David Comers.
male.
Thirty-eight years old.
Lives at 503, 5th Floor, 138 Cotford Street, New York City.
Social security number 562948726.
Joe looked at the freshly-made report and the photo of David on it. It was hard for him to connect the photo with the body downstairs that had begun to rot.
"Let's go."
"What?"
Joe came back to his senses and looked up, stunned to see Lake standing up and wearing a suit jacket.
Lake put his gun into his gun bag and said, "Why, you don't plan to go to this guy's house?"
Qiao: "…"
Kotev Street.
"Number one hundred and thirty-eight, right here."
Lake drove the car slowly forward and looked at the house numbers on the roadside. After a while, he stopped in front of a six-story apartment building with an orange exterior.
get off.
Lake looked around and found nothing unusual, then walked towards the apartment building.
Joe followed behind.
This apartment building is an old one and there is no elevator, which makes Lake feel a little unhappy as he walks up to the fifth floor. If it weren't for the burden, how could he be here?
Fifth floor.
When Lake pushed open the stair door, his eyes fell on where 503 should be.
Clang!
Um?
Lake put his right hand on his waist and took out the Glock 17 that needed to be reloaded. Detective Joe Martinez next to him did the same to take out his service pistol.
The Glock with unlimited bullets is not suitable for use when performing tasks. Although the New York Police Department does not have standard firearms, the ballistics of the firearms you use when performing tasks need to be filed with the police department's information department.
"Walk!"
"good!"
Lake and Joe had a brief conversation, then they walked cautiously towards Room 503 with guns in both hands, the closed door visible when noises came from inside.
The door of the apartment next door opened, and an old white lady carrying trash walked in. She exclaimed when she saw Lake and Joe holding guns in the corridor.
Joe quickly covered the old lady's mouth, showed his ID in front of the old lady's terrified expression, and then motioned for the old lady to go back to her room.
The old lady hurried back to her room.
but...
The movement in room 503 opposite also disappeared.
It's over.
Lake sighed, then grabbed Joe beside him and retreated towards the place where he had just come from.
Next second.
Boom boom boom!
Gunshots suddenly rang out from room 503, as if bullets from a submachine gun were madly blasting through the wooden structure of the wall in the room and sweeping towards the position where Lake and Joe had just been.
The bullet hit the door of Room 502 and pierced it. Suddenly there was a scream of pain from inside, and then nothing happened.
After a wave of gunfire.
With a loud bang.
The door of room 503 was broken open, and a man with his face covered with gauze held a gun in both hands and fired at Lake and Joe in the corridor again.
Fuck!
Lake cursed and once again carried Joe, who had just been pulled down by him and had not yet had time to stand up, and quickly went to the stairwell from the back.
Bullets hit the walls of the stairs with a swish sound.
pain!
Lake was scratched by the flying wall fragments and narrowed his eyes.
Good job.
I just want to come here and go through the motions, and then I can go home from get off work. What does that mean? Are you not going to let me go home from get off work, or are you planning to give me a long vacation?
Lake looked at Joe who stood up next to him and said, "Are you okay?"
Joe shook his head: "It's okay."
"Call for backup!"
"…Okay, wait…"
The words fell.
Joe only saw Lake in front of him rushing out the moment the gunfire from the opposite side stopped, and he felt bad all over.
Are you seeking death?
but...
"Bang, bang, bang!"
"…"
The killer standing at the door of room 503 rushed back into room 503, which had broken open the door, the moment he saw Lake appear and flames burst out from the muzzle of his gun.
"You're looking for death. I'll send you there."
After learning that the news of David's death had been exposed to the police station, the killer who was ordered to come and clean up David's things leaned against the wall, narrowed his eyes, reloaded the gun, pointed it outside, fired, and then swung it hard.
The textile factory's unique skill, gun fighting!
Lake's eyes narrowed slightly, and he swung the Glock 17 in his hand!
Bang!
Bang!
The two golden bullets collided in the air and shattered into pieces.
"What?"
"Bang!"
The killer's eyes narrowed as he looked at the bullet hole that turned a corner and hit him, just a little bit away from killing him. He felt unwell.
How come this guy also knows this? Is Carlos here too?
Fuck!
Lake took off his glasses and had a blank expression on his face.
Are you stupid?
I can do it too.
Before I learned the art of gun fighting, I would have dared to fight against the people from your textile factory.
What's more, now.
Since you don't intend to let me go through the motions, then don't leave. If you don't die today, I will take your surname!
MMP!
Lake had encountered risks over the years when he was a law enforcement officer or a killer, but this killer's approach was to fight without declaring war, without giving anyone any chance to be on guard at all.
Simply put, it means a lack of martial ethics.
Frankly speaking, this time, Lake guaranteed that it was the most thrilling one in recent years. The last time it was so exciting was when he crossed the minefield during the overseas operation.
Lake had made an appointment with the loan department of Stark Bank in the afternoon. He was going to apply for an interest-free loan for police officers, and was going to borrow 100,000 US dollars to have a chance to participate in the lottery.
Now that's better.
I finally made an appointment with Stark Bank, but now I can't go down.
"Bang!"
"Fuck!"
The killer was completely confused. Seeing the bullet coming in again, he retreated directly to the living room and began to look for other ways out, but all he saw was flames.
...Yes, flames.
When Lake just came over, the killer had already poured gasoline into the house, intending to burn David's apartment to the ground. This was the most correct way to clean up.
The sound coming from room 503 when Lake and Joe went up to the fifth floor was the sound of a Molotov cocktail exploding in the inner room.
what to do?
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Lake fired bullet after bullet into room 503.
Just then.
A bulging object was thrown out from room 503.
Lake's eyes narrowed slightly.
Next second.
Adrenal stimulation.
boom!
In an instant, Lake felt that everything around him was in a trance, somewhat similar to the feeling of being drunk, but very clear, so clear that Lake could see the trajectory of the grenade bouncing on the ground.
"Bang!"
"What the hell?"
The killer, who was planning to use a grenade to run from room 503 to room 502 opposite, was completely dumbfounded when he saw Lake picking up the grenade with one toe like lightning as he threw the grenade and ran out of the door. His mind was filled with countless thoughts of how this could be possible.
at the same time.
He also saw Lake, without glasses, score a goal with a powerful shot.
"Black Ki..."
The words just came out!
Boom!
The grenade exploded instantly the moment it touched the killer's waist.
flame.
The explosion swept all around!
…
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