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Chapter 84 The Suicide Squad's Attack
Chapter 84 The Suicide Squad's Attack
"Instructor Rick Flag will be with you on this mission. Remember, all of you must follow his orders and instructions."
Amanda Waller's serious voice rang out continuously, her sharp gaze slowly sweeping over the six figures present.
Despite her rough personality and stubbornness, she has always been a very pragmatic person.
She knew all too well that while the potential of these supervillains, who possessed a wide range of abilities, was incredibly high, their potential was equally shockingly low.
Without a battle-hardened captain to oversee the overall situation, they would be no different from a bunch of good-for-nothings.
They might not even reach the face of the death knell before they all perish on the way.
No, it's more likely they'll just go back to their own homes, or do something incomprehensible.
"From now on, your codename is Task Force, also known as the Suicide Squad."
During the mission, any act of desertion, disobedience, or hindering will, if Rick Flag reports it to me, detonate the micro-bombs planted on the back of your necks.
"With a 'bang,' just like a watermelon!"
Amanda Waller suddenly opened her clenched left fist.
"To put it bluntly, we're just disposable cannon fodder for you."
Death Shooter curled his lip.
As a former world-class top mercenary, he had heard of Deathstroke's reputation and knew how formidable he was.
Even with unified arrangements, the entire mission will definitely not go smoothly.
"This is doing something for the country!"
Amanda Waller said expressionlessly.
"Are you the devil?"
The plastic bomb scratched between its teeth.
"perhaps."
"I only have one question: after the mission is over, can you release me from prison? Don't turn around and lock me back in that iron cage."
Boomerang raised his hand.
You have no other choice.
Amanda Waller placed her hands on the table.
"In 10 minutes, a Hercules transport plane will take you to Gotham. If you're feeling adventurous, take care of that Penguin as well."
"Don't worry, I will definitely bring back every single one of their heads."
The bronze tiger narrowed its eyes and suddenly gritted its teeth as it spoke.
"You two seem to know each other?" Boomerang said casually. "Judging from your tone, did they steal your girlfriend?"
"Do you want to die?"
The bronze tiger's nostrils twitched rapidly, its chest heaving violently as it panted heavily, looking at the boomerang.
Boomerang's face paled instantly, and he instinctively took a half-step back: "I was just saying it offhand!"
The bronze tiger stared intently at him, its eyes as cold as blades.
He didn't steal it.
His voice was low and hoarse, each word dripping with blood.
"He killed her."
"Understood. I won't steal your kills if we fight."
Boomerang immediately backed down.
"This time."
"I'll kill him."
"Anyone who tries to stop them will die."
"Bronze Tiger said fiercely."
Gotham.
The sky was overcast, and a light drizzle was falling.
In a dark alley.
The wet streets were muddy and slippery.
Slade, dressed in a durable black tactical uniform, walked briskly through the alley.
After crossing a bustling street.
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He pushed open the door of the Iceberg Restaurant.
Inside the public lobby on the first floor.
The giant chandelier in the center emitted a faint blue-white cold light, and penguin and seal decorations were scattered everywhere in the corners.
In front of the red wine bar in the very center.
Men and women dressed in various exquisite suits were dancing to the music of a small jazz band. Waiters carrying trays full of champagne glasses moved among the VIPs. Slade glanced at them and then looked away, silently walking towards the second floor.
The second floor consists of several private rooms, not open to the public, and is a place where gang leaders and corrupt police officials conduct private transactions.
In the very center is the penguin's private box.
Strong and burly bodyguards stood guard outside the door, constantly observing the surroundings.
The moment Slade stepped forward, the bodyguards immediately stood at attention, their respect evident.
Slade nodded and pushed open the door to the private room.
inside the house.
Oswald, the undisputed uncrowned king of Gotham, held a slowly burning cigar in his hand, looking down at the entire first-floor lobby through the giant one-way glass in front of him.
"I like this feeling of being in control of everything," Oswald grinned morbidly.
Upon seeing Deathstroke approach, the Penguin's face hardened with wariness: "Mr. Wilson, is someone trying to harm me?"
The other party had made an agreement with him that they would only appear when he encountered danger or when danger was imminent.
Slade's voice was hoarse: "Have you heard of ARGUS?"
Under the shadow of his top hat, Oswald, holding a cigar, looked somewhat puzzled.
"ARGUS?"
Despite bearing the Copport family name, as an outcast, he grew up at the very bottom of Gotham's society, and even after becoming the king of Gotham's underworld, he knew very little about the outside world.
