Baker's eyes narrowed slightly.
On March 21, 1991, the subject was Stark's security convoy?
It won't be what I have in mind.
Baker thought in his mind.
Perhaps on the original Earth, March 21st only represented an insignificant [International Day for the Elimination of Racial Discrimination] with an empty name.
But here, besides this [International Day for the Elimination of Racial Discrimination], March 21st represents another thing that happened.
In fact, the impact of this incident is far greater than that of the incident in Sharpeville, South Africa, on March 21, 1960, when the police shot and killed sixty-nine people participating in a peaceful demonstration against the apartheid [pass] law. Big.
The day when Howard Stark, the chairman of Stark Industries, and his wife Maria Stark were killed in a car accident due to brake failure.
Of course.
This is the official statement of the federal government. After all, on the same day, the security team originally responsible for protecting Howard Stark and his wife encountered a predator on the road. In order to leave as quickly as possible, the Starks left the security team alone on the road.
Then……
People died in the car accident.
"Is there a hint of a textile factory in this matter?"
Baker clicked on the document and frowned when he saw that the line about the client's information was written with (false identity).
Could it be him?
Baker thought about the incident in the restaurant where the computer was invaded as soon as he connected to the Internet, and then he thought about a person.
If it is that person, then his technology is indeed superior to that of computer genius Kevin Mitnick.
The Internet is his back garden, even, for him, the Internet is his home.
Dr. Arnim Zola of Hydra, who was loyal to Hydra during World War II, was later recruited by the Federation's "Project Paperclip", and then uploaded his consciousness to the Internet after suffering from cancer and gained an alternative form of immortality.
But……
This doesn't make sense.
Baker touched his chin. If it was really Hydra, there was no reason why the assassination of Howard Stark would require the help of a textile factory, because doing so would definitely cause complications.
Is it to frame the fault?
Baker thought of this possibility, and the more he thought about it, the more he felt that it was this, because if someone found out any clues in the future after using the textile factory, they would only focus on the textile factory. .
No one would doubt that on that day, at the same time, two different parties wanted to take the lives of Howard Stark and his wife.
As for why Dr. Zola wants to clear the data now?
He was always afraid that he already knew about Sloan's death. After all, Internet information is very developed these days, so after he knew that Sloan was dead, he monitored the Internet all the time. Once the characteristics of Sloan's notebook appeared online, he would You can know it immediately, and then quickly clear the data inside.
And this trick is very high, because no one could have imagined that a hacker's intrusion speed would be so fast. Even the notebook of the legendary hacker Kevin Mitnick could not stop Zola's intrusion.
only……
Zola probably never thought of the fact that Gwen had a backup.
Ha ha.
The corner of Baker's mouth curled up slightly, and he immediately found six pieces of information on his execution of the assassination. After clicking to delete, he breathed a sigh of relief.
The Hydra incident was a useless surprise, because even if Baker knew about it, he didn't think it would bring much benefit to him.
but……
Just because it's useless now doesn't mean it won't be useful in the future. As the saying goes, even a piece of straw paper has its uses.
so.
Baker did not choose to delete this information, but unplugged the mobile hard drive, then opened it with the tool on his hand and pointed it at the laptop.
The screen of the laptop suddenly became blurred. In less than three seconds, the screen instantly turned into a black screen, and then black smoke came out of the laptop.
…
The Queen.
"boom!"
"Bang bang!"
Three gunshots with silencers came from deep in an alley in Queens. A big Russian man stumbled backwards, clutching his throat. After hitting the wall, he fell down whimpering weakly.
Bang!
Wesley, who had just been pinched by the big Russian man with both hands, fell to the ground, opened his mouth wide, and coughed while his face was bruised and bloody.
"Farke."
"Shet."
"These people came out of nowhere."
Wesley turned over and fell to the ground, gasping for air as he stared at the big Russian man who was leaning against the wall with no breath and blood coming out of his throat like a small fountain. He felt angry and manic in his heart.
After a while.
Wesley's ears twitched slightly, listening to the footsteps not far away. He took a step forward, took out a magazine, a wallet and a mobile phone from the Russian man's arms, and then looked around. Then his eyes fell on a manhole cover not far away.
ten minutes later.
"call."
"Hoo, ho, ho!"
In the New York sewers, which are open to all directions and can even be lived in, Wesley sat aside and wiped the blood on his forehead with his palm to light up the mobile phone he had just taken out from the Russian man.
Enter the eyes.
[It’s three hours until Wesley Gibson’s wanted order takes effect. 】
Behind this border is a number that is counting down.
"Wortfalk."
Wesley's eyebrows jumped. He just destroyed a textile factory, where did this person come from?
Wesley wiped his sweat and exited the interface, wondering if he could find some useful clues from other aspects.
Subsequently.
Wesley saw the icon that looked like the exterior of the hotel.
Intercontinental Hotel?
What's this?
Wesley clicked it suspiciously, and then discovered that the interface where he had just announced his reward was the interface of the InterContinental Hotel APP.
Then Wesley noticed something else.
after an hour.
Wesley took out a hundred dollars from the Russian man's wallet and handed it to the taxi driver, then got out of the car and looked up at the iron-shaped building in front of him.
Intercontinental Hotel.
The InterContinental Hotel, located at the intersection of Broadway Avenue and Fifth Avenue, is a high-end hotel. It is a hotel that does not accept backpackers. If you are not a hotel member, you cannot enter the hotel.
The security guards on both sides of the hotel entrance glanced at Wesley who got out of the taxi, and then his eyes fell on the right side of Wesley's waist covered by his leather jacket.
The next second.
The two security guards looked away. Since the turn of the millennium, the number of assassins registered at the InterContinental Hotel has been enough to make it difficult to remember without a computer.
Yes.
The criteria for two security guards to judge whether they are members is very simple. It seems that someone has not robbed someone. Although these days, those who have guns are not necessarily assassins, but assassins must have guns.
Moreover.
If the person with the gun was not an assassin, even if he entered the hotel, he would be turned away by the front desk management.
Just when Wesley was about to step forward.
A black Honda stopped at the door. A security guard standing on the right suddenly took the black umbrella next to him and walked to the driver's door of the Honda.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Moulton."
"..."
