Black-Haired Internal Revenue Service SWAT Agent - Chapter 322



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Side story 28: Operation Assault

The air above was lit up as dozens of mini-gun flares flew by.

The two vans were stopped in the middle of the parking lot, right in front of the mansion, firing M134 miniguns mounted inside the vans.

One van opened fire on SUVs and pickup trucks parked on the left side of the parking lot, while the other opened fire on the right, and in an instant, the entire area was engulfed in flames.

The skinheads and Haims’ men were completely overwhelmed by the surprise attack of Lennox’s men without even firing a single shot.

Gunmen from both groups were knocked to the ground by 7.62mm Minigun rounds or fell to the ground after being hit by debris from exploding vehicles.

After that, debris from the exploding vehicles continued to fly above them.

In a brief burst of fire lasting less than a minute, over 20 members of the Army of God and Bloody Carat, as well as six vehicles, were completely destroyed.

Skinhead and Haims sat motionless on the sofa as they watched the red laser beams completely destroy people and vehicles.

Lennox, who had been standing in front of the window and showing the two the chaos outside the mansion, looked at them with his arms crossed.

In contrast to their expressions of astonishment, Lennox maintained an indifferent expression.

In the midst of the suffocating silence, his cell phone rang.

Lennox, who checked the caller ID, showed the phone to the skinhead and John Hymes.

Then he said to them,

“Our attempt to take out our anger by cutting off the head of the Air Enforcement Squad Viper (Agent Claire Shepherd) in New York was a complete failure, but we haven’t seen the real deal in this game yet. Let’s listen together and negotiate again.”

The two people, completely frozen, stared at Lennox without even blinking, let alone answering.

Lennox chuckled at their appearance, then answered the phone on speaker mode.

“Has there been any progress?”

The person on the other end of the line was David Crowley, his right-hand man and the man who had kidnapped Agent 0000 Mendez from Customs and Border Protection.

“He’s only just starting to open his mouth. He must have come to his senses only after pointing a gun at his own daughter’s head.”

“So, who has jurisdiction over the safe house our kids are hiding in? The US Marshal, the ATF, the FBI?”

When asked about the whereabouts of his men who were assisting the Customs and Border Protection investigation after being rescued from a smuggling plane crash, Crowley laughed and answered.

“Our hackers who used Mendez’s access codes to get into federal systems say it’s a CBP safe house. I don’t know if they’re still there, but the CBP agents at that safe house have been reporting in at regular intervals, so even if they move locations later, it should be possible to track them, Kyle.”

“If we move our kids to safe houses managed by the FBI or the Marshals Service instead of CBP, it’s going to be harder to get anything done. Hurry up.”

“All right.”

“Hey, David!”

“yes.”

“Use all the firepower you have.”

“Of course, Kyle.”

After finishing the call, Lennox looked back at the skinhead and Haims.

Then he shook his smartphone and said.

“If we can get rid of these rats who want to testify against us in federal court, we don’t have to close down our business, right? So let’s just wait and see this one more time, and if things don’t work out the way we want, let’s go back to what we left off today. I think you both agree.”

Skinhead and Haims exchanged glances, then nodded vaguely.

Then, when they turned their gazes to Lennox, Lennox nodded his head as if satisfied.

Lennox’s organization had a similar system to the military, but it was no match for these organizations in numbers.

So, Lennox needed these two organizations to sustain his smuggling operation, which had the full support of the Colombian and Mexican cartels.

Lennox needed the biker gang Bloody Carrots to distribute the drugs he brought in across the country, and the gunmen of God’s Army to faithfully carry out the process of storing and transporting the weapons and drugs.

Thanks to them, Lennox and his men were able to run this huge smuggling operation without being on the front lines of the business and avoiding the pursuit of law enforcement.

The name they shared for their grand organization, the “Coalition of Crusaders” against the rule and oppression of the federal government, was in fact nothing more than an empty slogan.

So, even in this time of crisis, Lennox was trying to maintain solidarity with them by any means necessary.

“Since all the vehicles that were supposed to take you have broken down, you will have to stay as guests at our ranch tonight. Although there is only a sofa as big as a Nimitz carrier, two people can sleep comfortably on it. I will be out for a moment to attend to other matters.”

Lennox said, striding toward the living room door.

Just before he opened the door and went out, he stopped walking as if remembering something.

Then he looked over his shoulder and spoke to the skinheads and John Haims.

“By the way, I respectfully tell you two, if you ever come into my house with a knife and a gun again, you will never leave the ranch alive. Remember that, boys.”

After saying this, Lennox left the living room, and shortly afterwards his men carrying machine guns entered the living room to watch the two men.

