Chapter 220: The New York Parade and the Bank Robbery

"What's going on?"

Martin sat in the car, watching the news vans, police cars, ambulances, and fire trucks whiz by, sensing that something was wrong.

He quickly made a phone call to a media friend.

"What? A Black parade? Heading toward Central Park?"

Damn it!

"Gordon, speed up, don't worry about the tickets."

"Got it!"

Gordon was an excellent driver, skillfully weaving through the traffic, speeding up and overtaking cars, making use of the gaps left by ambulances, fire trucks, and police vehicles.

Martin picked up his phone, opened his contacts, and found Jessica's name.

Well, it was just because Jessica's name started with a letter early in the alphabet.

He dialed.

"Beep beep beep... Hello, Martin."

"Where are you?"

"Uh, we're on Yao Yao Ling Street. You sound urgent, what's happened?"

(PS: 110th Street is an east-west street in Upper Manhattan, New York City.)

Jessica, always perceptive, immediately noticed the urgency in Martin's voice—an emotion that was rare for him.

"Something's happened, a Black parade, and it might turn into a riot. They're heading in your direction. You three need to find a sturdy building to hide in right now. I'm on my way and will get there as soon as I can."

"What? Oh my God, how did this happen?"

"Jessica, what's going on? You look funny."

"Is it Martin on the phone? I want to talk to him too."

Dorothy and Lindsay, unaware of the seriousness of the situation, continued chatting and giggling with Jessica.

Jessica, now with a serious face, hung up the phone and said to the two girls, "Listen, I'm not joking. Martin just called. There's a Black riot happening in New York, and it's coming toward us. We need to hide somewhere. We'll wait for Martin to pick us up."

"What?"

Dorothy and Lindsay gasped in unison.

Dorothy quickly asked, "Can't we just run?"

"Where to?" Jessica pointed to the north, south, and east. "There are parades in all those directions." Then she pointed west. "That's the ocean! And there's no time left!"

"Damn it, we're surrounded," Lindsay muttered a bleak remark, but no one laughed.

"I remember there's a bank on this street—Manhattan Second Bank. It's sturdy. We should hide there!" Dorothy, surprisingly calm, suggested after thinking for a moment.

"It's probably closed by now," Jessica hesitated.

"To ordinary people, yes, but for VIPs, any bank is open 24/7. I have a VIP card there!"

Dorothy took out a silver card from her pocket and added, "But I need to call my bank manager first."

"Alright, let's go to the bank. Call your manager on the way."

The three girls quickly jogged down the street. People still wandered around, unaware of the chaos happening.

Dorothy made the call, then smiled, "It's all set. We can hide there."

They reached the bank's entrance, and Dorothy quickly sent Martin the bank's name and address.

Martin replied with an "OK" and told Gordon, "Gordon, take us to Manhattan Second Bank on Yao Yao Ling Avenue."

Ten minutes later...

"Martin, we can't get through ahead. The parade's blocking the road."

Martin immediately got out of the car, looking ahead. The parade had already blocked the way, not only preventing his car from moving but also stopping news vans and fire trucks.

A police car tried to push through, trying to disperse the parade, but it was a futile effort.

Soon, the police car was surrounded and overturned.

Martin quickly took out his phone.

"Jessica, where are you? Did you make it into the bank? I'm blocked on the north side of Broadway Avenue."

"Martin, don't worry. We're all inside the bank. Don't come here, it's too dangerous."

"Yeah, Martin, don't come. We're fine, they can't get inside the bank."

"Take care of yourself too, Martin!"

The three girls spoke in the phone, all trying to comfort him.

Martin felt slightly relieved. While riots often involved looting and destruction, banks were usually left untouched.

Although most Black people might not be too sharp, they knew not to mess with banks—the capital behind them was too powerful. If they touched it, it would be a never-ending war!

He hung up the phone but still couldn't shake off the worry for the girls. These three were his core assets, and he couldn't feel completely at ease until he saw them safe.

Beep beep beep...

A helicopter's rotor blades echoed overhead.

Looking up, Martin saw a Fox News helicopter descending toward the rooftop of a building about ten stories high.

At the same time, a news van with the Fox News logo parked on the side of the street. The doors were slammed open, and several people rushed out—some carrying cameras, others microphones or laptops—heading swiftly toward the building.

...

"Guys, let me confirm the plan once again."

"Once the parade reaches Yao Yao Ling Avenue, we'll cause chaos and lead the rioters to start looting. Then, while the distraction's in full swing, we'll blow open the Manhattan Bank's doors, eliminate the security guards, and head straight for the vault."

"Tonight's the perfect opportunity. Even if the bank's alarm goes off, the police won't arrive in time. Once we have the money, we'll blend in with the parade and leave."

"Everyone clear?"

"Got it."

"Ryan, you stay in the car and keep an eye on the surroundings. Once the parade arrives, create the chaos."

"Benjamin, work with Ryan."

"Amir, come with me to plant the bomb and blow the bank doors open."

...

Inside Manhattan Second Bank.

The girls were settled in the VIP room, and the staff had served them coffee before leaving.

The bank's VIP room was on the first floor, on the east side. There was a window with a security grate, and through the grid, they could see Yao Yao Ling Street outside.

"Oh my God, they're here! The parade is here, so many people!" Lindsay exclaimed.

"It looks like the parade's going smoothly," Dorothy observed after watching for a while.

On the street, bystanders hurriedly took shelter on either side, but the parade wasn't attacking them.

In fact, looting and destruction had already begun. However, most of the Black participants couldn't hold their patience. Many had been distracted by nearby stores, supermarkets, and malls as they passed by.

The few who made it this far were likely those who genuinely wanted to fight for Black rights.

Of course, not all. Many others were carried along, and hadn't been able to break away from the crowd in time.

Suddenly, a Molotov cocktail was thrown from the side of the parade, and a voice yelled, "Guys, this is the richest part of New York, everyone start looting!"

Boom!

The Molotov cocktail hit the glass of a luxury store, shattering it. Flames instantly erupted and spread.

"Loot it! Go loot!"

At the sound of the voice, a figure dashed out, smashed open the store's door, and quickly entered. Moments later, they emerged with a handful of jewelry, the loud alarm blaring.

"Everyone hurry, there's more inside!"

The person shouted before disappearing into the crowd.

A few of the parade participants exchanged looks, and soon, more than a dozen people left the parade, charging into the store. More people followed suit, rushing toward the stores lining the street.

Another Molotov cocktail was thrown, setting another blaze.

More people began to join the looting frenzy.

Even some of the genuine protesters couldn't resist, realizing that they had done their part by reaching here. After all, many of the Black people joining the protest were poor, and this opportunity to grab some goods was tempting.

The street descended into chaos, with some rushing toward the wealthier parts of Manhattan.

This is when the NYPD finally couldn't sit back anymore.

Manhattan was a hub of wealth. If it was severely damaged, not just New York, but the entire U.S. economy would suffer a massive blow.

Manhattan's police division was the strongest within the NYPD.

With the backing of capital, the officers were handpicked elites. They had the best equipment, vehicles, and training, and earned the highest salaries in the department.

In short, these officers were hired to protect the interests of the city's rich elite.