Doomsday of the Deadlock Gang

Doomsday of the Deadlock Gang

"Boss, it's really lively outside." Sarah stood by the door, watching the scene outside through the glass, then turned back to Evenson.

Evenson was slurping noodles from a bucket of Kangxifu instant noodles. "It is pretty lively. But once they find my gift, I think it'll get even livelier."

What was happening outside? Let's take a look.

First, six Black Hawk helicopters hovered overhead, lowering soldiers in black urban combat uniforms by rope. Then, after dropping off their personnel, more than a dozen military Humvees simultaneously sealed off every street corner and alleyway. One soldier operated a vehicle-mounted Gatling gun, vigilantly watching the surroundings. Without question, anyone who dared make a move would be mercilessly blasted into a pile of meat.

The soldiers who had disembarked from the helicopters and vehicles were not idle either. Fully armed and well-trained, they swiftly moved through the streets in standard combat search formations, advancing toward the targets designated in the operation plan.

Such a huge commotion outside could not possibly have gone unnoticed by only Sarah and Evenson. In fact, nearly all of Brooklyn had been alerted. However, perhaps because American law enforcement had a lower threshold for using firearms—or perhaps because the chance of them opening fire was simply too high—the residents did not display their usual reckless enthusiasm for watching a spectacle. Instead, they rushed back into their homes or nearby buildings to take cover, afraid that if shots were fired, they might get hit by a stray bullet.

Though they were scared, they were still curious. They secretly watched every movement on the street from wherever they were hiding. A few sharp-eyed people even noticed the lettering on the soldiers' backs. It was not the familiar Police, FBI, or the relatively mysterious CIA, but the even more unfamiliar S.H.I.E.L.D.

At this point in time, ordinary people knew very little about S.H.I.E.L.D. The only thing they knew was its name; they had no idea what it did, and could only guess that it handled matters similar to the CIA.

Still, ignorance did not stop them from realizing that something major was happening. Everyone began speculating. Were foreign spies hiding here? Had some big shot come to Brooklyn for a vacation? Or was Bin Laden not in the Middle East at all, but hiding in Brooklyn? They watched the streets even more closely, but once they saw exactly who the soldiers were arresting, only one phrase remained in their minds: What the hell!

These soldiers, who could fight drug cartel guards fearless of death or trade gunfire in the streets with professional mercenaries who lived on the edge of a blade, had the Deadlock Gang's petty thugs as their targets.

This was one long, Andes-Mountains-level "what the hell." The gap between expectation and reality was just too great. But they were not the only ones who wanted to say it.

Every member of the Deadlock Gang wore an utterly bewildered expression. As they were being arrested, they even felt as if they were dreaming. Was this really necessary? Our gang's name is kind of badass, but there's nothing special about us otherwise. We only collect protection money on the streets, tease a few girls, eat at restaurants without paying. Sure, we do some drug dealing, but it's low-grade stuff, and the quantities are pitifully small. The local addicts even banded together and made a fuss, saying that if we didn't solve the supply shortage, they'd make us regret it. When my addiction hits, I'd even chop myself up—are you scared or not? For this little crap, did you really need such a huge operation? I'm going to sue you. I'm going to use the law to accuse you of wasting taxpayers' money.

It was said that later, the final boss of the Deadlock Gang wrote a lengthy masterpiece in prison titled How Taxpayers' Money Is Wasted. But that was a story for another time.

Though the Deadlock Gang members were still dazed, the people arresting them did not hesitate. They knocked them to the ground with rifle butts, and then two burly men immediately pounced on them—smack, smack, smack. Ah, no. They twisted their arms behind their backs, cuffed them, pulled hoods over their heads, loaded them into vehicles, and took them away.

Thus, the clueless bystanders came up with what they considered a reasonable explanation for this absurd scene of using anti-aircraft guns to kill mosquitoes. The Deadlock Gang's petty-gangster image was merely a cover. They were actually members of a hidden major terrorist organization, or perhaps a spy network that had infiltrated the country and was ready to become collaborators at any moment. In fact, quite a few Deadlock Gang members thought the same thing. They felt that they might belong to some extremely powerful organization without even knowing it. Maybe one day, some bearded man would step onto a stage to give a speech, and they would all transform into holy warriors, shouting "Allah Akbar!" as they perished together with their enemies.

To be honest, their guess was not entirely unreasonable. There were countless gangs like theirs across the United States. S.H.I.E.L.D. certainly would not have the spare time to crack down on ordinary gangs. The reason this was happening was that S.H.I.E.L.D. had determined that the Deadlock Gang was connected to the super-terrorist and super-criminal organization Hydra—or perhaps was Hydra outright, at least in part. And the reason S.H.I.E.L.D. had reached that conclusion was simply because Evenson had thoroughly fooled them.

When Coulson reported to Nick Fury that members of the Deadlock Gang had gone to see Evenson before he did, and that they knew Evenson possessed supernatural abilities and had tried to recruit him, he added that those men had already been killed by Evenson. However, before dying, one of them had shouted Hydra's famous motto: "Cut off one head, two more shall take its place." Therefore, Hydra might have risen from the ashes.

Naturally, Nick Fury did not believe it immediately. After all, the name Hydra had not appeared for half a century and was usually found only in historical archives. "Is that possible? It may have just been the ravings of a petty thug. You know, some punks like to use cool-sounding phrases as catchphrases. Some wear armbands with that symbol, others pin Iron Crosses to their clothes. They do not do it because they understand what those things mean. They just think they look cool."

Melinda stepped forward. "Sir, I do not believe a petty thug would shout something he merely thought was cool at the moment of death instead of begging for mercy."

What courage could a bully who preyed on the weak possibly possess? When someone with supernatural powers had him by the throat and was about to burn him to ashes, would he shout such fearless words in the face of death? How could that be possible? Normally, he should have been begging for mercy while wetting his pants. The only reason he said those words was because he had already accepted them as a belief. As Nick Fury thought this, a question rose in his mind. Could Hydra really have returned?

As Nick Fury pondered, Melinda continued, "There is a saying in my homeland: a centipede does not stop wriggling even after it dies. Hydra was so powerful back then that no one knew how many hidden branches it had left behind, nor how many contingency plans it had prepared. S.H.I.E.L.D. carried out a full-scale purge at the time, but could we truly ensure that every hidden asset had been removed?"

Nick Fury carefully considered Melinda's words. Hydra had been such a massive organization back then. It was impossible to say every single member had been captured without exception. These followers of Red Skull might very well be plotting to rebuild Hydra. So what exactly was Hydra like now? Was it merely an ordinary terrorist organization, or had it already recovered part of its former strength? It seemed they would have to capture some people and ask them.

However, it was Melinda's next words that cemented Nick Fury's decision to act immediately. "They found Evenson before we did, which means they may have intelligence channels more effective than ours. And they are clearly gathering Inhumans. I do not think we can wait any longer."

"Notify the operations team. Bring in every one of those punks. Do not let a single one slip away. Coulson, you will lead the team personally." Nick Fury spoke, then seemed to remember something. "Do not tell the operations team the real objective. They only need to know they are dealing with the Deadlock Gang, not anything else. Also, isolate everyone we bring back. Until further orders, no one is permitted to speak with them."

The Deadlock Gang's doomsday had finally arrived.