"A government agency that specializes in carrying out assassination missions."
I just received word that they've sent people to assassinate us.
Slade quickly said, "We don't know exactly who they sent yet, but the conflict will definitely spread to the Iceberg Restaurant."
"This place is crowded and conspicuous. You can immediately seal off the underground passage and evacuate in advance."
Oswald frowned and looked up at the lobby on the first floor.
He stroked the cigar between his fingers: "Mr. Wilson, if it's just an assassination organization, there's no need to worry."
"I have informants everywhere in Gotham now, and the Iceberg Restaurant's warehouse is stockpiled with weapons, with hundreds of thugs on standby. Add you to the mix, believe me, no matter how many they send, it won't be enough."
After this period of development, Penguin Gang has reached a new level.
Besides the rapid expansion of manpower and weaponry, Oswald believed there was another hidden trump card that even Slade Wilson was unaware of: Solomon.
The other party has now moved from the swamps on the outskirts of Gotham to the basement of the Iceberg Restaurant—
He specially built a private underground food court there, which can be used 24 hours a day without limits.
Slade paused for three seconds: "Just in case, we still need to have a backup plan."
Oswald, of course, had no objections.
Although he was arrogant, he was even more afraid of death.
"Pass down the notice: we're closing today. To express our apologies, all purchases will be waived."
Oswald snapped his fingers.
A bodyguard immediately took the order and went to carry it out.
"I never imagined that the renowned Mr. Oswald would have such a kind side."
Slade was somewhat surprised.
He originally thought the other party would use those guests as human shields.
The Penguin chuckled lightly, his tone calm yet shrewd: "I'm a businessman. I won't do a losing business that damages my own business and offends all the powerful figures in the city. If blood were to flow on the spot, no politician or gangster would ever dare to set foot in Iceberg Restaurant again. The loss would be far greater than driving away a group of customers."
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After half an hour.
A C400 Hercules transport plane arrived over Gotham.
The suicide squad jumped one by one from the airdrop ramp at the rear of the plane. The low-altitude parachutes suddenly opened in the fine rain and mist, and dark figures swooped down towards the city's towering buildings.
Rick Flag landed first, quickly packed up his parachute, and gestured for everyone to assemble on the spot.
To his dismay, the boomerang landed and immediately ripped off his parachute, squatted by the roadside, and rummaged through his pockets, preoccupied with counting the various boomerangs he carried.
Bronze Tiger stood alone to one side, his gaze somber as he looked at Gotham through the rain, completely ignoring his rallying gestures.
The Death Shooter leaned against a lamppost, slowly inspecting his weapons.
They completely disregarded their own orders.
While he wasn't paying attention, the Shark King secretly opened its blood-red maw at the plastic bomb.
"Shit, what are you doing?" Rick Flag yelled.
The shark king immediately retracted its massive mouth and rubbed its belly: "I'm hungry."
Rick Flag, his face dark, pulled out a portable tactical tablet from his chest.
The screen displayed location information transmitted back by the ARGUS satellite, eventually settling on a restaurant called Iceberg.
According to the information he had gathered beforehand, that area belonged to the people who employed the Deathstroke.
As a special forces instructor with extensive combat experience, Rick Flag immediately realized from this point alone that there was a high probability that their whereabouts had been exposed.
Rick Flag frowned slightly.
As expected of someone who participated in the Vietnam War and rose through the ranks from ordinary soldier to major, his counter-reconnaissance methods and intuition are virtually unbeatable.
This put him in a difficult position.
Especially leading such a group of lunatics, idiots, scumbags, and time bombs.
The difficulty level is multiplied by ten.
However, he knew why Amanda Waller insisted on sending these people to carry out this mission.
First of all, Deathstroke is very powerful, which can be clearly seen in the research bureau's database.
In addition, the other party had participated in the super serum experiment and successfully survived to the end. Their flesh and blood could withstand bullet bombardment, and their recovery ability and explosive power far exceeded those of ordinary people.
At the same time, Slade also possesses extremely rich combat experience and fighting skills. Unless the entire army is mobilized, any number of agents who come will be courting death.
But that is clearly impossible.
Although this group is terrible at tactical execution, they all possess superhuman abilities to take on significant responsibilities.
When firepower is roughly equal, only superhumans can fight against superhumans.
"Boss, what should we do now? Should we just storm into this 'Iceberg Restaurant'?"
Boomerang slung his backpack over his shoulder and glanced at the tactical tablet in Rick Flag's hand.
Rick Flag was silent for two seconds.
