"You don't need to know who we are. Hand over what you found, and no one will get hurt here today.
Don't try to stall for time; no one will come to rescue you. Speaking of which, that wireless signal jammer you suggested is quite useful."
Outside, the sneers continued. In the wine cellar, Jack was pulling a bulletproof vest from a marked barrel and putting it on Taylor.
Although she knew everything was going according to plan, the female reporter couldn't help but feel a little worried. After all, the enemy currently had a clear numerical advantage, and according to yesterday's plan, reinforcements would be some time off.
"Jack, give me a gun, I can help too."
Jack slung a Noveske N4 assault rifle across his back, reached out and touched Taylor's head, soothingly. "Stay here, don't move. Close your eyes and cover your ears. It'll be over soon."
He was furious. He was the only one who used stun grenades, and now someone dared to threaten him with one.
A moment of silence fell. Minutes passed, and the wine cellar remained completely silent. The two former FBI agents guarding the door exchanged a glance and nodded.
Just as Leonard Pitt, armed with a grenade launcher, loaded two smoke bombs and prepared to fire, a hand suddenly appeared beneath the shutter door, waving a small notebook. Jack's voice echoed.
"You want this? So you all work for 'HR'?"
"Looks like you're not as foolish as we thought. Throw the ledger out, and you and your woman will live!" Craig Bogle was overjoyed, as if he could already see $2 million beckoning to him.
His partner, Leonard Pitt, was more cautious, shouting, "We all know you're a sharpshooter, so throw it far away and don't try to be gimmicky."
The ledger landed with a thud in the open space in front of the door, its pages fluttering in the distant sea breeze.
However, the two former FBI agents remained motionless, hiding behind the open car door. Despite their previous disparagement of someone who relied on connections or women to rise to power,
the saying goes, "A man's reputation is like a tree's shadow." Despite Jack's unknown achievements, they had witnessed his decisive disposal of the suicide collar from Alice's neck downstairs of the Federal Building.
After a moment's hesitation, Craig Bogle beckoned to a nearby gunman, "You, go pick it up."
The named gunman, completely focused and on guard, only reacted after being called out twice. He even glanced around, only then confirming that he was the unlucky individual. He
cursed inwardly, but remembering the half-paid reward still to come, the unfortunate gunman could only hunker down and run forward.
Relying on the night-time bonus granted by his race, he slipped along the shadows of the house until he reached the door. Then, with the speed of a football player, he rushed forward, snatched up the ledger, and ran.
Taking the account book from the gunman, Craig Bogle flipped through it casually, nodding to his partner after spotting a few familiar names and the amounts behind them.
Leonard Pitt breathed a sigh of relief and waved vigorously to the gunmen surrounding the house.
As several barrels of gasoline were unloaded from the pickup truck and dumped against the wall, flames erupted, instantly illuminating the area around the wine cellar and the gunman, who had hidden himself behind the headlights.
At that moment, something unexpected happened. A chaotic cacophony of sirens suddenly rang out in the distance. Just as those present were unsure whether the blast was directed at them, short, rhythmic gunshots rang out.
The gunmen surrounding the burning wine cellar fell to the ground as if struck by lightning. Before the two guarding the main entrance could react, a rifle barrel suddenly emerged from under the half-open roller shutter and unleashed a deadly barrage of fire.
Precise, short bursts of three rounds easily penetrated the useless car door cover, knocking the two former FBI agents to the ground almost immediately.
The .300BLK round used by the Noveske N4, while often criticized for its lack of power and mediocre ballistics, restricted to special operations, is still a rifle round.
At a distance of just over 20 meters, it could easily penetrate the thin metal sheets of an ordinary vehicle door.
Danny, who had rushed to the scene after spotting the unexpected blaze in the distance, stopped his car and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw a dusty Jack protecting Tyler into his Audi R8 sports car.
At the beckoning of Clay, who was wearing a ghillie suit, a group of FBI agents and NYPD officers exited their cars, handcuffed the gunmen who lay wailing on the ground.
Although Clay had spent half the night lying on the grass behind the bodega, bitten by mosquitoes, he remained relatively measured in his actions.
Two of the six gunmen were dead; the others could theoretically still be saved and should have been able to wait for an ambulance.
The two men in suits Jack had knocked down were also alive. They were both wearing bulletproof vests and were rolling on the ground, hugging their knees.
The bullets that penetrated the car door failed to penetrate the armor plates embedded in the vests, but that didn't stop Jack from firing two more shots into the lower bodies of the two men.
The human thigh joint structure is actually quite complex. Problems with either the patella or the meniscus, especially those caused by shattering bullets, usually mean that upright walking is essentially a lifespan.
"Agent Bogle, Agent Pete, oh, no, I should call you Mr. Bogle and Mr. Pete now. What? After leaving the FBI, you started working for criminals?" Just because
Jack didn't know their names didn't mean Jubal, who had previously been in charge of the field agents at the operations center, didn't remember them.
"Have you ever considered what would happen if your crimes were exposed and you were sent to prison, facing the criminals you once arrested?"
After checking with Hannah to make sure Taylor was alright, Jiejie approached the two men, looking at them with anger, but she still grabbed the first aid kit and began to staunch their bleeding.
Hannah, hands on her hips, glared down at the two men and said sarcastically, "Maybe they're not worried because they're useless and have never arrested a criminal themselves."
The sirens continued to wail from afar. In addition to the ambulance, the fire trucks also arrived.
After checking the scattered guns and ammunition, Danny returned to the car and retrieved two bottles of mineral water. He opened them and handed them to Jack, signaling him to wash the cigarette ash off his face, his tone tinged with mockery.
"Smoke bombs and stun grenades, as well as the gasoline they'd prepared in advance, your former colleagues went to great lengths to avoid a direct confrontation with you."
Jack shrugged speechlessly. While he hadn't capsized this time, it was a subtle reminder that the most formidable enemies were those who came from within and knew one well.
(End of Chapter)