pjbooks Chapter 233 The Attack of the Valkyries
Chapter 233 The Attack of the Valkyries
Chapter 233 The Attack of the Valkyries
Prior to this, the record for the "highest single ransom in a global kidnapping case" was held by Cheung Tze-keung's gang.
In the 90s, he kidnapped the son of Hong Kong's richest man on Deep Water Bay Road, demanding HK$20 billion in payment. After negotiations, the amount was reduced to HK$10.38 billion, which is approximately RMB 8.8 million.
After the amount was confirmed, it was included in the Guinness World Records and has remained unbroken to this day.
This guy is now demanding $3 million plus two Apache attack helicopters. If he succeeds in extorting money from us, he will break new records in the history of human crime.
"Mr. Simon, don't you think your demands are outrageous?" As the on-site commander, Steve was clearly not one to be trifled with. He didn't haggle over the amount, but instead focused on the details: "3 million US dollars, even with the bank staff and the money counting machines, it would take several hours to count it. Not to mention dispatching helicopters from the Air Force base, which requires approval from headquarters and the Department of Defense, and the procedures are extremely complicated."
"Then I'll give you two more hours. Once the time is up, I'll kill the ticket. You decide what to do!"
Simon knew very well that it was impossible to complete the request in an hour. The reason he set such a strict time was simply to put pressure on the other party.
"Three hours?" Steve laughed in exasperation. "Ten times that would be more like it, unless you only want the money and not the plane."
"You bastard, do you think I'm joking?" Faced with Steve's bargaining, Simon suddenly ordered, "Grab any hostage and execute them on the spot!"
While his men were making arrests, he deliberately turned the volume on his walkie-talkie to maximum and held it high, pointing it at the crowd.
To be precise, they were just a flock of lambs to the slaughter.
"No, please don't kill me, please don't!"
"Daddy, let go of my daddy!"
A white male was dragged out, accompanied by a boy of about 10 years old. Both father and son were wearing Lakers jerseys, and it looked like they had just finished watching an NBA game and were just browsing around the mall for a meal.
Upon seeing this, Max instinctively tried to stand up, but was firmly held down by Ma Jieke, who gestured with his eyes for her not to make any rash moves.
Why try to be a hero at a time like this? Do you really think you're Black Widow?
Da da da!
Gunshots rang out, and the man was shot and fell to the ground. The boy lay on his father's body, wailing and crying, his voice carried on the radio waves to the other end.
"Mr. Steve, have we reached an agreement now?"
"One hundred million!" To his surprise, the other party was not only not intimidated, but also turned the tables: "Listen up, you bastard, the hostage you just killed was worth one hundred million US dollars, so you now have two hundred million chips left. If you continue your violence, I'm sorry, you will be kicked out of the game, and you will face a joint attack from the FIB, LAPD, and the Army Delta Force!"
"I stand by what I said. If you want to bleed, I'll bleed with you to the very end!"
The voice, transmitted through the walkie-talkie, reached the ears of each hostage. Those with quick minds understood that while the kidnappers appeared to be indifferent to their lives, they were actually threatening the kidnappers: "I will not compromise just because you kill the hostages. For every person you kill, the ransom will decrease by 100 million. Kill if you want, we'll all die together."
This is consistent with the US military's approach, which habitually involves a tough stance in hostage rescue operations.
The White House even has an unwritten rule that if a high-ranking government official is kidnapped, their family cannot pay a ransom to the kidnappers, or they will face legal sanctions.
In implementing their policies, the FBI and the Department of Defense also emphasized the principle of non-compromise, insisting on rescuing hostages through intelligence, negotiation, and force, even when faced with the risk of their deaths.
So from the very beginning, Steve never thought about preparing a ransom, nor did he contact the air force base. He just wanted to stall for time as much as possible. As long as he could hold out until the special forces arrived, he didn't care how many hostages you had kidnapped. He would just see if you would take care of them.
According to the government's explanation, paying ransom would embolden extremist groups and lead to more hostages being kidnapped.
In the long run, there's nothing wrong with doing this, but for the hostages trapped in the country, it would be a catastrophe.
This is why the United States has always promoted individual heroism. In most crime-related movies, the protagonist is the one who fights against the villains. There have even been movies where the president fights against criminals in Air Force One after it was hijacked.
