"Smack!"
Jack remained silent after being slapped. He was in the wrong.
Granted, he was no longer the rookie whose heart raced whenever he fired a gun, his mind preoccupied with killing and murder. Most of the time, he could still endure it until he got home.
But that only came when there weren't any particularly tempting targets in sight. And yet, Alex followed him.
Though it was only a dozen seconds, his thieving hands had already expertly touched everything he should and shouldn't have, even applying a bit of force.
As everyone knows, when wearing a tight-fitting evening gown, some women opt for a 'TBACK', while others simply go for the most form-fitting style, leaving nothing between their bodies and the dress.
Alex clearly chose the latter, but she immediately regretted slapping Jack. After all, her previous act of lifting the hem of her skirt was a hint.
The gentle slap wasn't so much a way to save face as it was a sign of humiliation and anger. After all, some bodily reactions can't be faked.
"I beat them, baby! I beat them!"
the addict's voice rang out from the stairwell. Sheriff Ronik seemed to be loudly confirming the situation everywhere. Judging by the noise, the enemy seemed to have retreated.
Jack checked the temporary holding area, the storage room, and the back door one by one. After confirming that it was safe, he dragged the four bodies of the corrupt cops into the cells.
When he returned to the corridor, carrying the newly seized assault rifle and bulletproof vest, he still found Alex standing there with her arms folded. The cold wind outside blew in through the broken window, making her shiver.
"What's wrong?" Jack looked down, saw her bare feet carefully moving on the floor covered with broken glass, and he understood what was going on.
"Go on." He handed the heavy bulletproof vest to Alex, and then Jack lifted her up in a princess hug.
There was a sound of hurried footsteps, and John, seeing this, couldn't help but grin. "Looks like someone's got a lot of loot."
But his smile quickly faded, and he pointed behind him. "The enemy's retreated, but the situation up ahead is not good. You'd better go check it out."
-
"I repeat, put down your gun! You damned murderer!"
"Old man, don't point that ridiculous little revolver at me. That's not a wise move."
Jack and John returned to the front hall and witnessed Bishop and old officer Jasper confronting each other.
At this moment, the crowd had completely formed into two distinct groups. The old officer pointed his gun at someone, and the other three prisoners also pointed their guns at the officers from Precinct 13, forcing Sheriffs Roenick and Alice to point their guns at them.
Even with his gun pointed at the prisoners, Roenick turned to look at the veteran officer, Jasper. "What are you doing? Jasper, put your gun down!"
The black girl, who had been silent until then, suddenly erupted. "You bitch! We just helped you, and now you're turning your guns on us?"
"Yeah, thank you, sweethearts. Now, put your guns down and slowly back to the corner!" Jasper, despite his age, was full of energy.
"Our trouble is outside, not inside. Put your guns down! There's no need for this, Jasper!" Roenick continued to plead.
The drug addict, feeling a little guilty, pointed his AR-15, now empty, at Roenick, but his words were still flowing.
"You know what the problem is? We criminals have human rights too! Yes, we have the right to be protected and free from harm under any circumstances.
If you can't protect us, Fuckyou! Then we'll do it ourselves."
"Fuckyou! You damn lunatic!" veteran officer Jasper retorted. "Captain, do you really trust these freaks?
They'll kill us and get away the first chance they get."
"No, they need us, and we need them too. The only thing we don't need right now is infighting!" Ronick was clearly the clearest-headed.
"If we want to survive this night, we have to trust each other. Put down your guns! Jasper!"
The young captain's forehead was throbbing with a vein popping. He dropped his gun and stood in the middle of the crowd, blocking Jasper and Bishop.
Just as the atmosphere reached its peak, as if a single spark could cause an explosion, a calm voice reached the crowd.
"Alice, get me some bandages and alcohol. Alex stepped on broken glass and hurt her foot."
Everyone looked in the direction of the voice. Jack appeared at the entrance, carrying the psychiatrist. Behind him was John, who had upgraded his weapon to two AR-15s.
"Ah, all right." Seeing Jack, Alice seemed to instantly withdraw from the tense confrontation. She immediately put down her gun and turned to find a medical kit.
Seeing everyone's eyes on him, Jack, without even looking up, pulled over a wooden stool with a broken back and helped Alex sit on it.
"Why are you looking at me? The air vents in the detention area need to be blocked, as do the windows in the hallway, and that smashed door. You're not expecting them to give up, are you?
Anyone with other ideas can just hold up a white cloth and walk out and gamble whether the sniper across the street will open fire."
Jack's words were like a bucket of cold water poured over everyone's heads, calming them down. Of course, it wasn't his words that had the real effect, but his previous performance.
Especially the four prisoners, including Bishop. They had witnessed Jack's easy-to-kill manner before, and now seeing him effortlessly return with two more assault rifles, even the dumbest person could guess he'd taken out two more cops.
Aside from the cop who had sneaked into the hallway and was beaten to death, Jack single-handedly carried out all the remaining kills. No one, including Bishop, the gang leader, dared to stand up to him.
"Alright, alright," Ronik smoothly pressed the old officer's revolver and began to soothe the group. "It's New Year's Eve, why can't we just put the past behind us?"
Bishop raised the gun, flipped the safety, and looked intently at the sheriff, then at Jack, who was squatting over Alex, examining her wounds.
"I promised you, I'll take care of these guys, Sheriff, you take care of yours. Maybe we have a chance of surviving the night,"
Ronik breathed a sigh of relief. Just as he was about to speak, John handed him an extra AR-15 and a bulletproof vest.
"Jack said these are for you to distribute."
(End of this chapter)