"This is Russell, who are you?"
"Officer Russell, this is Max. I remember you saved my number and the name."
Russell heard this and looked at the caller ID on his phone. The note was 'Unlucky Guy'. He calmly ignored the details and continued: "What's the matter? I'm at work and it's not convenient to answer the phone."
"Can you tell me where you are now?"
"Manhattan!"
"It's like this..."
On the phone, Max added fuel to the fire and talked a lot of nonsense, which made Russell's expression keep changing.
"A tall, middle-aged killer with a teenage girl, and the killer may be a perverted abductor... Max, are you serious?"
"Well, he may not be a killer or a kidnapper. He is just a suspicion. Just a suspicion."
Max laughed awkwardly, paused and continued: "But we cannot rule out this possibility. You know, this is New York. With a large population, the probability of perversion is very high."
"I understand. I'll go back after I solve the matter at hand. As for you and Caroline, don't be too curious to visit that family and just stay on the first floor."
After hanging up the phone, Russell was extremely speechless. He was so sleepy that he gave him a pillow, which came at the right time.
Just when he was thinking about where to find the combination of uncle and loli, the other party arrived at his door and was bumped into by the unlucky sisters.
Is he too lucky, or are these unlucky people too unlucky?
Killer Leon's matter is not urgent for the time being, and there is no point in rushing. With the bad traffic in New York, it will take some time to get back to Brooklyn from Manhattan.
Fortunately, he has basically completed his tasks today and is on his way back to Brooklyn without encountering the rush hour.
Stanfield's lover was a nymphomaniac. Without saying a word, Russell made him repent with his handsome face. He told the story of the crime in tears and took the initiative to record the crime and help take photos of the evidence.
Finally, she opened the safe, took out the key evidence, and moved the stacks of ledgers onto the Camaro sports car.
The evidence is solid!
All that is needed next is a witness and a confession from Stanfield, and this guy is dead.
In fact, the evidence is enough. Even if Stanfield denies death or death, it will not change the outcome of his imprisonment.
But Russell really wanted to meet this Sheriff. After all, it was Sirius + Sheriff Gordon, and he might be given the skill of 'Avada Kedavra'.
The traffic ahead suddenly became congested. Russell looked at the long queue with a speechless expression. He said it was not during the morning and evening rush hours, so why was there a traffic jam?
He lowered the window and heard the continuous sounds of gunfire and explosions in his ears. Then he looked at the calm passers-by around him and felt that New Yorkers were skillfully making people feel distressed.
He took out the bulletproof vest from his pocket, fastened the magazine and M9 on his waist, put on his Terminator sunglasses, and walked out of the car carrying the 5.56mm M4A1 rifle.
At this time, a passerby taking pictures with his mobile phone happened to catch Russell's back and the white letters on the back of the bulletproof vest - NYPD!
…
boom! ! !
On the main road, red fireballs rose into the sky. Thirty meters apart on the road, two groups of people were fighting.
On one side were the New York police, who were outnumbered, and on the other side were the Mexican gangs who were armed to the teeth. They were armed with heavy weapons, wearing body armor, and used several cars as a defensive line. beat back.
Gunshots continued, gun smoke could be seen everywhere, and the chaotic streets were like battlefields, adding a fierce fire to the approaching coolness of New York.
"This is a live broadcast from the news station. Two mounted policemen were seriously injured in the firefight. The police failed to get close after several attacks. We can see that the two mounted policemen lost serious blood. If no rescue is carried out, they will most likely die in the line of duty. .”
"This is a live broadcast brought to you by ABC. The scene is completely out of control, just like the hell described by Dante. The smoke, gunfire and the arrogant laughter of madmen have turned the streets of New York into a slaughterhouse..."
"A large number of police officers cannot bring victory. They have the most sophisticated weapons, but in fact they are a bunch of idiots. A dozen drug dealers can suppress them until they can't hold their heads up..."
"..."
Fighting on the front line with the police are also New York reporters who are fearless and risk their lives to broadcast live. Some cameras are even farther forward than the police.
It can be seen from this that competition among American imperialist radio and television networks is fierce.
"Chief, what's going on ahead?"
Russell Cat asked the middle-aged man wearing a golden police badge from behind a car.
Without looking back, the sergeant raised his gun and pulled the trigger, leaning against the car to change the magazine: "Damn Mexicans, they were blocked by the anti-narcotics police and went crazy on the street..."
After saying this, the Sheriff looked at Russell speechlessly: "Who are you, the new guy?"
"No, I'm from Brooklyn, and I happened to be stuck in a traffic jam while passing by, so..."
"OK, no matter where you are from, I have the final say now. Listen to my orders later and don't show off and go up to die. Do you understand?"
The police chief warned Russell with wide eyes. He was annoyed by the dazed young man. He was actually wearing sunglasses on the battlefield. Who was he showing off to?
This is a battlefield, not a cool bar or nightclub. No girl can scream!