Upon hearing Steve's hawkish remarks, Simon fell silent, because his elaborate criminal scheme was aimed at obtaining money, not at purely retaliating against society.
Killing was merely a means, not an end, but the other party clearly wasn't buying it, and even reduced the ransom by 1 million, leaving him unsure of how to respond.
Realizing his intimidation had worked, Steve decided to press his advantage: "Simon Kukas, are you still listening?"
"I'm here," he replied quietly, but his tone was much weaker.
"Within 24 hours, I will prepare a ransom of 2 million and an Apache attack helicopter for you and your men to escape. During this period, no hostages shall be injured or killed, otherwise all the conditions agreed upon with you will be null and void. Please note that this is a notification, not a negotiation."
After Steve finished speaking, without waiting for his reply, he shut down the device and completely cut off the signal.
"Fuck!" Simon was so angry that his temper flared up and he slammed the walkie-talkie to the ground.
He thought he could intimidate the other side by killing the hostage, but it turned out to be a case of shooting himself in the foot. This also taught him once again how worthless face is to the Ugly government.
Time marched on, and more than a dozen hours passed in the blink of an eye. The stalemate continued from day to night. During this time, the two sides spoke twice, but both were just perfunctory urgings and inquiries about the progress.
For the kidnapped individuals, every second of those dozen or so hours felt incredibly long, as they not only endured mental torment but also found their bodies struggling to adapt.
Just when everyone was on the verge of collapse, a striking figure stood up from the crowd.
"What are you doing? Get down!" The kidnapper immediately pointed his gun at her, issuing an unquestionable warning.
Simon glanced over instinctively and saw a fair-skinned, beautiful American woman with long, sexy blue hair.
"Sir, you can't treat us like this," Max said directly, his voice neither humble nor arrogant. "We're already 14..."
"It's been hours. We have no water or food. Adults are okay, but the elderly and children won't last much longer. Women also need to use the restroom."
Hearing that she had made such a request, everyone looked at her with gratitude.
Simon paused for two seconds, then slowly walked towards her, pressed the barrel of his gun against her chin, and gently lifted it up, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "Woman, you've got guts. If I shoot right now, do you think the bullet will come out of your eye or your nostril?"
Faced with the threat of death, Max's heart raced and cold sweat began to bead on his forehead, but he still forced himself to say, "You can't kill me. My life is worth a hundred million. Killing me will do you no good."
"Haha, hahahahaha..." He let out a burst of wild laughter, but quickly stopped, putting away the gun and taking out a pack of tissues from his pocket: "Baby, wipe the sweat off your face. I don't want to see such a sexy face become ugly."
"I don't need this!" Max didn't reach for the tissue, but instead wiped his face haphazardly with the back of his hand. "I'm negotiating with you on behalf of all the hostages. Everyone's in very poor health; people will die if this continues!"
"Go back to the group, don't make me repeat myself."
Simon's smile vanished, and he coldly refused.
To everyone's surprise, Max grabbed the gun barrel and pressed it against his forehead: "Come on, shoot me. Shoot an unarmed woman on her period. Is this all you're capable of as an American soldier? Besides slaughtering civilians and kidnapping the elderly, women, and children, what else can you do?"
"You're crazy, you crazy woman, let go! I'll tell you to let go!"
Simon was a little startled, and his finger almost reached for the trigger, but he ultimately restrained himself.
According to the FIB's demands, if any further hostage casualties occur, all negotiation terms will be null and void.
He didn't want to ruin the hard-won consensus because of a momentary impulse, so after hesitating for a few seconds, he shouted at his subordinates, "What are you all standing there for? Go find some food and drinking water."
This wasn't a particularly demanding requirement for our side. People need food to survive; even prisoners of war in World War II had rye bread mixed with sawdust to eat.
Seeing that his risky negotiation had worked, Max pressed his advantage, saying, "I need to use the restroom, and everyone else needs to too. We can take turns, two people at a time."
"No." Simon held up a finger and waved it in front of his eyes, indicating that he did not intend to agree to it.
The next second, blood began dripping down Max's pants, her eyes filled with rage: "Sir, you're making a lady look bad in public."
