Chapter 18 The Attacking Mike

"Motherfucker! "Mike, the FBI's senior agent, swears as he runs.

That is, he himself had a lot of prestige during his time at the FBI, and had a few friends who were close to him. Otherwise, he would be standing trial in jail right now.

He still vividly remembers the phone call his best friend made to him: "Mike, shut up. Listen, a while ago, someone anonymously reported that you were involved in money laundering, racketeering and bribery. That guy Johnny led someone to check it out, and all the evidence reported was true. He is now leading a team to arrest you, so do what you want."

His best friend then hung up the phone and Mike was left in the dark. For the life of him, he could not understand why he would be involved in such crimes after working so hard. As a senior fbi agent, he knew that if all the charges were proven to be true, he would face at least 20 years in prison. Are you kidding me?

A senior FBI agent. No, now that he's on the run, he's a former senior FBI agent. He knows better than anyone the reach and power of the FBI intelligence agency in the United States, and if they really want to catch him, he will be caught sooner or later. So the only way he can avoid jail time is to find the person who framed him and get the evidence to clear his name.

As for who is framing him, Mike already has a suspect in mind. With so much effort and so much evidence, the only person who ended up having a grudge against him was the Angry Gang, one of the Manhattan gangsters he had recently been investigating.

"Anthony St! Mike ran for his life with anger in his eyes and an idea in his heart.

In an open-air coffee shop, Anthony has hired the space and is meeting with a brain specialist to join the private hospital he has just bought. "Mr. Majors, I hope you will seriously consider my offer. If you will come, I will pay you three times your current salary, and I will let you run the hospital."

In fact, it was thought that Anthony would not have to handle such a trivial matter himself. But when it comes to his own mother's illness, he has received a special prescription from the League of Assassins that can cure it. But to be on the safe side, Anthony decided to seek out a leading expert on the subject to administer his mother's treatment.

Majors smiled wryly. If he could help it, he wouldn't even want to meet someone like Anthony, let alone work for him. Just looking at the group of black men standing behind him, who exude a cold, murderous air, he would not be good or dare to say no.

Anthony, naturally aware of his concern, did not urge him, but simply looked at him expressionlessly as he sipped his coffee.

While Majors was scurrying around, trying to wipe away his sweat. Brock received a phone call and whispered in Anthony's ear, "Boss, that FBI guy Mike got away."

"Oh," Anthony nodded, not taking it to heart at all, like that little thing, the reason why it cost so much to frame him is mainly because the Angry gang is too publicizing this time. Otherwise, with Anthony's temper, a guy like this who didn't know what to do to bother Anthony would have been poured into a concrete pole by Anthony and sunk into the Hudson River by now.

Seeing that Anthony seemed unimpressed, Brock hesitated and said again, "Boss, do you think he will come to us?"

Anthony glanced sideways at him and deadpan asked, "Why? Are you scared?"

"No," Brock laughed dryly, then stepped back.

Just then, a man with a gun and a bomb burst in, and it was the former FBI senior agent Mike who was just mentioned.

Anthony raised his hand to signal the angry elite behind him not to shoot, and then looked at the Mike who had been a high-spirited senior FBI agent with a playful face: "Isn't this our senior FBI agent Mr. Mike? How can you be so embarrassed? Now you don't look like an FBI agent. You look like a fugitive on the run."

'You bastard! Anthony St, don't pretend here! Isn't it your fault that I am this way?" Mike bellowed, pointing his gun at Anthony.

Anthony gave an arrogant smile and then said with mock seriousness, "I thought I heard you slander me. Do I need to call a lawyer? We're Agent Mike."

Mike was furious at Anthony's pretense. He held the switch in his hand, flashed it in front of Anthony's face, and pointed the gun at Anthony, saying, "That's enough. I don't have time for this nonsense. Ste, did you set me up or not? !"

Anthony gave Mike a playful glance as if he had secretly pressed something on the spot. Then, lifting two fingers back, a cut cigar was placed on Anthony's finger. Just as the other side tried to refill the cigar for Anthony, Anthony said: "As I recall, didn't we buy an interesting lighter in our market two days ago? Use that one."

The guy in charge of lighting the fire was a little stunned, and before he knew what, like a shadow of gin came out of the shadows, brought out a technological lighter, lit it for Anthony and placed it casually in front of Anthony's desk.

"By the way, what did you want to ask?" Taking a deep drag on his cigar, Anthony let out a smoke ring.

'Did you set me up? "Mike thundered.

"Yeah," Anthony acknowledged with a nod, looking playfully at the pompous performance.

"It's you!" There was a flash of joy in Mike's eyes, but he quickly hid it: "Why did you do that? ! Is it because I led the surveillance of your Angry Gang that you want revenge?"

'Deliberate revenge? Anthony laughed. "We, Agent Mike, have you been getting one thing wrong all along. You have never been eligible for our revenge, the reason why I want to send you in, it is just that you this fly is too annoying."

Mike's face changed as he said, "You son of a bitch! You framed a senior FBI agent for this reason. Aren't you afraid of the law?"

"The law?" Anthony laughed and mocked, then looked at him coldly and said, "Agent Mack, don't you think it's funny that a fugitive from justice is standing here talking to me about the law?"

"You set me up!" Mike roared back.

"Really?" Anthony shrugged: "Who knows?"

"Anthony, you scum of society! Mike looked as though he was fuming with anger, trembling slightly as he pointed at Anthony's pistol. "Say it! How on earth did you set me up!"

Anthony looked at Mike playfully in silence, until he looked at him in the heart of the hair, Anthony said: "Okay, I don't play you, this game is too old, nothing new."

"What do you mean?" "Agent Mack asked with a clump in his heart, then tried to suppress his unease.

"That bomb of yours doesn't seem to be going away. Aren't you going to take a look?" Anthony answered the question unquestioningly.

A: What? Mike can not help being startled, looking down, the countdown above is sure to stop moving. Then he looked at Anthony in a panic and said, "What's going on?"

Anthony smiled playfully and said, "I think you should be more concerned about the other question, whether the recording or video device you are wearing is still working."

"You? !" Mike was really surprised. He didn't understand how he found out!

Anthony gestured to a part of his partner's body with his head. "Check it out."

While Mike continued to point his gun at Anthony with one hand, he took the device out and operated it. Sure enough, it was completely broken!

Then he remembered the tech-heavy lighter sitting on Anthony's desk and gasped, "So you found out. Why did you talk to me about it? !"

"Because I wanted to see, what does it feel like when someone suddenly falls from heaven to hell?"