69: Chapter 69 Witness, Highway and the Darkness Before Dawn

4:00 AM, a quiet neighborhood near Stanford University.

Professor Linus Kroll stood by the living room window, watching the sleeping street outside. His suitcase was already packed—two days' worth of clothes, blood pressure medication, and that old briefcase filled with research notes. According to the plan, Hank's car should have arrived ten minutes ago.

"Grandpa, do we really have to go?" Eight-year-old granddaughter Emily stood at the top of the stairs, rubbing her eyes and clutching her teddy bear.

Kroll turned around, trying to make his voice sound relaxed: "We're just going to Nashville for a few days to see the Music City. Haven't you always wanted to attend a live concert?"

Emily nodded, but her eyes were still filled with confusion. She didn't know why they had to leave in the middle of the night, why her mother couldn't come with them, or why her grandfather's hands wouldn't stop shaking.

The doorbell rang. Kroll took a deep breath, confirmed it was Hank through the peephole, and opened the door.

"Professor, the car is outside," Hank said in a low voice, his gaze quickly sweeping across the room. "We need to hurry. Rex is waiting in the car."

Kroll took Emily's small hand and picked up the suitcase. Just as they walked toward the black SUV at the door, the curtains on the second floor of a house across the street moved slightly.

"Get down, get in the car." Hank's voice was suddenly tense.

Almost at the same time—Bang! Bang!

Two muffled gunshots tore through the silence of the early morning. The bullets struck the driver's side window of the SUV, and the bulletproof glass instantly filled with spiderweb-like cracks, but they didn't penetrate.

"Sniper!" Rex growled from the driver's seat and slammed on the gas. The SUV's tires screeched as it lunged out of the parking space.

A third bullet chased the rear of the car, striking the asphalt and sending sparks flying.

"Emily, get down!" Kroll pressed his granddaughter onto the floor of the back seat, shielding her with his body. The child was too terrified to cry; she just trembled violently.

Hank had already drawn his pistol but didn't return fire—the enemy was in the shadows, and returning fire would only reveal their position. "Rex, take the backup route!"

"Understood!"

The SUV sped through the residential streets. Rex's driving was purely military-grade: handbrake drifts on sharp turns, using intersection obstacles to block the sniper's line of sight, and frequent lane changes to make it difficult for the shooter to predict their path. The 2015 vehicle had no automated driving assistance; every turn, acceleration, and braking maneuver relied on the driver's split-second judgment and muscle memory.

"There's more than one of them," Hank said, staring at the rearview mirror. "Two o'clock, a silver sedan. It's been following us for three intersections."

"I see it." Rex jerked the steering wheel, turning into a narrow alley. "Hold on!"

The alley was only wide enough for one car, with residents' backyard fences on both sides. The SUV scraped past the fences, and the side mirror was sheared off with a "click." The silver sedan tried to follow, but its body was slightly wider; it hit a trash can on the side, and its speed dropped sharply.

"Lost them, for now." Rex glanced at the navigation. "Three kilometers to the highway. But they'll predict our route."

"Then take a route they can't predict." Hank pulled out a tablet and brought up a real-time traffic map. "Turn left at the second intersection ahead and enter the industrial park. The surveillance cameras there 'happened' to be under maintenance last night, and there are plenty of side roads."

"Understood."

At the same time, the Nashville farm villa.

Alex stood in front of the monitoring screen in the war room, watching the blurry footage transmitted from Professor Linus Kroll's watch camera—the bumpy interior view, the child's crying, and Hank's tense voice. His Spider-Sense had been in a state of high-frequency stinging since early morning, and now it felt like needles pricking him.

"Northrop Corporation has made their move," he said into the communicator. "It's not a legal maneuver; it's a direct attempt to silence them."

"Should we call the police?" Marcus asked nervously from the side.

"Calling the police will only complicate things—they'll demand that Kroll get out of the car for protection, which would give the sniper a clear target." Alex shook his head. "This is the professional MO of a PMC, the Guardians of Truth, or some new team they've hired."

He pulled up another monitoring window. It was the residence of Director Martin Green in the Nashville suburbs, and Attorney Lawson's car was parked at the street corner. According to the plan, Lawyer Lawson was supposed to arrive at 5:00 AM to confront Director Martin Green before he went to court—regarding the medical expenses and tuition paid by Northrop Corporation, and the fact that his wife was completely unaware of it.

But Alex's Spider-Sense was also stinging in that direction.

"Hank, what's the situation on your end?" he asked into the communicator.

"Lost one tail, but not sure if there are others." Hank's voice was accompanied by the roar of the engine. "Rex is heading for the backup route. The Professor and Emily are shaken, but they're okay."

