the bright sunshine of Los Angeles, Washington, D.C. in April seems to be shrouded in a layer of leaden-gray clouds that can never be penetrated.
The continuous rain has lasted for three whole days, soaking the entire city in a depressing dampness and chill.
Outside the Capitol Building, the magnificent white dome was faintly visible through the rain and mist.
This solemn place, symbolizing the highest power of the nation, was now completely drowned out by deafening noise.
Tens of thousands of people, wearing colorful raincoats and holding black umbrellas, formed a surging tide, completely blocking the square in front of the Capitol.
"Hand over the real culprit! Refuse to cover it up!"
"Who is turning America into a killing field?!"
"Protect civilians! Punish terrorism severely!"
A hoarse, angry roar blared from loudspeakers as the crowd held up rain-soaked protest signs bearing a photograph of Bruce Lee lying on the ground during his assassination attempt at Long Beach Harbor.
The anger of the American public, after Ronna Barrett's live broadcast, has completely spiraled out of control, turning into flames that have spread all the way to the highest center of power.
Inside the Capitol Building, in Senate Hearing Room 1.
The gate was tightly closed, shutting out the noise from the outside world.
The hall was packed. "Click! Click! Click!" In the media section, dozens of reporters' camera shutters clicked like a tireless machine gun, flashing continuously.
In the center of the hearing box, President Richard Nixon, dressed in a dark blue suit, had his hands folded on the table in front of him.
Sweat was pouring down his forehead, but he had no mind to wipe it away; he just pursed his lips tightly, his face grim.
This president, once known for his iron fist, is currently at the weakest point in his political career.
His original plan was perfect: to use the Hollywood bombing to create a vague "folk hero" legend and divert public attention from the political scandal.
Who would have thought that the Chinese man named Qin Han and the stubborn martial artist would dare to overturn a table live on air across the United States!
Nixon, who had originally intended to defuse the situation with a cold shoulder and silence, was forced to sit here and face questioning from Congress.
For him, the topic of this meeting was simple yet deadly: the recent series of armed attacks against prominent public figures on American soil – was it a sign of deteriorating security or infiltration by external forces?
On both sides of the hall, the members of parliament were clearly divided into opposing camps.
On the left is the conservative camp led by several veteran senators.
They were mostly pot-bellied, well-dressed, and their eyes revealed an arrogant condescension.
Behind these people are Washington’s deeply entrenched zaibatsu and the “Japan clique” that has long acted as a protector of Japanese zaibatsu and has a share of Asian interests.
On the right are several young lawmakers with upright postures and sharp eyes.
They represent the interests of America’s new capital, such as Hollywood, and high-ranking military officials like General Bill Gates.
The two groups' gazes clashed in the air, their hostility towards each other undisguised.
The hearing has been going on for an hour, and conservatives have been trying to downplay the seriousness of the incident.
"Mr. President, colleagues, we must remain rational and not be held hostage by the emotions on the streets," a conservative congressman said.
"The shooting at the Port of Long Beach in Los Angeles is undoubtedly a tragedy. But we must see the true nature of the facts. According to the LAPD..."
The preliminary investigation assessment suggests that this is most likely just a routine gangland killing.
He adjusted his glasses, his gaze sweeping over the media section, deliberately slowing his speech: "We all know that Mr. Bruce Lee is not just a movie star, but also a Chinese martial arts master. And the so-called security team surrounding him," according to multiple reliable sources, has core members who have previously been active in underground gangs in Chinatown.
"Gentlemen, this is nothing more than a self-destructive conflict among street thugs over profits or old grudges."
The senior legislator spread his hands, looking heartbroken.
"Some unscrupulous media outlets, in their pursuit of sensationalism, maliciously exaggerate the situation, even linking it to terrifying terms like national security and terrorism. This not only creates social panic but also wastes taxpayers' money and the FBI's valuable resources!"
This statement, which subverts the concept, distorts the nature of Bruce Lee's assassination from "an innocent civilian being assassinated" into "a gang fight."
