Nearly a year after the dazzling mushroom cloud rose from Central Park one night, adding an artificial pond, New Yorkers were once again blessed with a miniature mushroom cloud, and in broad daylight.
The shockwave traveled along the walls of the street, shattering every window along the street and embedding a manhole cover into the hull of an armored vehicle.
While this explosion was orders of magnitude smaller than the one in Central Park, the devastation was far greater. Jack bet the media would undoubtedly use the title "Worst XX Attack Since 9/11" as a headline.
Jack shook his groggy head and cast a healing spell before recovering from the unbearable tinnitus. He patted his work jacket, emblazoned with yellow FBI letters, and shook off the shattered glass before calling out to his teammates on the squad chat.
"Guys, are you all alright?"
he asked repeatedly, and after a long pause, weak replies trickled in.
"It's ok, at least they're still alive."
"We should be able to rescue them."
"We have to chase them. I saw them go into the sewers. We can't let Zhang Mingjun get away!" A voice irritated Jack.
He glanced back at Lin Zheling, his gaze finally landing on the AK he was holding.
"Hand it over." Jack continued speaking in English, but his body language, reaching for the gun, was unmistakable.
Lin Zheling, whether stunned or feigning ignorance, instinctively tightened his grip on the gun.
"Fuck! You're giving me face?"
Jack's heart surged with inexplicable rage. Without a word, he attacked, grabbing the man's arm and gently exerting force.
Although his old condition had somewhat affected him, Jack remained relatively rational. Disarming the man was indeed his primary goal.
Therefore, after grabbing the man's arm, he didn't move further, giving him time to react. Otherwise, even if Clay was caught off guard by his surprise attack, the only outcome would be that he would be knocked down in one blow.
It was clear that Lieutenant Colonel Lin Zheling hadn't risen to the top by sitting in an office; as a soldier, he wasn't the type to be approached easily. With a narrowed eye , he chose to fight back.
For a moment, the dull thud of flesh clashing echoed through the dusty shop. Lin Zheling used every possible means, from eye-popping to kicking to blocking to choking. Jack, who had clearly struck first, opted to parry, blocking his barrage with elbows, knees, and shins.
The opponent wasn't using the Taekwondo techniques popular in both North and South Korea, but rather a modern, military-style fighting style—dirty yet incredibly effective.
They had been hiding in a designer women's clothing store. Seeing this scene, the clerks and several female customers, who had been dazed, stared in astonishment, exclaiming "kongfu" (likely referring to a brand name) and "kongfu."
This kind of hard-hitting, hard-hitting style in the confined space was a delight to watch, not only dazzling but also reminiscent of the punch-and-fist thrills of old-school Hong Kong films with added sound effects.
But Lin Zheling soon lost his temper. After all, breaking a 10cm thick iron rod with a single kick was like taking out a Siberian tiger with a sliding tackle; it only existed in the fantasies of some idiot.
Anyone who spent two minutes pounding away at a steel column that seemed barely covered in leather would be like him, their hands and feet shaking uncontrollably with pain.
Jack wasn't simply blocking; he was using his superhuman reflexes, knee to knee, elbow to elbow, imitating the unique skills of Gusu Murong from Mr. Cha's martial arts novels.
With a gentle kick to the AK that had fallen to the ground, Jack unloaded the magazine, cocked the bolt, and ejected the bullet. He raised his chin to Lieutenant Park, whose gun had been unloaded by Clay nearby.
"You'd better take him to the hospital for a checkup, a CT scan or something."
Jack was being measured. Breaking his hands and feet was too brutal, but if he sustained a counterattack, there was no need to worry about the international impact.
A minor bone fracture is still considered a fracture, and a cast will be needed for at least a month to heal, so that no one will continue to buzz in his ears.
Judging from the last scene he saw, today's incident is going to be a big problem. Not only will Director Reagan be in trouble, but even his female boss will probably be blamed. It
's hard to say how a certain monarchy will react, but the Department of Justice will definitely launch an investigation into the FBI immediately.
The thought of Director Reagan made Jack's heart tighten suddenly, and he suddenly remembered that there was still Reagan who was still unknown whether he was alive or dead.
"Clay, notify the NYPD and headquarters to immediately send people to seal off all sewage outlets along the Hudson River, and seal off the bridges and tunnels leading out of the island! I'm going to find Danny!"
He said as he ran to the intersection where Danny had the accident. When he passed the scrapped armored vehicle, he took a look inside and saw the bodies of three ESU members lying inside.
Danny's police car was wrecked on the right side of the intersection. Sirens wailed, and red fire trucks and ambulances were approaching. Patrol cars cordoned off the surrounding intersection, preventing any fearless enthusiasts from approaching.
Danny lay in the passenger seat of the police car, his head covered in blood. The deflated airbag in front of him was also stained with blood, but his eyes were open, staring at Jack running towards him with a look of death.
"Danny! Danny!" Although his senses told him he was still alive, Jack was still frightened by his appearance and quickly reached out to feel for his carotid artery.
"I'm fine, just my foot is stuck." Danny grabbed Jack's hand, tears streaming. "Go help the others first."
Jack then activated a healing spell and breathed a sigh of relief.
The injury wasn't serious, just a few broken bones and a concussion, but the problem with his left foot was more serious. A compound fracture would leave him lame for at least six months.
But for Danny, this might be a good thing. He could rest at home for a while and spend some time with his wife and children.
"We need hydraulic clamps here! There's a casualty trapped!" Jack waved to the newly arrived firefighters and looked behind the truck at the intersection.
Four police motorcycles lay sprawled there, but only two bodies lay on the ground. Nearby, someone was also calling for emergency services. It seemed that brave, caring citizens had saved the other two officers who had been shot.
Jack was more concerned about Danny's mental health than his physical injuries. He always acted like a tough guy in front of him; those two tears he'd just shed couldn't have been from pain.
But now was clearly not the time for psychological counseling. As the firefighters arrived with their various tools, Jack rushed toward the direction of the calls for help.
Although ambulances continued to arrive, the emergency services were overwhelmed. Besides the numerous injured officers, over a hundred innocent bystanders needed urgent medical attention.
To create maximum chaos, several automatic weapons were fired directly at the passersby, including the MK46 light machine gun now abandoned at the sewer entrance.
Several injured pedestrians collapsed on the sidewalk and perished in the subsequent explosion.
After stabilizing the two rescued officers, Jack, shaking his dizzy head, had just gotten up when Jiejie's voice, clearly crying, suddenly rang out over the team chat.
"Jack! Where are you? Hannah's hurt!"
"What's going on?" Jack, usually unflappable, lost his composure, grabbed a medical kit left on the ground by a paramedic, and rushed to the end of the street.
(End of chapter)