"Get back inside!"
At the shop entrance, a terrified woman bolted toward the street in panic. But with bullets flying that thick outside, she'd be lucky to make it five feet. The last civilian who tried was still lying out there in a spreading pool of blood.
Owen barked the order just in time, and someone inside the shop grabbed the woman and pulled her back in.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The cartel thug Owen had wounded earlier was still trying to shoot from the ground. Gutsy—but stupid. One clean shot to the head from Owen put him down for good.
With that guy handled, Owen quickly ejected his empty magazine and loaded his last one. Between the rescuing and the fighting, he'd already burned through most of his ammo.
"Use mine..."
The injured DEA agent, still propped behind cover, spoke weakly and nodded toward his vest.
Owen glanced down. Jackpot—the guy carried the same model sidearm as Owen: a SIG Sauer P226. Most street cops in the U.S. carried Glocks, but specialized federal units like the DEA, FBI, and CTU tended to prefer the heavier-duty P226.
Owen reached over and yanked three full mags from the agent's tactical harness and stuffed them into his own pockets. What he really needed, though, was a vest. No such luck.
BRRRRRT!
An Uzi chewed into the concrete around them, kicking up debris. One of the cartel goons had circled back, perhaps thinking this shop was his ticket out. Or maybe he figured the people inside could make good hostages.
Either way, he was spraying rounds like mad. Owen didn't dare pop his head up. He blind-fired back over the concrete lip, keeping the guy from getting too close.
"I saw a riot shield under that stall…"
The DEA agent gasped out again. Goddamn—could've mentioned that earlier.
Owen peeked around the planter and spotted it. Sure enough, beneath a toppled stall about fifteen feet away lay a heavy-duty ballistic shield. The fallen agent probably hadn't even had a chance to grab it before getting shot.
Problem was, those fifteen feet might as well have been a mile. That open stretch was a kill zone.
Owen yanked the agent's comm earpiece and jammed it into his own ear.
"Old Man George, you there?"
If George was part of the task force, he had to be one of the field commanders.
Sure enough, George's gruff voice came through: "Owen! I'm here!"
"I need cover fire on that busted stall. Gonna make a run for the shield."
"Copy. Suppression in ten seconds. Hang tight…"
Owen waited as George relayed the order over the radio net. He thumbed in a fresh mag and took a breath.
Five... Four... Three... Two... One—
BANG! BANG! BANG! RATATATATAT!
The police and DEA lit up the cartel's position with a hailstorm of lead. Owen counted to one more beat, then bolted from cover.
The suppressing fire worked. For a second, not a single bullet came his way.
Owen sprinted. When he got close, he dove into a sliding tackle, crashing shoulder-first into the overturned stall.
BRRRRRRRT!
The cartel regained their senses and opened fire just as Owen disappeared under the cover. Bullets shredded the stall, but they were too late.
And then—for just a moment—the world froze.
The wounded DEA agent stared toward the stall, holding his breath. Amanda peeked from the shop, her face pale. Inside the command truck, George gritted his teeth. Police behind cover glanced anxiously toward the destroyed booth. Even the cartel gunmen stopped to look.
All eyes were locked on the bullet-riddled debris.
Then—
A figure rose.
Owen stood tall behind the riot shield, advancing in a crouch. One arm reached around the side to fire, the other held the massive plate like a knight's shield.
POP! POP!
Two precise shots blew apart the thug who'd been spraying the Uzi.
The silence shattered. Chaos resumed.
CRACK! CRACK!
Owen kept firing from behind the shield, pushing forward like a juggernaut. Bullets ricocheted off the reinforced plastic with shrill metallic clangs, but the shield held firm.
Behind him, the DEA and police—emboldened—surged forward with him. Gunfire intensified on all sides.
With their vehicles disabled and nowhere to run, the cartel thugs were now trapped in an ever-shrinking circle. The pressure was mounting.
Some went full berserk. They screamed curses, firing wildly, throwing themselves into hopeless charges. They clawed at Owen's shield, leaving nothing but dents and blood for their trouble.
One even tried to break through Owen's line—thinking maybe a lone man was an easier mark.
He was wrong.
Owen didn't flinch. He waited behind the shield, eyes steady on the observation slit. When the thug reached twenty meters—
POP! POP!
Dead. Two rounds. Clean headshot.
The body skidded across the pavement and went still.
...
BANG! BANG!
Minutes later, the last of the cartel forces surrendered. Fewer than five were left alive. The rest lay dead or dying in pools of blood and shell casings.
DEA agents disarmed them and marched them to waiting vans.
George appeared, helmet off, sweat streaking his face.
"Owen, goddamn—what a show. You've picked up some serious skills since CTU. DEA brass was asking who the hell you were—I told 'em: that's my old protégé!"
He grabbed Owen in a bear hug.
Owen returned it—until he saw blood on George's vest.
"Old man—you're hit?"
"Nah. Not mine. Belongs to some scumbag. I'm fine."
Figures. Even as deputy commander, George still loved getting his hands dirty.
As they spoke, a man in a Kevlar vest and suit walked up.
"David Cooper, DEA."
"Owen, Steve. CTU. Just here with my sister—wrong place, wrong time."
"You saved lives today. No doubt about it. But I need you to come down to the station for a debrief. Standard procedure."
"Of course."
Owen turned and gave Amanda and Kim a helpless shrug. The two girls sighed in unison.
So much for that Hawaii vacation.
------------------
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Reborn in America's Anti-Terror Unit (Chapter 542)
Solomon in Marvel (Chapter 924)
Becoming the Wealthiest Tycoon on the Planet (Chapter 1284)
Surgical Fruit in the American Comics Universe (Chapter 1289)
American Detective: From TV Rookie to Seasoned Cop (Chapter 1316)
American TV Writer (Chapter 1402)
I Am Hades, The Supreme GOD of the Underworld! (Chapter 570)
Reborn as Humanity's Emperor Across the Multiverse (Chapter 660)
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