Looking at the map, the Iceberg Restaurant is surrounded by almost no blind spots, with only a few alleys, but he didn't think it was a suitable ambush point without alerting the enemy.
On his way here, he made a point of learning about Oswald using the information database.
Oswald Copport, nicknamed the Penguin.
The fact that he rose step by step from the bottom of Gotham to become the uncrowned king of Gotham is enough to show that he is a very shrewd and calculating person.
As for this Iceberg Restaurant, it appears to be an entertainment establishment, but in reality, it should be the other party's headquarters.
Without a doubt, there were definitely ambushes prepared all around in advance.
If you charge straight in recklessly, you're likely to get into trouble.
Thinking this, Rick Flag looked at the shark-man who was drawing circles on the ground.
"According to the information provided by Ms. Waller, Shark King, your skin can withstand impacts like bullets?"
The shark-man nodded, then patted his stomach: "Hungry."
"Alright, let me explain the arrangements." Rick Flag clapped his hands, ignoring the last word "0" from the Sharkman.
"Shark King, you go first. Draw the patrol's fire from the front. Don't try to kill anyone, just hold them off and buy us time to infiltrate. Understand?"
Rick Flag emphasized this point.
The Shark King nodded, seemingly understanding, "Is there meat to eat?"
Rick Flag sighed and pulled the last steak from his bag, tossing it to the other man.
Then, he looked at the boomerang beside him: "Boomerang, your dart-throwing skills are impeccable. You're responsible for hiding in the shadows. Remember, if you see someone calling for backup, interrupt them with your dart. At the same time, you can also secretly help the sharkman."
"Once the situation inside is completely chaotic, Deathshooter, Bronze Tiger, and I will find a chance to sneak in."
Rick shifted his gaze to the Bronze Tiger, who had been silent the entire time and whose aura of ferocity was almost overflowing. His tone was serious: "Your target is only Slade Wilson, but remember, you must wait until we have completed the encirclement before you make your move."
"I will try my best." Bronze Tiger gave a cruel smile, offering an ambiguous answer.
Over Gotham.
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The rain was getting heavier and showed no signs of stopping.
The smell of some kind of industrial chemicals in the air grew stronger.
"boom!"
A bolt of lightning struck from the dark clouds, illuminating the Iceberg Restaurant.
Under Oswald's orders, armed penguin gang henchmen patrolled everywhere.
Just then, a low, muffled sound rang out from afar.
Under the cover of night, it looked as if a giant beast was charging at breakneck speed.
The penguin henchmen on patrol immediately went on alert.
"There's movement over there."
The voices of the henchmen rose and fell in waves.
They all raised their pistols and fired wildly at a dark figure in the night.
"Bang bang bang—"
Gunshots rang out in the rainy night, bullets pounding the Shark King's thick gray skin, only producing sparks and leaving not even a shallow mark.
The Shark King felt no pain whatsoever, his scarlet eyes fixed on the henchman holding the gun, and he made a low, fierce snorting sound.
It moved incredibly fast, bursting out of the darkness like a cannonball in just a few strides.
With a hand as big as a palm fan, he grabbed one of the henchmen's rifles and twisted and deformed the gun with a slight force.
"Ah, there's a monster!"
Upon seeing a giant shark standing upright like a human, wearing only underwear and with a mouthful of sharp teeth, the henchman's eyes widened, and he let out a miserable scream.
The remaining dozen or so patrol thugs gathered around upon hearing the noise. Although they were afraid, they instinctively pulled the triggers in their hands.
Submachine guns, shotguns, and pistols all opened fire, unleashing a dense hail of bullets upon the shark-man.
Shark King charged forward headlong, smashing the heavy door of the Iceberg Restaurant into pieces. Wood chips mixed with rainwater flew everywhere and crashed straight into the restaurant's front hall.
With a casual wave of his hand, he cleared away the tables and chairs blocking his way, knocking away the two thugs standing in his path. Shark King crashed heavily onto the bar counter.
The pervasive stench of blood in the air made its eyes turn bloodshot, causing it to lose its senses completely.
Its gaping maw opened like a pelican's, and without even chewing, it swallowed one of the screaming henchmen next to it whole.
Oswald and Slade did not witness this.
They had already moved to the underground chamber through a secret passage.
Deathstroke changed into his special combat suit and surveyed the vast underground space.
"Mr. Oswald, did you hollow out the entire space under the Iceberg Restaurant?" he asked, somewhat puzzled.
"No, it's that several streets nearby have been dug up. It's a huge project," the Penguin shook his head and corrected.
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