A commotion immediately broke out in the media section. Several reporters with a strong sense of justice angrily gripped their notebooks, but were unable to speak due to the hearing rules.
However, before the smugness on the conservative lawmakers' faces could completely fade, a piercingly cold laugh suddenly came from the right side of the hall.
A deafeningly loud "Bang!!"
A young congressman representing the military abruptly stood up and slammed a heavy file folder onto the table in front of him.
The red "Pentagon Top Secret" stamp on it looked alarming under the bright lights.
Everyone's attention was drawn to the file folder.
"Street thugs' self-destruction? Gangland feuds?"
The young lawmakers placed their hands on the table, leaning forward like a cheetah eyeing its prey, their eyes radiating a chilling coldness.
"Senator Sterling, it would be a huge loss to American culture if your imagination didn't go into Hollywood to write screenplays!"
He ripped open the envelope, pulled out a thick stack of documents, and held it high.
"This is a cross-certification report jointly prepared overnight by the Department of Defense's Materiel Logistics Agency and the Federal Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives!"
"These are the street weapons you're talking about that are used by gangs in Los Angeles' Chinatown!"
He grabbed the microphone, his voice booming like thunder in everyone's ears: "Model: XM21 high-precision sniper rifle! Equipped with an ART military-grade automatic rangefinder scope! Loaded with 7.62mm NATO standard full metal jacket ammunition!"
With each word uttered, the faces of the conservative lawmakers on the other side turned paler.
"What's even more despicable is that, after verifying the factory stamp and serial number on the gun, the file for this gun points directly to the armory of a certain elite special forces unit currently in service with the Chinese Army!"
"Whoa!!!"
""
The entire hearing hall erupted in chaos!
The reporters jumped up from their seats like madmen, flashing their cameras ten times more frequently than before, frantically targeting Wenjiang.
A high-precision military-grade sniper rifle has fallen into the hands of a killer in Los Angeles!
This is blatant treason!
"Quiet! Silence!" The bailiffs trying to maintain order pounded their gavels, but they couldn't quell the uproar at all.
The younger congressman completely ignored the chaos, strode to the center of the aisle, pointed at the conservative congressman's nose, and began to berate him: "The military's armory has become someone's personal ATM! Someone is reselling active-duty weapons, even providing logistical support to foreign extremists, condoning them assassinating unarmed civilians on our soil, in front of hundreds of American journalists!"
"You bunch of gold-brained idiots! Your pockets are stuffed with dirty money from Japanese zaibatsu; have you sold your conscience and national dignity to them too?!"
"How long are you going to keep up this filthy business in Asia, pretending to be blind to the people of America and the world?!"
Every word is piercing to the heart!
The conservative lawmaker felt as if he had been punched in the face and slumped back into his leather chair.
He opened his mouth, wanting to argue, but found that in the face of that irrefutable evidence bearing the Pentagon's seal, any words seemed pale and powerless.
His colleagues behind him were even more ashen-faced. Some frantically wiped away cold sweat, while others lowered their heads to avoid the media's seemingly murderous cameras.
In the center of the hearing box, Nixon gripped the armrests of his chair tightly with both hands.
As President of the United States, he knew all too well what this report meant.
The military hardliners not only uncovered the source of the gun, but also, at this critical juncture, with a completely uncompromising stance, brought the matter to the forefront.
Under normal circumstances, he might weigh the interests of both parties and try to find a balance.
After all, the United States still needs Japan as a pawn in its strategic deployment in the Asia-Pacific region.
But now—outside are tens of thousands of angry protesters, and inside the hall are major media outlets from across the country.
Most fatally, because of the Watergate scandal, calls for his impeachment in Congress have grown louder and louder.
If a sufficiently heavyweight scapegoat is not immediately thrown out to quell the storm, the fury of the enraged public and military will completely engulf him and his cabinet!
Screw allied interests! Screw corporate donations!
Politics has always been a game of sacrificing pawns to save the army.
Nixon loosened his clenched fists, straightened the hem of his suit jacket, and slowly stood up.
As soon as he moved, the clamor in the hall subsided, and all the cameras and eyes refocused on the Supreme Commander of the United States.
