Bang!
The gunshot rang out without any warning.
Murphy instinctively turned his head. Just a few feet away, his burly driver collapsed to the ground. The female reporter, who had been taking photos moments before, now had a small handgun in her hand, with the tiny barrel pointed directly at him.
Without thinking, Murphy immediately pressed a button on his watch.
"Don't move!" A cold female voice commanded.
From the corner of his eye, Murphy glanced at the Rolls-Royce Phantom about ten feet away. He silently calculated the distance between himself and the female gunman. They were no more than forty feet apart. At this range, if the gunman had any training, there was a high likelihood she could hit him.
"Don't move!" The icy voice repeated. "Raise your hands."
There was no cover, and the distance wasn't far. Murphy didn't hesitate and slowly raised his hands. He glanced at his driver lying on the ground, blood already pooling around him, carried by the sea breeze. The smell of blood reached Murphy's nose.
Ruthless!
Murphy quickly concluded this was the situation and understood it was best not to move.
This wasn't a movie. He couldn't outrun a bullet. At this range, even a single shot could kill him or leave him critically injured.
"You, come here!" The female gunman motioned with her head. Her face was hidden by the brim of her hat, making it hard for Murphy to see her expression.
For some reason, Murphy felt a sense of familiarity.
He knew that in this situation, he shouldn't provoke her. Following her instructions, he took a step forward.
"Slower!"
The female gunman issued another command, and Murphy complied.
Given she had already killed without hesitation, she likely wouldn't hesitate to kill again.
During his time in prison, Murphy had encountered some truly dangerous individuals. He understood people who were willing to kill without remorse.
"What do you want?" Murphy moved slowly, trying to avoid provoking her. "Money? A car? A story? You can have whatever you want..."
"I want nothing!" The female gunman's voice was even colder. "I just want you dead!"
Hearing this, Murphy was shocked, but he remained calm.
Even so, his heart sank. If she was serious, this was the worst-case scenario!
She wanted him dead?
Murphy's mind raced, and within a second, he considered numerous people or groups who might want him dead.
The Catholic Church hiring a hitman? The Douglas family seeking revenge? Leonardo DiCaprio wanting to vent his anger...
It seemed that in the decade he had been active, he had made many friends and enemies.
But who would want to destroy him physically?
Murphy slowly approached the female gunman and finally saw her face clearly—a white woman who looked familiar.
"It's you?" He was more surprised than when she had pointed a gun at him.
In less than half a second, Murphy remembered who this woman was!
"This can't be real!" Murphy immediately felt an inexplicable sense of chaos. "She's supposed to be my die-hard fan!"
Cold sweat began to form on his forehead.
The name John Lennon popped into his mind.
"Daisy..." Murphy called out her name. Before he could say another word, she interrupted, "Move five feet to my side and get into my car's driver's seat."
She warned, "If you make any move towards me, I will shoot!"
The corpse on the ground and Murphy's relatively calm mind told him she was serious.
Daisy continued, "Don't worry, I won't kill you. I'll shoot your leg!"
Murphy tried to sound confused, "Why are you doing this?"
"Traitor!" Daisy responded angrily. "I won't let you die so easily!"
"Calm down! Calm down!" Murphy saw a future more tragic than John Lennon's. "Daisy, we used to be friends..."
"Who's your friend! Traitor!" Daisy's hand holding the gun was steady, and Murphy saw no opportunity. He raised his hands higher and continued, "Why do you call me a traitor?"
To resolve the situation, he needed to understand what was going on. She couldn't want to kill him without reason.
"You'll find out soon enough!" Daisy's voice was as cold as ice. "Move!"
Despite knowing he could easily overpower her, modern firearms made that irrelevant. Murphy, under the threat of a gun, complied, slowly moving forward. It would be foolish to try something out of a movie.
What use are martial arts or wrestling championships against a bullet?
"Throw away your phone, watch, and wallet!" Daisy commanded.
Murphy obeyed, discarding his items. At her demand, he also removed his coat and turned out all his pockets.
As a director who had filmed countless action scenes, Murphy knew that those so-called fighting experts were nothing compared to a gun.
So, under the gun's threat, Murphy obediently got into the driver's seat of the car and, following Daisy's instructions, started the engine and slowly drove away.
Even someone as strong and composed as Murphy felt some fear and panic. These were the most normal human emotions. Though he had a tough mental constitution, he wasn't superhuman.
Murphy understood that since she hadn't shot immediately but had no qualms about killing, it was best not to provoke her. It was crucial to find a way out patiently.
Especially since he had activated the alarm on his watch when the gunshot rang out. Though his driver and the bodyguard might be dead, the bodyguards at Wave Manor would receive the signal and come as quickly as possible.
Survival was now the priority.
In the face of mortal danger, Murphy struggled to remain calm to avoid making any rash decisions.
Daisy sat in the back seat, her hand steady from over a year of practice. Though she had resolved not to let the traitor die easily, if he made a wrong move, she wouldn't hesitate to shoot him.
"Turn left..." she directed, issuing a stream of commands. "Head to 7th Street."
The old Ford car passed the blood-soaked driver, overtook the black Rolls-Royce Phantom, and drove south.
At the wheel, Murphy remained calm, waiting for an opportunity. If no opportunity presented itself, he would wait. Once his bodyguards received the alarm, they would arrive quickly. One of them was a tracker with experience from the Iraq War.
As long as she didn't kill him immediately, his chances of survival were high.
Daisy sat there, one hand on the gun and the other on the front seat, looking extremely cold. Murphy couldn't see the excitement in her blue eyes.
How should she deal with this traitor? The thought kept running through Daisy's mind.
A quick death would be the worst choice. After waiting for a year, she had finally achieved this result. She had to ensure he received the punishment a traitor deserved.
The name "Saw" popped into Daisy's mind.
With that thought, a slight smile appeared on her cold face. She told Murphy, "Get on the highway, head to Long Beach!"
She had scouted an abandoned steel factory in Long Beach, an almost deserted place perfect for her plans.
As Murphy was forced onto the highway to Long Beach, a Mercedes SUV arrived at the scene of the murder. Lawyer Robert jumped out, carefully inspected the body, and called the police. Then he called Gal Gadot.
"Murphy's alarm went off..." Gal Gadot's voice was urgent. "The bodyguards are on their way, and I've called the police."
After hanging up, Robert got back into his car to avoid disturbing the scene. About ten minutes later, a police car with flashing lights arrived. Two officers got out, and shortly after, the sound of engines roaring signaled the arrival of a black SUV. Ten burly men emerged.
The leader approached Robert, clearly recognizing him.
One officer stood by the body, radioing for backup, while the other approached Robert, asking for details.
The bodyguards ignored the police, walking over to where Murphy had discarded his items, spotting the watch...
Another car roared up, a red sports car. Gal Gadot and Margot Robbie jumped out, and Gal Gadot ran over, tears streaming down her face as she saw the body.
"Damn!" She was frantic. "Damn it! Where's Murphy... Where's Murphy?"
Tears streaming, she was on the verge of breaking down.
"Folks..." one officer reminded them, "Please step back and avoid contaminating the scene!"
"Calm down, Gal!" Robert immediately approached her. "There's no sign of Murphy here, and that's good."
The head bodyguard also came over, speaking softly, "Mr. Stanton might have been kidnapped, but he should be alive."
Hearing this, Gal Gadot forced herself to calm down. Nothing was more important than her fiancé's safety.
"Whether they want money or something else..." Gal Gadot told the bodyguards, "We can give it! Just ensure Murphy's safety!"
More sirens wailed, and a larger contingent of LAPD officers arrived at the scene.
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