novelinnhs Chapter 204 Rainy Night Ambush, Physical Defenses Outside the Screening Room
Chapter 204 Rainy Night Ambush, Physical Defenses Outside the Screening Room
The cold rain in Milan pounded against the glass exterior of the Cinema Arlecchino, the water trickling over the neon lights, turning the whole street into a shimmering dark red and dark blue.
11:40 PM.
The lights in the cinema lobby were all off, and only a few dim emergency wall lamps at the end of the corridor illuminated the building's outline intermittently.
On the second floor, in the screening room.
The laptop on Su Wan's lap was the only source of light in the room.
Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she quickly adjusted several guaranteed revenue-sharing contracts based on the different bottom lines of various publishers.
The sound of keyboards clicking away mingled with the clanging of film as it passed through the gears of the projector.
Chen Yan, wearing monitoring headphones, stared at the audio track waveform and made a final round of fine-tuning.
Neither of them spoke. The only sounds in the cramped little room were the soft hum of the machine running, the sound of rain seeping in through the walls, and the dampness clinging to the glass.
Wu Gang is not in the screening room.
He leaned against the wall at the entrance of the spiral staircase on the second floor, his eyes closed, half of his body shrouded in shadow.
This is the only passageway to the screening room; the stairs are so narrow that only two people can pass side by side.
Outside the cinema, in the shadows across the street.
A black Fiat sedan was parked in the rain. Wang, the comprador, rolled down the window halfway and lit a cigarette.
The cigarette butt flickered in the night.
His gaze was fixed on the dark alleyway to the side of the cinema, a cigarette between his fingers, which he hesitated to bring to his lips.
Midnight.
Deep in the alley, four dark figures appeared, close to the wall.
The man in the lead pulled out hydraulic shears from his pocket and aimed them at the rusty iron lock in the employee passage.
The soft sound of metal breaking was muffled by the sound of rain at the bottom of the alley.
The iron chain slipped and fell to the ground.
The man pushed open the heavy iron door, and the four of them filed in, disappearing into the darkness of the first-floor corridor in the blink of an eye.
They put on night vision goggles, avoided the infrared alarms, and crept along the wall towards the spiral staircase on the second floor.
The last person walked with one hand always in his pocket, his palm tightly clutching two cold plastic bottles.
Second floor stairwell.
Wu Gang opened his eyes.
He didn't hear footsteps.
But the air in the stairwell moved.
A gust of cold wind, carrying the fishy smell of rain, swept up from the first floor, brushing against the wall and sneaking past his trouser legs.
Wu Gang straightened up.
He glanced back at the closed door of the screening room; Chen Yan was still inside.
The next second, he looked away and walked towards the fire equipment box at the corner of the stairs.
He opened the glass door, but instead of touching the fire axe, he pulled out the eight-kilogram dry powder fire extinguisher.
After weighing it in one hand, he used his right thumb to pull out the safety pin.
After doing all this, he pulled out the heavy metal tripod used by the photographer and placed it horizontally in the only way to get around the corner of the stairs.
He then took two steps back and stood back in the shadows of the corner.
Below the stairs, four green outlines are moving rapidly upwards.
The man in the lead had just turned the corner when his shin slammed solidly into the cold metal pipe.
It's that tripod.
He lost his balance and fell forward.
Just as he braced himself with his left hand on the ground, trying to steady himself, the sound of high-pressure gas jets shattered the silence of the stairwell.
Wu Gang pressed the handle of the fire extinguisher.
A large amount of white dry powder gushed out, instantly engulfing the entire narrow staircase.
The image inside the night vision goggles was completely filled with white, and nothing could be seen.
Coughing continued as the dry powder choked him in his throat and lungs, causing a burning, suffocating sensation.
Wu Gang moved.
Instead of throwing away the fire extinguisher, he used the force of the downward spurt to swing the eight-kilogram iron can as a hammer, smashing it into the second man's chest.
The metal can struck the sternum with a dull thud that sent shivers down one's spine.
The man's chest caved in, and he flew backward, knocking over his companion behind him. The two rolled together and fell down the steps.
The leader's vision was filled with white powder, and he could only rely on his memory to stab the short knife in the spot where Wu Gang had just stood.
Wu Gang dodged to the side, the blade grazing his jacket and cutting a gash.
His right hand reached out and gripped the other man's wrist, which was holding the knife, like an iron clamp.
