Chapter 686 - What Crime Did She Commit? It Was Love
Chapter 686: What Crime Did She Commit? It Was Love
He raised the Glock in his hand and swung it left and right.
Pa! Pa!
The hospital immediately lost a patient with uremia and a concussed patient.
Michael’s eyes widened. “WTF!”
Luke grabbed Kincaid and continued running. “He fired first.”
As he spoke, he dragged the black baldie to the rooftop.
As soon as they reached the rooftop, they heard the sound of a rotor.
“Alright, we won’t be able to escape from the roof,” said Luke.
Michael followed, and the three of them looked at each other.
Bang!
The door to the rooftop was kicked open, and a team of fully armed SWAT officers rushed through. They searched the area for a moment, but didn’t find anything.
Downstairs, Luke put the black baldie that he was carrying on the ground. “Are you an idiot?! You could have just climbed down the scaffolding. Why did you have to take the hard way and jump?”
Kincaid: “…How was I supposed to know that you can carry me down with you?”
On the side, Michael dropped to the ground from the construction scaffolding. “Cut the crap. Let’s try to find a car and run. Don’t kill anyone, okay? I’m a bodyguard, not a killer, okay?”
If this went on, not only would he lose his 3A security rating, he would also end up in prison for the rest of his life.
The three of them snuck into a car on the street.
The moment Michael opened the door, Luke made a firm decision.
He threw Kincaid into the backseat and sat in the passenger seat.
Michael started the car, and the three of them set off again.
Kincaid, however, was unhappy. “Hey, what’s that smell? It’s like a dung pit… Wait, is this your car?”
Michael didn’t say anything.
Kincaid was vexed. “Didn’t you drive a Jaguar before? What’s with this stupid car? If this was before, we wouldn’t even steal a piece of sh*t like this. Ugh, did that banker really blow up? And what is this ‘energy drink’? Why do I smell piss?”
Luke didn’t say anything. He silently took out a mask from his backpack and rolled down the window a crack.
But while he remained silent, the other two people in the car weren’t idle.
Kincaid this dog never stopped provoking Michael, and exposed him completely.
Michael, who had been badly traumatized, also revealed a lot about Kincaid.
Michael Bryce used to be a CIA officer, but later switched careers.
Thanks to his experience and connections in the CIA, he obtained a 3A security rating a few years ago and earned big bucks by keeping rich people safe.
In the end, he screwed up a huge job.
Not only did his 3A rating drop, his life also fell apart.
Kincaid had a long criminal record. His father was an alcoholic who had been in prison for a long time. Growing up in that environment, Kincaid was in and out of prison many times himself at a young age.
As hitman and bodyguard, they had traded blows many times and were basically evenly matched.
In terms of mentality, however, the older the ginger, the spicier it was.
Look at Kincaid. He had been shot in the leg and was being chased by the police and mercenaries, yet he was still talking and laughing.
What gave him an advantage over Michael was his mental fortitude.
Even when he was in deep trouble, he didn’t frown. Instead, he did his best to live even more assuredly, and laughed and cursed as he pleased.
Unlike Michael, who looked like an aggrieved woman who hated everything.
After driving for a while, Michael stopped the car in an alley behind a bar. “We need a different car. They can pick up my license plate on the surveillance cameras.”
Less than a minute later, they switched cars.
This time, Luke took the initiative to sit in the backseat.
It was Kincaid who had gotten them this new car. He smashed the window of the driver’s seat with his fist and completed the operation in seconds.
Although Luke could easily open the door of the old Mercedes Benz himself, he didn’t want to lose credit points.
It was the two of them who stole the car and drove it away. It had nothing to do with him.
An old Benz was still a Benz. Furthermore, no banker had blown up the back seat. Thus, Luke chose the more comfortable backseat.
One old man and one young man, one black and one white, finally started their two-man show.
Luke, on the other hand, leisurely took out a lollipop and munched on it.
He hadn’t dared to do that in the last car, since he felt that the lollipop would smell like piss.
Kincaid had also found the stash of a certain British drunk driver — a stainless steel wine bottle.
Opening it and smelling it, he nodded in satisfaction and took a sip. “This whiskey isn’t bad; too bad there’s no ice. Speaking of which, how did you end up like this? A few years ago, your socks were worth more than your entire outfit right now. Was your client killed?”
Michael’s lips twitched. “What’s the point of talking about me? What about you? How did an internationally renowned assassin get caught by those rookies from Interpol?”
“Of course, it was because of… love, kid.” Kincaid sighed.
“I had a job in Arizona when I received a call from the hospital. They said that my wife had been hit by a car and was in critical condition. The hospital said they needed a family member’s signature before they could proceed with the surgery. I didn’t even have time to finish the job before I took a plane back to Mexico City.” He stopped talking.
Michael: “And?”
Kincaid laughed. “In the end, more than twenty Interpol officers pointed their guns at me when I ran into the emergency room, drenched in sweat.”
Luke interjected, “Where’s Sonia now?”
Luke didn’t think that Kincaid would quietly surrender to twenty Interpol officers.
This old man had a lot of tricks; Interpol was nothing to him.
Sure enough, Kincaid was silent for a moment before he replied, “They locked her up in an Interpol detention center in Amsterdam.”
“What crime did she commit?” Luke found that odd.
Kincaid was silent for a long time before he finally replied, “Falling in love with me?”
Luke gave him the universal hand gesture, but agreed with him.
If they didn’t have his wife, Kincaid would never have let Interpol catch him.
Sonia probably hadn’t done anything wrong. Even if she had, she should have gone to prison instead of just being locked up by Interpol.
It was no wonder that Kincaid couldn’t be as active anymore. It turned out that someone had grabbed his beloved woman.
“Trapped by love!” The black baldie mocked himself with a smile, but he didn’t look dejected. “This is just like your Agent Roussel, who caused your security rating to drop. There’s no difference.”
“Fine, you were eavesdropping,” Michael grumbled.
Kincaid: “You were complaining so loudly, like a kid who didn’t get candy from his mother. It was hard for me not to hear you…”
Michael said, “You know so much about love, why don’t you write a poem? Maybe you can get it published in the newspaper.”
Kincaid laughed. “Haha, listen! Life is a highway and it’s mighty f*cking long…
“Nobody gets out alive, nobody gets out alive~”