"They're dead," Bishop said, his eyes fixed on the two men who had already reached the car.
The sniper never fired, yet the two men had managed to start the car.
The car turned, veered, and drove onto the main road. Still no gunfire was heard, and a glimmer of hope rose in the hearts of those hiding at the windows, peering out.
By then, everyone had arrived at the police station lobby, hiding behind several windows as they watched the drug addict driving east along the main road.
"Maybe they can get away," Alice nervously clasped her hands to her chest, as if praying.
Veteran Inspector Jasper angrily spat, "I bet those two cowards wouldn't help call the police even if they got away."
John, with a grim expression, pointed to two GMCs in the distance. They seemed to be just watching, not even turning on their headlights.
The Ford SUV gradually began to accelerate, heading off into the distance. Jack could even see the drug addict in the driver's seat slapping the steering wheel excitedly.
Then, a strange engine roar echoed from the sky, and everyone's heart seemed to resonate with the low, puffing sound, creating an inexplicable sense of tension.
The wind and snow, which had been weakening for a while, suddenly intensified, but it seemed to come not from any direction, but from the air!
A searchlight beam shone down on the fleeing Ford SUV. Following the beam's direction, everyone looked up and saw a helicopter flying low and fast.
It was a Subaru Bell 412EPX helicopter in police livery. Jack recognized it immediately because the NYPD had just purchased two new ones this year to enhance search and rescue and support capabilities.
"Damn it, they called in the AV-5!" Ronick exclaimed.
Jack didn't know what "AV-5" was, but he could probably guess it was an abbreviation for the Detroit Police Air Support Team or something like that.
Under the horrified gaze of the police station, the police helicopter hovered steadily above the road, slowly tilting sideways, and then the cabin door was violently yanked open.
Granted, it was a police helicopter after all, so it couldn't possibly have a door-mounted machine gun. But facing the barrage of two assault rifles, the Ford SUV, its windshield already shattered, couldn't withstand more than three seconds of direct fire. Its front end tilted and flipped into the roadside ditch.
In reality, it's practically impossible to blow up a car with just a 5.56 caliber assault rifle. The helicopter crew didn't waste ammunition, but instead used their searchlights to observe.
From the station's vantage point, they couldn't see what was happening below the curb, but as the helicopter's cabin erupted with more bursts of gunfire, the fate of the drug addict and Hesmeri Jr. was clear.
"At least now we know what Marcus Duval and his men are waiting for." John sighed softly as he watched the helicopter turn and head toward the police station.
Soon, the sound of helicopter propellers could be heard overhead, and in the distance, a GMC lit up its lights and slowly approached.
"Jack, what are your thoughts? Stay in this room?" Bishop instinctively looked directly at Jack.
"What else? Go out and get hunted like turkeys?" Jack looked at Ronik, seeing his panicked expression, and immediately took over the command.
"Bishop, take your men and gather flammable materials. Alcohol or gasoline, the more the better. Pile them on the landing between the first and second floors.
Sheriff, find everyone a safe place. This police station doesn't even have a basement, does it?"
Hiding in the basement after setting a fire wasn't a good option, but there wasn't much else to do. Generally speaking, civilian basements should have basic fire protection, although there was still a risk of suffocation.
Instead, Ronik looked for help at the veteran officer, Jasper, nearby. It was clear that the acting chief, who had been here six months, didn't know much about the old station.
"Yes, it's under the storage room. Damn, I think I forgot something. There should be a way out there. There seems to be an old sewer under the basement."
Jasper slapped his head. Seeing everyone's gaze fixed on him, he quickly excused himself. "I really didn't remember. Too much has happened tonight. And don't get your hopes up. Even I don't know where that sewer leads."
"It doesn't matter. Alice, take the others to the basement. John, come with me." Jack didn't have time to dwell on this now. He patted the others on the shoulders and urged them on.
A moment later, an unsettling sound came from the ventilation duct leading to the roof. Jack returned to the stairwell, but John was no longer there.
The staircase landing was now filled with various bottles and jars filled with flammable materials, including the half-empty bottle of aged Irish whiskey from the previous party.
Bishop and Ronnick hid on either side of the hallway, nervously monitoring the movements overhead.
"Go on," Jack said, distributing the last two magazines between them and nodding. "You can retreat now, leave this to me."
"Are you sure?" Ronnick said with a worried look.
"Don't worry about me, I have another way to escape," Jack waved his hand, looking anxious to get them out.
Two GMCs approached the gate. As their lights dimmed, a few muffled thuds were heard, and several smoke bombs shattered the windows and landed in the front hall.
"Then be careful," Ronnick said, his eyes flickering with emotion. He gritted his teeth and turned to leave.
Bishop also gave Jack a deep look. Without saying anything, he turned to follow, but was grabbed by Jack.
Just as he gazed at the mysterious FBI agent in bewilderment, he felt a slight heaviness in his jacket pocket, as if something had been stuffed into it.
"Be careful," Jack whispered, quickly ascending the stairs.
Bishop stared blankly at the direction he had vanished, then, as if awakening from a dream, he quickly turned and followed Ronik.
A Subaru Bell 412EPX helicopter, besides the pilot and co-pilot, could carry a special operations team of at least twelve fully armed soldiers.
Jack wasn't sure if the Detroit Police Department was entirely composed of villains, but even Gotham had its righteous Sheriff Gordon. He figured the men aboard the helicopter were likely Marcus Duvall's final trump card before dawn.
It was all just bad luck. If the blizzard had dissipated any later, the helicopter might not have been deployed, and everyone would have been able to wait out the daylight in peace.
Overhead, the clatter of someone dismantling a ventilation duct nearly drowned out the din of the helicopter, but Jack ignored it. The duct was wide enough for a person to fit through, but only a child or a petite woman.
A fully armed adult man trying to squeeze in was sheer folly; he would have to force a skylight first.
He rushed into the innermost office, maximizing his vision and squinting to locate the remaining two snipers on the third floor of the opposite building and on the other rooftop.
"Crash!" The shattering of window glass was unnoticeable amid the clamor from the rooftop, including the subsequent gunfire.
This time, Jack avoided any sniper retaliation, as he moved from close range to range, first killing the sniper on the third floor opposite with a single shot, then, with a short burst of fire, taking out the one on the opposite rooftop.
"Boom!" An explosion echoed through the second floor. The airborne undercover cops, having dismantled the rooftop duct, had used explosives to create a skylight.
However, just as one of them was impatiently lowering the rope without waiting for the dust to clear, several bullets shot out from the newly opened artificial skylight.
The corrupt police officer immediately spurted out a stream of blood, clutching his neck and falling silently into the snow on the roof.
"Damn bastard!"
"You bastard!"
The remaining five people on the roof were visibly panicking, and stun grenades and smoke bombs were thrown down one after another.
Jack casually fired a burst of bullets at the skylight, not caring about his own results. He flipped the safety, threw the AR15 behind him, rushed to the stairs and flew up.
With a strong push of his feet against the wall, he landed lightly on the staircase landing. Jack picked up two bottles and smashed them on the stairs, then threw a few more into the corridor leading to the front hall. Leaving behind him a stun grenade with the pin already pulled out, he rushed to the temporary detention area without looking back.
(End of this chapter)