"Listen," Alex said quickly. "Northrop Corporation might be targeting both witnesses at the same time. There's danger at Director Martin Green's end too. I'll have Attorney Lawson move up his schedule. You stick to the original plan and go to the second safe house; don't come directly to Nashville."

"Understood."

Alex hung up and immediately contacted Attorney Lawson: "Move up the schedule. Go to Director Martin Green's house now. There might be danger; take our people with you."

"Now? It's only 4:30 AM..."

"That's exactly when they'll be at their most relaxed," Alex said. "And if Northrop Corporation sent people to silence them, this is the time they'd act."

"Understood."

The industrial park was like a maze of steel. Abandoned factories, rusted pipes, and parking lots piled high with shipping containers cast eerie shadows in the pre-dawn twilight. Rex turned off the headlights, relying only on night vision and the faint moonlight to navigate the narrow passages.

"Turn right ahead, then go straight for 300 meters. There's a loading dock; we can use it to get onto another road." Hank looked at the satellite map on the tablet.

Just as the SUV was about to turn right, two blinding high beams suddenly lit up at the intersection ahead!

A heavy pickup truck blocked the road, completely sealing off the passage. Four people jumped out of the vehicle, all wearing dark tactical gear and carrying automatic weapons.

"Ambush!" Rex slammed on the brakes, and the SUV stopped twenty meters from the pickup.

Almost simultaneously, the sound of an engine came from behind—another vehicle had blocked their retreat.

Caught in a pincer attack with high factory walls on both sides, there was nowhere to run.

"Professor, take Emily and get under the seats. Don't look up no matter what happens." Hank's voice was abnormally calm. He checked his pistol magazine, then pulled a short-barreled shotgun from under the seat and handed it to Rex.

"Four in front, two in the back, possibly a sniper on the roof." Rex took the gun, his eyes quickly scanning the surroundings. "We can't force our way through; this car can't withstand rifle fire."

Hank looked at the factory building on the left: "There, that rolling shutter door, see it? The bottom half is rusted through. Can we ram it open?"

Rex assessed the distance and angle: "We can try, but we don't know what's inside once we break through."

"It's better than being a sitting duck here." Hank fastened his seatbelt again. "I'll count to three—"

Before he could finish, the armed men in front opened fire!

Bullets pelted the car like raindrops. The cracks in the bulletproof glass multiplied, and the rear window finally shattered with a "crash." Emily screamed.

"Now!" Rex slammed the car into reverse and hit the gas. The SUV shot backward a few meters, then instantly switched to drive, cranked the steering wheel to the left, and floored it toward the rusted rolling shutter door!

The roar of the impact was deafening.

The rolling shutter door was torn apart like paper. The SUV plunged into the dark interior of the factory, its headlights illuminating mountains of discarded machinery and tangled cables. Rex navigated between the obstacles by instinct; the car body scraped and collided constantly, but he didn't slow down.

Shouts and footsteps of the pursuers came from outside, but the interior structure of the factory was complex, and they didn't dare to rashly follow with their vehicles.

"Find the back door!" Hank shouted.

Rex jerked the steering wheel, whipping the rear of the car around a corner. The headlights illuminated a pair of rusted double iron doors—the door was locked, but the hinges were rotted through.

"Ram through it!"

The second impact. The iron doors collapsed with a crash, and the SUV surged out, returning to the outdoors. Ahead lay a narrow freight railway spur, with weeds growing on both sides of the tracks.

"Drive along the railway!" Hank looked at the map. "This line connects to a logistics center five kilometers away; there's a highway entrance there."

The SUV bumped along the gravel road beside the tracks. In the rearview mirror, the pursuers' headlights flickered at the factory exit, but the distance was increasing.

"Safe for now." Rex let out a sigh of relief, but the veins on his hands gripping the steering wheel were still bulging.

In the back seat, Professor Linus Kroll held the still-trembling Emily tightly, his face as pale as paper. "They really would kill us... they wouldn't even spare a child..."

"That's why they have to lose." Hank glanced at him in the rearview mirror. "Professor, you hold the things that can make them lose. That's why they're doing this."

Nashville suburbs, Director Martin Green's residence.

Just as Attorney Lawson's car stopped at the street corner, he saw another vehicle glide silently to the front of Director Martin Green's house. Two men in suits got out, their movements efficient and professional, not like ordinary visitors.

"That's them," Attorney Lawson said into the communicator in a low voice. "Alex Su, they arrived before us."

"Stop them," Alex Su's voice came back. "But don't get into a conflict; use legal means."

Attorney Lawson took a deep breath, opened the door, and got out. "Gentlemen!" He raised his voice and walked over. "I am the legal representative for Mr. Martin Green. May I ask what business you have?"

The two men turned around, their eyes wary. One of them spoke: "We are from the legal department of Northrop Corporation, here to deliver an important document to Mr. Martin Green."

