There will be more later Back in time, around 11 o'clock on Christmas Eve, on Interstate 15 from Idaho to Montana, it was quiet and without a trace of people.
After a while, an Idaho State Patrol trooper drove up.
There was a young security policeman in the car.
He drove the police car off the road and stopped on the flat snow-covered Gobi desert on the right.
With the reflection of the snow on both sides of the road, he began to enjoy his Christmas Eve snack alone. .
On the car radio, a lively and joyful Christmas blessing song was sung.
But our police officer couldn't be happy.
Instead, he was moved by the scene and burst into tears while eating the still-warm beef tenderloin and mashed potatoes.
"Damn, I should be on the warm sofa at this moment, enjoying a glass of red wine served by my girlfriend.
It may be inferior, but it's still red wine, isn't it?
Even though I don't have a girlfriend, is it my fault that I don't have a girlfriend?"
The aggrieved policeman took a sip of the bitter coffee in his hand and secretly cursed the damn businessman for not being willing to add sugar.
Then, acting like a petty man, he kicked something and uttered various curses and complaints.
"Oh my god, why am I asked to do this damn Christmas Eve duty?
Can I find a girlfriend when I'm on duty?
Fuck, why didn't I invite Manli to have dinner or a romantic movie?
I heard that this is how they find each other."
Girlfriend’s” He glanced out the car window.
Even though there was reflection from the white snow, it was still dark.
Loneliness and a touch of fear were eroding him.
He was a little cold.
He tightened his police cotton jacket tightly and continued to enjoy the late-night snack that was about to get cold.
"Not even a ghost" Another minute passed, and suddenly, a rapid roar came, but before he could react, it disappeared along the road into the distance.
He was stunned for a moment with his mouth open, and after a few seconds, he stuck his head out of the car to look around, but unfortunately he couldn't see anything.
"Bah, bah" He looked like he had seen a ghost.
After thinking for two seconds, he finally connected to the police station's radio and scooped out another spoonful of mashed potatoes.
"This is Benjamin.
There was a fighter jet flying close to the road just now, showing off its ultra-low-altitude flying skills, and it didn't even turn on the lights.
Maybe we should issue a summons to the driver, but I don't know the license plate of the fighter jet."
"Damn it, do you think this joke is funny?
Benjamin, if you want to strike up a conversation, don't choose it during working hours, okay?
And please find a better topic."
The operator opposite was a girl with a nice voice, but it was obvious that she regarded poor Benjamin's work report as a very substandard conversation.
She hated people who dealt with personal matters during working hours.
Benjamin put down the radio that had been turned off by the other party, smacked his lips, and continued to eat his mashed potatoes, thinking aggrievedly: There really was a fighter jet just now.
But he quickly thought of another thing: Manli was also on duty on Christmas Eve.
Damn it, if I had known earlier, I should have been brave enough to invite her, so that she would not be assigned to duty on this most important holiday in the name of "bachelor".
Yes, this operator is Manli.
Unfortunately, Benjamin hasn't realized it yet.
Because of his "neglect of duty" during working hours and his poor "picking up", he may have been blacklisted by the beautiful Manli.
It can’t be called an injustice, because the thing that whizzed by just now and couldn’t even see a shadow was really not an ultra-low-flying fighter jet.
Although it was incredibly fast, it was indeed a sports car.
It was a Vengt, a top-end heavy-duty supercar with only three units in the world, with a peak speed of 600 kilometers per hour.
Of course, it only lasts a few seconds.
But its smooth driving speed exceeds 400 kilometers per hour.
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Among the mass-produced models, no modern car can match it.
Just a week ago, this car was stolen by unknown armed men when it was on display in Dubai.
Unexpectedly, it appeared in the heart of the United States at this moment.
Just ten minutes ago, the driver of the car turned off the lights and used his unparalleled speed to escape the FBI helicopter's aerial pursuit.
Now we are taking advantage of the darkness and roaring all the way towards Augusta.
The camera zooms in, and you can see that the driver is a middle-aged man in his forties with a great figure.
He wears a well-fitted suit without a tie, but wears a black shirt with a stand-up collar under the suit jacket.
He has a Russian face with a sad beard.
And his long flowing hair made him look even more chic.
The co-pilot was a white beauty with long brown hair, wearing a black women's suit, which not only showed off her figure, but also looked elite and capable.
Being with a handsome man and a cool sports car feels a bit like a couple racing in pursuit of excitement.
But unfortunately, the beauty's right hand was handcuffed to the car door handle, which showed that the relationship between the two was not as harmonious as it seemed at the moment.
"Gabriel, you can't escape from this country in the United States.
If we let you run away, what kind of face will our FBI have?"
The beauty shouted to the charismatic driver, Gabri.
Maybe the speed of 400 kilometers per hour at this moment made her feel uneasy, so she spoke with a hint of ridicule, swallowing secretly, biting her lips, and holding tightly on the safety armrest of the car door with her right hand.
Gabri smiled slightly, not deliberately, but his charming charm was displayed all the time.
Even the beautiful FBI agent was a little envious for a moment.
"You FBI haha, beautiful Ms.
Rowling, are you still FBI?"
Maybe it was because he was arrogant about the captive, or maybe it was for other reasons.
Gabri smiled mockingly, glanced at Agent Rowling, and continued to focus on driving.
Luo Lin pursed her lips, but her expression remained unchanged in response to his ridicule.
Gabri smiled slightly, stopped teasing her, and said confidently: "Okay, even if you are still a great FBI agent who protects the honor of the United States, can you really stop me?
I seem to have just escaped from the FBI's top-secret escort in the field. " "But if you want to cross the border and enter Canada, at this speed, you have to travel for at least four hours.
This time is enough for the FBI to catch up, not to mention the local police along the way."
Perhaps because of the conflict between good and evil, Rowling still did not think highly of him, and finally emphasized: "You can't escape."
It's a bit like a warning, but from the last sentence, you can faintly hear a hint of worry, a very strange tone.
"Haha, you better pray that I can successfully enter Canada, otherwise you will also be punished by God."
After saying that, Gabri ignored Rowling and increased the speed that was already over 400 kilometers per hour.
This move seemed like he was desperate for his life, but Gabri behaved in a normal way.
He didn’t know how many lives and deaths this guy had experienced.
In other words, who is this guy?
And why were they secretly escorted and hunted by the FBI?
At this moment, several police cars were crossing the road more than ten kilometers away in the direction Gabriel and Rowling were heading.
As you get closer, you can see some police officers of different ages, holding pistols and other firearms, nervously on guard in the direction of the heavy supercar.
Suddenly, the cell phone rang.
After a moment of hesitation, the bearded bald sergeant answered the call.
"Hey, Sheriff, listen, I'm Banister from the FBI.
I don't care if you're under my jurisdiction or not, but I'm warning you now, cancel your stupid interception immediately.
Damn it, he's not something you can deal with."
When the call was connected, there was a roar, and the tone was anxious and persuasive.
Perhaps after several such incidents, the FBI agent who called himself Banister on the phone seemed a little angry, but more importantly, he was still unable to cope with the casualties of his own personnel
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