Whether it's coal or natural gas, both are inherently colorless and odorless. For safety reasons, a sulfide gas is often added to gas cans or piped gas as a warning.
So if you smell this distinctive odor, don't hesitate to check the gas stove's on/off switch, and don't even try to calm yourself down by smoking a cigarette.
"Gas! Gas!" Ivan yelled, rushing to the wall and pulling the fire alarm, which blared.
The banquet hall erupted in chaos. The dignitaries, who had also smelled the odor, instantly lost their usual gentlemanly demeanor and shoved each other toward the door, eager to leave the scene as quickly as possible.
Bracken's security team was extremely professional. Almost as soon as the commotion broke out, several men in black suits surrounded the councilor, and muscular bodyguards surrounded him, forcing their way through the crowd.
At this moment, Bracken couldn't care less about the gentlemen and ladies before him, who were his breadwinners. With his head lowered,
Bracken, flanked by his bodyguards, hurried toward the main entrance of the banquet hall. "Get out of the way!" The security chief, wearing a headset, pushed aside the guests blocking the entrance and rammed the double doors.
The doors cracked a little, but that was all. Behind them, bound tightly with high-strength carbon fiber necklaces, they couldn't be opened for a while.
"The main exit is blocked, go to Exit 2! Quick!" the security chief, sensing trouble, shouted.
The bodyguards surrounding Bracken quickly joined the front, turning around and surrounding him once again as they rushed toward the side door near the podium.
This time, the crowd blocking their path was even more intense. The bodyguards barged in with their fists, beating and kicking everyone aside, whether they were a white-haired old man or a woman whose dress straps had been torn off.
Fortunately, the side exit was clear, and six bodyguards, along with the head of security, escorted Bracken through the emergency exit into the annex's parking lot and up the stairs to the fifth floor.
Two bodyguards opened the door and rushed into the parking lot. A stretched Lincoln and a Suburban, having received the notification, were already parked at the exit, one behind the other.
After checking to make sure it was safe, the head of security escorted Bracken to the car and arranged for two bodyguards to protect him in the middle of the back seat. He himself took the passenger seat and announced, "VIP, get out!"
"Roger!" A Suburban and an identical stretched Lincoln, parked on the first floor as a backup and also as a cover, immediately started up and drove out of the parking lot, waiting at the curb.
Inside, Bracken's face was gloomy and silent, his body swaying from side to side as the car swerved, a simmering anger.
The stretched Lincoln and the Suburban, one behind the other, quickly descended the passageway from the fifth floor of the parking lot to the fourth. Just as they turned the corner, the muffled sound of gunfire rang out. The
.50
bullets sliced through the hood of the bulletproof Lincoln, worth five or six million dollars, like a hot knife through butter, leaving a dense mass of bullet holes.
Victoria folded her arms, watching with great satisfaction as Anna maneuvered the Browning M2HB heavy machine gun, precisely controlling the bullets to land on the hood.
The deafening roar of gunfire echoed across the empty parking lot. Jack, watching from a corner, smacked his lips with envy, then turned and pressed the elevator button nearby.
Anna, dressed in a red evening gown and beautiful lace gloves, gracefully operated the Lao Gan Ma, a machine gun with a terrifying recoil, but securely fixed to the floor by a heavy tripod.
As the carrot-thick brass shells were flung high into the air, the girl's breasts, which had grown two cup sizes during her comfortable life, rose and fell with the recoil, a scene of unparalleled beauty.
The Lincoln, its radiator blasted, tilted its front end and slammed into a parked Cadillac, leaving a trail of bullet holes along the body armor plating.
The following Suburban wasn't armored; its front tire had been blown off. The driver swerved, the entire vehicle lying across the Lincoln, "accidentally" serving as cover.
Although Anna had deliberately held back, the power of the .50mm round was undeniable. Not only could the bulletproof glass, but even the sturdy armor plating couldn't withstand a barrage of Lao Gan Ma bullets at a range of twenty or thirty meters.
Several bodyguards from the Suburban, bloodied, scrambled out of the car and took cover behind the Lincoln. They dared not even raise their heads, let alone return fire with their pistols.
The head of security escorted Bracken out of the Lincoln, shoving aside several bodyguards and crouching behind it. The elevator door dinged open, and Jack and Ivan met in the elevator, smiling at each other. "I'll leave this to you, sir, " Jack placed a pen in his hand.
"See you later, young man," the now-in-a-good moody Russian winked at Jack. They swapped positions, one entering the elevator, the other exiting. As the doors closed, someone breathed a sigh of relief. He'd always felt an inexplicable pressure (or guilt?) around this Russian. "
Backup needed on the fourth floor of the north side of the parking garage, hurry!" The head of security threw away his shattered wireless headphones, not even bothering to wipe the blood from his forehead from the shrapnel wound, and shouted into the intercom.
A second Lincoln limousine, waiting on the first floor, arrived with a shrill grind of tires, stopping just around the corner, just out of the Lao Gan Ma's line of fire.
"Someone come with me to get the VIP to the car, the rest of you, cover!" The security chief shouted, forcing the other bodyguards to bite the bullet and raise their guns simultaneously.
But before any of the three could make a move, old Ivan, who had been watching all this, smiled and snapped the cap of his pen. The din of gunfire was instantly drowned out by the explosion.
A ball of fire suddenly erupted from under the hood of the recently arrived Lincoln, frightening the bodyguards and Bracken, who were hiding behind the car.
"We have to get out of here!" The security chief glanced at the emergency exit on the other side of the parking lot. He grabbed Bracken, who was clutching his crotch, and, leaving half of his men to cover him, rushed in with the remaining four bodyguards.
"We're approaching the target from the west." Cooper, accompanied by two CIA agents and a bruised Cassel, arrived to provide support.
Even through a door in the hallway, he could clearly hear the distinctive muffled crackle of heavy machine gun fire outside. Although he knew he was just playing along, Cooper still swallowed nervously.
After all, Jack couldn't possibly tell him the specific plan of action. He hadn't expected those old spies to make such a big deal out of it, actually daring to use a .50 caliber heavy machine gun in the city.
(End of chapter)