"Delivering documents at 4:30 AM?" Attorney Lawson blocked the door. "And as far as I know, my client has no legal retainer relationship with Northrop Corporation. You can give the document to me, and I will pass it on."

"We need to deliver it to Mr. Martin Green personally."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible." Attorney Lawson flashed his attorney's credentials. "Without the explicit consent of my client, I have the right to refuse any non-emergency nighttime visitors. If you insist, I can call the police right now and let them determine if this constitutes harassment."

The two men exchanged a look. Their mission was ostensibly to "deliver documents," but in reality, it was likely to threaten or control Director Martin Green. But facing a formal attorney's obstruction, and in a residential area, the risk of forcing the issue was too great.

"Leave the document here." One of them placed an envelope on the doormat. "Make sure to pass it on. Also, tell Mr. Martin Green that Northrop Corporation takes his testimony in court tomorrow very seriously, and hopes he... makes a prudent statement."

The threatening tone was undisguised.

The two turned and left, got in their car, and drove away. Attorney Lawson watched the taillights disappear before picking up the envelope. He didn't open it—that was his client's privacy—but he could guess the contents: perhaps more money, or perhaps a more explicit threat.

He rang the doorbell.

Five minutes later, a bleary-eyed Director Martin Green opened the door. He was a man in his fifties with graying hair, wearing wrinkled pajamas. He looked confused when he saw the attorney. "Mr. Lawson? Wasn't it supposed to be 5:00?"

"The plan has changed." Attorney Lawson walked inside. "Mr. Martin Green, we need to talk. About Northrop Corporation, about your daughter's tuition, and... does your wife know the true source of this money?"

Director Martin Green's face instantly lost all color.

6:30 AM, the sky was just beginning to brighten.

Alex Su stood in the yard of the farm villa, watching the eastern sky fade from deep blue to orange-red. He hadn't slept all night, but his energy was still abundant—the effects of the physical enhancement were becoming increasingly obvious.

Hank's communication came through: "Arrived at the safe house. The Professor and Emily are safe. They need a few hours of rest."

"Protect them well. Court starts at 1:00 PM; leave at 11:00."

"Understood."

Attorney Lawson also sent a message: "Director Martin Green has confessed. Northrop Corporation paid all his medical expenses and three years of his daughter's law school tuition, totaling over $400,000. His wife was completely unaware of this and always thought it was a donation from a charity. I showed him the evidence and the stakes, and he agreed to withdraw his arrangement to commit perjury and is willing to explain the process of being bribed in court."

"And the cost?"

"He asks that we guarantee the safety of his family, and... not pursue the legal liabilities he may face."

"Agreed. Tell him that as long as he tells the truth, we will provide protection and strive for immunity for him within the scope of the law."

After handling these two lines, Alex Su returned to the war room. The system interface appeared automatically:

[Spider-Sense (Intermediate) Evolution Progress: 72%]

[Emotional Resonance Field (Intermediate) Evolution Progress: 51%]

[Information Chain Vision (Fragment) generated new association perception: The armed team pursuing Professor Linus Kroll has communication signal characteristics that overlap with the tracker frequency on a batch of 'lost' munitions intercepted at the Mexican border three months ago. The purchaser of that batch of munitions was registered as a shell company under 'Greystone International'.]

Greystone International. This name, which had disappeared for some time, had surfaced again. Northrop Corporation hadn't just utilized the Guardians of Truth; they had also called upon the resources of Greystone International. This meant they were truly desperate.

Alex Su opened a news website. The early morning shooting incident hadn't been reported yet—the Stanford community was sufficiently enclosed, and the police were likely still investigating the scene. But by morning at the latest, the news would spread.

He needed to respond in advance.

He logged onto social media and posted a simple tweet:

"The darkness before dawn is the deepest. But dawn will always come. See you in court this afternoon. #TruthIsNotSilent"

After sending it, he looked at the bottom of the system interface:

[Current Popularity: 3,250,000 points]

Today's courtroom showdown would be a key growth node.

If he won, his popularity could see explosive growth.

If he lost...

He didn't continue that line of thought. There was no "if he lost" option.

His phone vibrated; Taylor sent a message: "I'm on my way to court. Do you need me to say anything in the media zone?"

Alex Su replied: "Just tell the truth. Also, thank you."

"What for?"

"Thank you for standing here."

"I've always been here."

Alex Su put down his phone and checked the documents he needed to bring to court one last time.

In his leather briefcase, besides the legal documents, there were two other items: a copy of the metal cookie tin given by Professor Linus Kroll, and an encrypted tablet containing the entire data chain for the AR project.

These were not just evidence; they were weapons.

Outside the window, the sky was bright.

The morning sun pierced through the clouds, dyeing the rooftops of Nashville gold.

The silence before the storm had ended.

And court was about to be in session.