Seeing this horrifying scene, Simon was at his wit's end. He helplessly told his subordinate, "Take her to the bathroom, and come back quickly!"
.
When Max heard Simon agree, his heart skipped a beat. He subconsciously looked at Jack Ma, who had also stood up, clutching his stomach and looking quite uncomfortable. "Sir, I need to go to the bathroom too. I can't hold it in anymore. I think I ate something unclean and I'm about to ejaculate."
Upon hearing his blunt description, the hostage closest to him quickly moved to a different spot, fearing he might be injured by the splash damage.
Simon initially wanted to refuse, but upon seeing that the other party was a silly-looking Asian, he immediately lowered his guard.
In the stereotypes of the American people, Asians are the least intimidating ethnic group, and black people will prioritize Asian shops when running dungeons.
Perhaps fearing that Ma Jie would ejaculate on the spot like this woman, Simon had no choice but to order another subordinate to "escort" the two to the toilet one-on-one.
"Listen, I'm only giving you two minutes. The timer starts now."
Upon entering the men's restroom, the kidnapper glanced at the watch and stood guard outside like a doorman.
Ma Jieke entered the cubicle, sat on the toilet to adjust his breathing, and was determined not to let this hard-won opportunity slip by.
It is now almost certain that the government will not pay the ransom, nor will it care about the lives of the hostages. If we do not seize the opportunity, once the two sides clash, we will inevitably be caught in the crossfire.
"Time's up, kid. Come out now."
Two minutes passed in a flash. The kidnapper knocked impatiently on the cubicle door. Ma Jieke turned on the flush button, opened the door, and went straight to the sink.
He first turned the water to the maximum flow, pretending to wash his hands carefully, and then observed his opponent out of the corner of his eye in the mirror.
In the instant he turned around, he suddenly crouched down. The kidnapper immediately sensed the danger and his finger reached for the trigger of his submachine gun.
*Bang!* A clean and swift sweeping leg kick sent the latter losing his balance, falling backward as bullets poured from the barrel.
Crash! The bullet veered off course, shattering the entire glass wall and leaving a series of bullet holes in the ceiling.
The kidnapper's muscular body slammed onto the floor tiles with a dull thud.
But this guy has clearly received special training and is proficient in CQB (Close Quarters Battle) techniques.
Even when he fell to the ground, he didn't lose his position and tried to raise his gun to fire again, demonstrating remarkable reflexes.
In a life-or-death moment, Ma Jieke held nothing back. Taking advantage of the fatal gap in the kidnapper's vision and the brief upward movement of his gun as he fell backward, he tightly gripped the kidnapper's right wrist holding the gun and slammed it hard into the ground!
Click!
His wrist slammed violently against the hard floor tiles, causing the gun to slip from his hand. But instead of seizing the gun, Ma Jie deliberately created an opening.
Sure enough, the idiot's first reaction was to pick up the gun. When he touched the still-warm stock, a bright light suddenly flashed before his eyes.
*Thud!* A sharp glass lens pierced his left eye from above, and blood mixed with viscous fluid spurted out like a bursting beef ball.
"Ah! Ahhh!" The screams echoed throughout the restroom.
Taking advantage of his loss of sight, Majeke pressed down hard on his wrist holding the gun with his left hand, and pulled a dagger from the tactical pocket on his thigh with his right hand.
A horizontal incision as precise as surgery!
The metal blade transformed into a death scythe, instantly severing the kidnapper's carotid artery. Warm blood gushed out like a burst high-pressure water pipe, splattering all over Ma Jack's shirt and cheeks.
The kidnapper's screams stopped abruptly. Instinctively, he covered his bloody throat with his hand, making a series of bubbling sounds. His body convulsed mechanically, and his legs kicked weakly on the floor tiles.
Without pausing, Ma Jieke picked up the MP5 submachine gun and rushed towards the women's restroom on the other side.
Bang! The door was kicked open, and the scene before them was chilling.
The kidnapper lay on the ground struggling desperately, his neck trapped between Max's thighs, forming a stable triangular strangulation.
She gritted her teeth, and no matter how much the other person hit her body, she didn't loosen her grip at all.
This isn't a fight; it's a fight to the death. No referee will be on the ground counting, and there's no rule about tapping the floor to sign out.
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