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Without surveillance, Jack could use his invincibility freely. All he had to do was move the body slightly and fire a few more shots at the vital parts.
Human anatomy and crime scene reconstruction skills, when applied in reverse, could become powerful "murder" skills, much like chemistry is used to destroy evidence and create poison.
Jack came in somewhat irritated today, not because of the unplanned incident with Reese, but because if something were to happen to Caroline Turing, like Simmons killing her, he wouldn't know what to do next.
Being backstabbed by one of his own people was what really irritated him.
They knew he was a good shot and a strong fighter, so they just blocked the door and set it on fire, right? What if
he were to be happily driving down the road singing songs when a drone, thousands of meters above him, launched an AGM-114R9X missile with a "blade" warhead, designed for targeted elimination, and literally sliced him to pieces?
Other protagonists travel across North America, either committing murder and arson, defying the federal government, or even outright becoming terrorists.
But Jack, on his own, keeps a low profile, toiling away for the FBI to fight criminals. To earn a little extra cash, he also racks his brains writing novels and screenplays, contributing to the spiritual well-being of North Americans. Only to be targeted by internal traitors.
If it were another Long Aotian, he wouldn't have stormed the White House with a sword and decapitated the president, but he'd at least have killed the FBI Director, a traitor who'd spent decades as a corrupt official, like Edgar Hoover.
Otherwise, how could he have amassed readers' subscriptions, rewards, and monthly votes?
So Jack sometimes misses the anthropomorphic screenwriters of his past life, but unfortunately, he's never encountered a single film or TV series based on their mindless scripts.
Of course, that might be a blessing in disguise. If he were to encounter a "correct" series like those madly critical writers of Marvel, Jack would be utterly disgusted, even with cheats to protect him from death.
But despite his simmering anger, Jack remained cautious.
Although Finch claimed the building's surveillance cameras were all offline, who knew if the cameras in a high-end hotel like this had an offline recording feature? He only dared to take a short stroll through the unobstructed security corridor.
Facing the overwhelming firepower of the pursuers, armed with both submachine guns and fully automatic rifles, Jack, the rearguard, could only fight and retreat with only his Noveske N4.
He could, of course, yell something like "FBI, you're surrounded!" to scare the enemy, but he was afraid of scaring Simmons away.
Neither Dana Moger nor Frank Reagan wanted him to resort to extreme means to eliminate Quin Alonzo, the mastermind behind "HR." Therefore, capturing Simmons alive became his only option.
Simmons was the only known "HR" contact to have met Quin Alonzo face-to-face. Even if he couldn't prove he was the "HR" boss, he could at least convict him and send him to prison, thereby clearing the way for Reagan Sr. to become mayor of New York City.
After a narrow escape from the 25th floor to the -4th floor, Jack's ammunition was nearly exhausted. After emptying the last magazine with a long burst of fire, he tossed his Noveske N4 and pulled out his spare FK7.5.
This was a deliberate move to make the enemy think he was out of ammunition; after all, fishing requires a certain balance of relaxation and respite.
As for his own sidearm, the SIG Sauer P320-XTen, was now in Reese's possession; the Glock he'd previously used was long empty.
The three of them circled the -4th floor underground parking garage for a while before finally finding the abandoned maintenance passage. Just then, Finch reported that he was at the water treatment plant exit.
Reese struggled to push open a rusted iron door, peered into the passage, and said, "Jack, take Ms. Turing and leave. I'll cover your retreat."
Jack thought to himself, "You're not going to cover your retreat. The only surveillance cameras in the hotel's underground parking lot are at the checkpoint. If this guy had taken his men away, I'd just go off and fire my Wushuang. "
Besides, Aubrey and Fusco were coming down with backup. It was this guy who should be leaving. If the NYPD and the FBI got caught, and someone connected him to the "suit guy" of urban legend, that would be a disaster.
Jack didn't bother talking nonsense. He waved impatiently at Reese, signaling him to leave.
Reese took "Gen's" hand and escorted her into the maintenance tunnel. Jack was about to close the iron gate when he saw the guy come out again.
"Just keep going down this hallway and you'll run into my friend. We'll hold them off," Reese said to "Gen Mei" before pulling the iron gate shut.
"Gen Mei" was touched, and through the door, she solemnly thanked him. "Thank you, John (Reese), and you, right, Jack?"
Jack met her gaze and couldn't help but smile quirkily. "You're welcome, Ms. Turing. I'm sure we'll see each other again soon."
"I'll get Ms. Turing to safety and then come back for you, John," Finch said through his headset.
—
"How long will it take for backup to arrive?"
Jack fired two shots into the hallway, knocking an approaching gunman to the ground. He could already see Simmons, hiding at the back, his face etched with rage.
Three or four minutes had passed since he and Reese had moved from escorting "Gen Mei" away. By this time, they were truly running out of ammunition and supplies.
"Anytime, I just got off the phone with them a minute ago," Finch replied. "Ah, I think I saw Ms. Turing."
But the next second, Jack and Reese simultaneously heard a strange, slightly older female voice through their headsets. "Harold Finch, is that you?"
"You're really hard to find, Harold."
"I don't know who you are."
"Forget it, we've met before, remember? Nathan said you were just an ordinary TI engineer in his company. He's the best at that, downplaying the important points."
"What do you want to talk to me about? Alicia."
"Who's Alicia? Finch, are you okay?" Reese asked hurriedly, sensing something was wrong.
"Empty gun! Reload!" Jack's loud warning instantly brought Reese back to the battle in front of him. He quickly dodged from behind a pillar and fired several shots to help suppress and cover.
Meanwhile, the conversation on the other end of the line continued. The unfamiliar female voice continued, "Simple, you created God, and now you have to help me shut it down."
"Get out! Finch is in danger! He needs you!" Jack replaced the last magazine and waved to Reese.
Reese hesitated. Although he knew Jack was a capable fighter, in this situation, leaving would be like abandoning his comrades.
As the counterattacks paused, Simmons, advancing from the other side, seemed to finally see the goddess of victory lift her skirts in his favor and burst into a hearty laugh.
"Looks like you have no chance, my friend. Urban legend, right? Man in a suit? Hahahaha."
At this moment, like the final curtain call of a satirical comedy, sirens blared simultaneously from both entrances and exits of the parking lot, echoing piercingly in the vast, enclosed underground space, sounding like death-threatening notes to Simmons' ears.
"Move!" Jack urged Reese hurriedly.
This time, without hesitation, he dodged and dashed towards the iron gate leading to the abandoned maintenance passage.
(End of Chapter)