"Okay, but those two troopers are in dire need of rescue."
Russell shrugged. Although the sergeant had a bad tone, he was generally a good man, so he didn't care about anything.
"I know, I'm already making arrangements!"
The Sheriff angrily slapped Russell, pulled out his walkie-talkie and roared: "Where are the heavy weapons and armored vehicles? Don't tell me they were dragged into the war. If they don't show up within thirty seconds, audiences across the United States will be able to see our incompetence, and Two police officers bled to death right under our noses!!!”
The Sheriff was very angry, but it was of no use. The Mexican gang had previously shot down the helicopter with a rocket launcher. The weapons of both sides were obviously not of the same level.
Seeing a fanatic setting up a machine gun, Russell was speechless. He was sure this was a movie plot, otherwise in reality...
Well, maybe that's true in New York.
"Sergeant, they can't hold on any longer. I'll cover them and let your people carry the stretcher over." After Russell finished speaking, he got up and walked forward.
"Come back here, you fucking bastard, you're not Superman."
The police chief reached out and grabbed it, but found nothing. He cursed in his heart that the newcomer was trouble. Three seconds later, he was stunned and began to doubt life.
Russell held the M4A1 in his hand and turned on the burst mode. After standing up, the first bullet was sent to the gang member who had set up the heavy machine gun.
One shot to the head, neat and clean.
A dozen Mexican gangsters opened fire, and then five of them stood up, pointed at Russell, and pulled the trigger.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
In an instant, five bullets were fired continuously. In almost the blink of an eye, all five people were shot in the head and died neatly. It took less than a second.
The smoke-filled streets suddenly calmed down. Russell held his gun and moved forward. He soon passed by two seriously injured mounted policemen.
He lowered his head slightly and continued to move forward expressionlessly. At this time, a hand stretched out from the defense line of the Mexican gang's car, and the grenade held between the five fingers was about to be thrown.
Bang!
There was a gunshot, the arm was broken, the grenade fell to the ground, and seven or eight people jumped out amid a burst of yelling.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang————
A gunshot represents a human life. With several madmen in the air, the flower of life blooms instantly and then withers like scarlet blood.
Boom! !
The slow grenade exploded, shattering the car glass and blowing hot waves.
The fireball reflected on Russell's sunglasses. He took three steps forward, suddenly turned the gun, and shot in the head the gang member who was preparing to release the black gun in the street store.
Then, the gun froze in mid-air as a gang member hijacked the waitress in the store, pointing the gun at her head and crouching behind her.
"Go away, stay away from me, and drop your gun!"
Witnessing Russell killing people like chickens and killing all his companions in an understatement, this gang member was so excited because of fear that the hand holding the gun trembled.
The waitress was even worse. She was in tears, her legs were too weak to walk, and she had a mental breakdown.
"Don't get excited. You are already surrounded. There is no need to fight stubbornly."
Russell lowered his gun: "How about this, I will find you a negotiator, and he will give you a car. In exchange, how about letting this lady go first?"
"Shut up, I told you to drop the gun!"
The gang member's hand holding the gun trembled crazily. Russell curled his lips slightly and raised his hand to throw the M4A1 to the ground.
The next second, the gang members lost their minds, pushed away the unconscious waitress, and pointed their black guns at Russell.
Bang!
There was a gunshot, and Russell put away his M9. The gang members fell to their knees limply, with a hole in front of their heads and nothing behind them.
"..."xN
The main road was completely silent. The reporter on the street forgot to explain, and the camera stared blankly at Russell picking up the M4A1 and blowing away the dust.
Not only them, but even the police officers on the scene were all dumbfounded. The stretcher used to rescue the injured stopped on the spot. The two seriously injured patients stopped moaning and looked at Russell as if they were looking at God.
They said they couldn't understand whether the bullets were fired, the guns were shot in the head, or they were still on a chaotic battlefield.
This is not making a movie!
On the high building, a figure hidden in the dark watched all this silently, scanning Russell's face to locate him as the next hunting target.
If Russell felt something, he raised his head and glanced around, shrugging and not paying much attention.
The police chief stepped forward and punched Russell on the shoulder. His face was distorted with excitement: "Boy, you are so damn handsome. I like your sunglasses. What's your name?"
"Russell, the number is..."
"I don't want to know the number. I just want to know if you are interested in coming to work in Manhattan. If you dare to refuse me, I will kill you."
"Forget it, I don't have a very friendly reputation."
Russell curled his lips slightly and showed a pained expression when he saw the swarm of reporters rushing towards him. He quickly reported his branch number and his number to the police chief, asking him to go to the chief if he had anything to do.
With that, Russell bypassed the cordon, and reporters were ordered not to enter the area of the firefight.
The camera took a long close-up of Russell's back. His gun-carrying posture showed the loneliness of a master, and the news spread to thousands of households...
This is the time to get popular!