Located northeast of Orlando International Airport, the secure area contained three hangars for aircraft such as Gulfstream jets and helicopter pads.

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Except for the central hangar, which houses the federal agencies’ field situation rooms, the other two are dark and have their large doors closed.

Claire and I were standing in one of them, drinking coffee.

Claire doesn’t even notice her coffee getting cold because she’s on the phone with three or four CBP people here.

Soon, HRT members walk out of the hangar as the lights pour in brightly.

I raised my hand and shouted at one of them, my fellow agent and senior agent, Sam Dietz.

“Mr. Cheoljae!”

When I called him in Korean, his agents and Claire looked at me at the same time.

Agent Dietz walks towards me with a grin on his face.

Although we came on the same federal agency plane, the other team was so busy receiving the details of the interrogation of the FBI New York office’s suspects that we arrived at Orlando Airport without even saying goodbye.

“Mr. Kim Tae-sik said he retired, but he was shooting in downtown New York?”

I shook hands with him, who greeted me late, and answered.

“Who wouldn’t? I never dreamed that they would set off flash bangs and cause such a ruckus in the middle of downtown Manhattan, the first place I saw when I came to this country.”

Agent Dietz whispers to me as he looks at Claire, who is again absorbed in her phone conversation next to me.

“So, Agent Shepherd is Taeshik’s~.”

“yes that’s right.”

The two of us spoke in Korean, but Claire quickly shifted the phone to her left hand, as if she understood the conversation to some extent, and held out her right hand to Agent Dietz.

The two people greet each other with a light handshake.

I pointed to the hangar where the situation room was built with my chin and asked him.

“What’s the situation inside? It seems like the operation to secure the Man-Pads (portable surface-to-air missiles that infantrymen can launch) is a priority over the rescue operation for Agent Mendez and his family.”

Dietz takes something out of the compartment of his bulletproof plate carrier.

Then he put a couple of drops of what appeared to be artificial tears into his eyes and blinked them to moisten them, and I watched him in silence.

From what I can tell, he seems to be hesitating whether or not to answer my question.

Now that I’m not a federal agent, this isn’t a new thing.

However, he, the gunman and not the office sergeant, eventually answers me.

“Securing portable surface-to-air missiles is a top priority. It’s not an unarmed MQ-9 drone belonging to the Department of Homeland Security, but an Air Force MQ-9 drone equipped with Hellfire missiles that has departed here. I think the AH-64 Apache helicopters of the National Guard are also being discussed.”

As I nodded to that, Claire suddenly interrupted me, asking when the call was over.

“Agent Dietz, have you made any progress in preparing the rescue operation for our pilot’s (Mendez’s) family?”

Dietz answered, looking in the direction of the situation room.

“Our Blue Team has been tasked with rescuing Agent Mendez and his family, but that’s it. The FBI’s three branches are currently scrambling to locate them, but the situation of Agent Shepherd’s colleague (Agent Mendez) seems to be secondary.”

I said something to that effect.

“It’s all because of those fucking ATF kids? Isn’t it because they ended up taking the lead on this joint operation?”

When I got angry and raised my voice, Claire gently grabbed my arm.

After that, he speaks in a more genuine voice than before.

“Not necessarily, Kim.”

As I look at Claire, she reveals something we don’t know.

“There was a VIP visit scheduled at Port Canaveral, and right around that time, the Lennox missile issue broke out, and the Secret Service, the Pentagon, and the CIA were all turned upside down. So even though our CBP is receiving full support from the Department of Homeland Security, it seems like we’re not able to take the lead on this case.”

“Port Canaveral?”

In response to my question, Dietz explains instead of Claire.

“Mr. Taesik, there’s a US Space Force base inside the Kennedy Space Center nearby (a US space launch site built in 1962 and operated by NASA, currently operating as one of the SpaceX launch sites), and that’s Port Canaveral. Are you saying that a big shot of the government is having a picnic there, Agent Shepard?”

Claire weakly answers Dietz’s question.

“If the presidential security detail is deployed, isn’t it obvious who’s coming? Even if they’re a crazy white right-wing extremist group, they wouldn’t be able to shoot down the helicopter carrying the president or vice president, but the fact that a Russian-made man-pass suddenly appeared in Orlando right now is causing chaos for everyone.”

After saying that, the three of us stared silently toward the situation room hangar.

Five large SUVs, apparently from some federal agency, pull up and a crowd of people dressed in suits pour out.

Phew!

It would just be a one-time assault operation.

Why can’t we just do that one operation first?

A single ‘fucking’ assault could have rescued Mr. Mendez and his family, but things are only going to get worse.

Even the scale of this incident is growing as dirty as the acne on Sim Yu-jeong, the only daughter of the car center family.

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