Nixon walked to the microphone, his chin slightly raised, his eyes no longer clouded with gloom, but instead exuding an unassailable authority and toughness.
"The territory of the United States of America is not a playground where any external force can act with impunity."
His voice was deep and powerful, and it was broadcast throughout the United States.
"Today, the evidence before us is appalling. This is not merely a violent crime against an individual; it is a blatant provocation against U.S. national security!"
Nixon's cold gaze swept over the ashen-faced conservatives on his right: "I hereby solemnly declare that this administration has zero tolerance for any form of terrorism! No matter who is behind this evil force, American law will pursue them to the end and show no leniency!"
"Secretary Kissinger, immediately summon the Japanese ambassador to the United States after the hearing!"
"I demand that the Japanese government provide a full explanation within 24 hours regarding the domestic extremist forces involved in this incident!"
"Otherwise, Japan will face the most severe economic sanctions and diplomatic downgrade from the United States of America! The dignity of the United States will not be tested!"
His menacing statement instantly ignited the enthusiasm of the entire audience.
The protesters, who had been demonstrating, erupted in cheers after hearing the president's speech on the radio.
Three hours after the hearing concluded.
Inside an upscale private club on the outskirts of Georgetown, Washington, D.C.
The main lights in the room were not on; only a few dim wall lamps emitted a faint glow.
The five elderly men sitting on the leather sofa were the same conservative bigwigs who had been harshly criticized at the hearing just hours earlier.
They represent a huge interest group deeply intertwined with Japan.
No one was talking; the only sound was the clinking of ice cubes in the Scotch whisky glasses.
In everyone's eyes burned an extreme anger and despair born of betrayal.
"What a fine example of zero tolerance! What a severe punishment!"
The elderly man, seated at the head of the table, forcefully stubbed out his half-smoked cigar in the crystal ashtray: "That idiot Richard, did he really think that by throwing us out as shields to quell the anger of the military and those peasants, he could secure his position in the White House?"
Another bigwig scoffed and downed his liquor in one gulp: "He overestimates himself. Without our votes in Congress and Beckin's support, he's not even worth a drowning man!"
"Since he disregards the interests of his long-standing allies and wants to use our corpses to whitewash himself—"
"Then there's no need for us to keep those shady secrets for him anymore. Does he really think he'll win?"
The person in the main seat took a deep breath, reached into the briefcase beside him, and pulled out a black waterproof box.
"Inside here is an unedited cassette tape from the Oval Office." His voice sounded particularly sinister in the quiet, enclosed room.
"It's a million times more deadly than the flimsy leads The Washington Post has now. It clearly documents how Richard personally gave orders to cover up every single detail of the Watergate phone call."
The other four bigwigs stared at the black metal box, their breathing unconsciously becoming heavier.
Once this thing comes to light, Nixon's political life will be instantly ended, and he may even face extremely serious criminal charges.
"Notify The Newtie Times. Utilize all our media resources and prepare for this super-hot news story."
"Since Richard wants us dead, then let's all go to hell together. After that, we'll formally initiate impeachment proceedings against this treacherous bastard!"
On the other side of the Pacific Ocean.
While Washington was engulfed in a storm of intrigue, Los Angeles remained sunny and bright.
On the second-floor terrace of the West Hollywood villa, Qin Han, wearing a comfortable silk robe, leisurely woke up from the soft bed.
He slept very soundly.
Although the crisis at Long Beach was perilous, its subsequent developments were very beneficial to Bruce Lee's safety.
Using a captured military sniper rifle, he successfully spread the fire to Washington.
With several major projects of Han's Film Company progressing smoothly, and preparations for "American Graffiti" on track, everything is moving in the best possible direction.
-
Stepping onto the terrace and breathing in the fresh California morning air, Qin Han felt great.
Suddenly, his movements froze.
[Daily intelligence update has been implemented]
[An attempt was made to hijack a civilian commercial airliner and ram it into the White House in Washington, D.C. The aim: assassination of United States President Richard Nixon!]