Instead of disarming him, he used his left foot as a pivot, simultaneously engaging his waist and abdomen to twist his body to the right.
The cracking sound of a dislocated wrist bone echoed clearly and jarringly in the stairwell.
The man, in pain, released his grip, and the dagger fell to the ground.
Before he could even utter a sound, Wu Gang's left elbow slammed into his chin from below.
The man's head snapped back, his vision went black, and he collapsed to the ground.
Five seconds later, three people were rendered unable to fight.
Only one left.
The man carrying the nitric acid was so frightened that he took several steps back to the bottom of the stairs. He ripped off his night vision goggles, pulled out a silenced pistol, and started firing wildly at the dusty staircase.
The muffled gunshots were mostly swallowed up by the wall; the bullets struck the concrete wall, scattering debris everywhere.
Wu Gang did not back down. He kicked aside the person blocking his way and jumped down the stairs.
A bullet grazed his shoulder, leaving a trail of blood.
The moment he landed, he grabbed the other man's wrist holding the gun with his left hand, raised it upwards, and the muzzle immediately pointed at the ceiling.
The right knee then rammed into the man's lower abdomen.
The man bent over in pain, only muffled breaths coming from his mouth.
Wu Gang released his wrists, grabbed his head with both hands, and pressed it down.
The raised right knee slammed upwards again.
The dull thud of a knee hitting the bridge of the nose echoed against the corner of the wall.
The man fell backward and remained motionless.
The two plastic bottles rolled out of his pocket and stopped in the corner.
Wu Gang stood there catching his breath; the rain stung the wound on his shoulder, making it burn.
He walked over, picked up the two bottles, and after seeing the skull and crossbones symbol on the bottles, his eyelids drooped.
Across the street, inside a Fiat.
Wang, the comprador, glanced at his watch; it was 12:10.
Ten minutes passed, and there was no fire, no alarm, and no one rushed out of the theater.
His hand, holding the cigarette, froze in mid-air, his fingertips burning from the ash.
problem occurs.
Wang, the comprador, threw away his cigarette butt, put the car in reverse, and prepared to leave.
Before I even stepped on the gas, the driver's side window shattered into a spiderweb pattern with a loud crash.
A hand reached through the shattered glass and grabbed his collar.
Wang, the comprador, changed his expression drastically and immediately reached for the knife at his waist with his right hand.
But the strength of that hand was unreasonable and brutal; its arm muscles tensed, and it dragged half of his body out of the broken car window.
His ribs grazed the metal frame at the bottom of the car window, causing him to let out a muffled groan in pain.
Wang, the comprador, was dragged out of the car, kicked in the back of the knee, and forced to kneel in the cold, stagnant water.
Wu Gang tied his hands behind his back and pressed his knee against his back.
"Behave yourself."
Only then did Wang, the comprador, realize that the man behind him was bleeding from his shoulder, with blood dripping down his sleeve.
The main entrance to the cinema is open.
Chen Yan, carrying a black umbrella, walked down the steps, his leather shoes stepping into a puddle and splashing up a cloud of murky water.
He stopped in front of Wang, the comprador, and looked down at the face that had smashed his studio in his previous life.
Chen Yan didn't speak, but reached into Wang's pocket and pulled out an old Motorola phone.
Looking through the call log, the top entry is a domestic number without a name.
Chen Yan pressed the dial button.
The phone rang three times before being answered.
The receiver carried the melodious sounds of traditional Chinese opera, along with a hoarse male voice.
"Is it all done?"
Chen Yan's face was hidden in the shadow of the umbrella.
"President Lu."
His voice cut through the rain and landed on the other end of the receiver, "The rain in Milan is heavy. I'm afraid your people won't be able to return."
The other end of the phone went quiet.
A dozen seconds later, Lu Haiming's voice came again, his words so slow that they made one's back tense.
"Chen Yan. You think that once we leave Tianjin, I can't touch you?"
"You can't move."
Chen Yan's gaze passed through the rain and looked towards the end of the street.
"Tomorrow morning at 10 a.m., buyers all over the world will see how you made your fortune in Tianjin."
Chen Yan hung up the phone and threw it into the puddle in front of Wang the comprador.
He turned and walked towards the cinema.
"Wu Gang, hand him over to the police."
Chen Yan's voice came from under the umbrella, "Tell them this is a terrorist attack targeting the international film festival."
As soon as he finished speaking, the sound of police sirens grew louder and louder, piercing the rainy night in Milan.