The World of American Drama: From the Los Angeles Patrol

Chapter 308 The Vengeful Father

When Pete was stunned again and stuffed into the trunk of the Raptor, he never expected that less than three hours had passed since he was kidnapped.

Jack didn't have time to spend a few days with him. The so-called "water-drip torture" he tried only lasted for less than an hour and a half, and the guy was on the verge of collapse.

The dark and quiet environment, coupled with Jack's hints in expressions and words, is just a rough psychological inducement, making Pete think that he has been tortured for a whole day.

However, in fact, it was almost past midnight now, and this cold night had just begun, as the wheels ran over the ruts that had just been frozen not long ago, and the mixture of ice slag and muddy water was thrown high.

After receiving the news of Chris' "birds returning home", a convoy twice as long as the previous few days appeared again on the simple road leading to the drilling camp.

Cory Lambert was still the first car on the road. When he stopped the car and left the cab, the off-road vehicles and SUVs of different models also pulled over and turned off their engines and turned off their lights.

Jack used his flashlight to beckon everyone to come closer to him, but was startled when he saw his and Martin Hansen's faces.

"What did you put on your face?"

"This is the face of death drawn by the shaman before the tribal warriors fought."

Corey said, pointing to the colorful pile of paint on his face.

"White represents sorrow and mourning, red represents war and energy, black represents bravery and aggression, and yellow represents the determination to fight to the death."

"Do you still know this?" Jack was a little surprised. The shaman tradition of the Indians should have been cut off long ago.

The Indians in the Wind River Valley Reservation basically belong to the Eastern Shoshone Tribe and the Northern Arapaho Tribe, but no matter which one of them they are, their civilization inheritance has long been cut off by white people.

Most of them can't even speak their own language, how can anyone know shaman painting?
"I found the meaning of the color on Google, and I figured out the pattern by myself. No one has understood it for a long time." Martin Hansen's words made everyone fall into silence.

"Corey said I shouldn't run away from pain, and I thought he was right, so I decided to study the Sirians from the east, and I've heard they have the same skin color as us and may even have the same ancestors."

"I want to learn to be like them, to pray to my ancestors, to gain the courage and strength to give my enemies blood for blood."

"Uh, you will." The atmosphere was a bit tragic, making Jack unable to spit out his stomach, so he simply shut up.

After assigning their respective tasks, Jane and Alia stayed behind, while the others drove snowmobiles and galloped towards their respective positions of responsibility.

The tribal policemen were in teams of two, and were responsible for surrounding the camp from three directions: east, west, east, and west. Their task was to intercept the enemies who might escape, and to provide timely reinforcements in case of accidents.

The north is the only direction of attack, and Chris and Mr. Hunter, one with a Barrett MRAD and one with his own lever shotgun, are responsible for long-range sniping.

Jack took Braxton and Martin Hansen and was responsible for the frontal attack.

Finally, there is Justin, who sits in the tribal police station. Through the wireless network intruded by the bridge signal, she remotely controls all the electronic equipment in the camp, cutting off the last chance for the security guards to ask for help.

It was 3 o'clock in the morning, and the night was getting dark. The three of Jack quietly walked around behind the prefabricated room used as a security dormitory, and sent a signal to Chris and the others to be in place.

The security dormitory was brightly lit and smoky. I don't know if it was because of the high alert for several days that made these guys suffocate, and they were yelling and making noise.

Some gathered to play cards and gamble, and some smoked American herbal medicine, unaware that the scythe of death was already resting on their necks.

In the real world, infrared imaging cannot penetrate walls, so it is impossible to see individual infrared figures through the walls of a room like in movies.

There is wall-penetrating radar, but this kind of technology requires the device to be close to the wall to roughly see the outline of a person, and it cannot allow snipers to shoot down the people in the room one by one from hundreds of meters away.

Fortunately, Jack is very experienced. After experiencing the prison crisis, he has mastered the technique of how to smoke the rat out of the hole.

"Do it!" With his low growl, two completely different gunshots sounded at the same time.

Barrett MRAD guns are dull and powerful, and Marlin 1895 lever-action rifle guns are crisp and sweet. The two bullets, . Thin insulation.

Along with the exclamation and screams in the room, the AR-15 in Braxton's hand sounded at the same time, smashing the window glass on the other side of the prefabricated house.

Amid the cracking sound of glass, Jack waved his arm quickly, and four tear gas shots were accurately thrown into it.

It was like a rat hole filled with cigarettes. Within a few minutes, several doors were kicked open one after another, and several figures rushed out with guns in hand and yelling.

There is no shelter in the open snow, whether it is an infrared night vision device or a low-light night vision device, it can allow two snipers to easily kill their prey.

There were a few guys who hadn’t hit the jackpot yet, and their minds were still clear. When they found a sniper ambushing in front of them, they secretly opened the back door and tried to escape from the back of the house. They were easily shot and killed by the three Jacks who were waiting.

There was no suspense in the battle. In less than 10 minutes, all the security guards who fled outside fell into the snow.

"Counting the bodies, there are 4 people behind the house." Jack said on the intercom.

"Five people in front of the house." Before Chris could finish speaking in the distance, Martin Hansen beside Braxton couldn't wait to jump out.

"Damn it!" Jack and Braxton hurriedly followed.

There were at least two other people in the house. Chris and Colin had previously observed through the window and shot through the wall. Although the calibers of their two guns were both capable of hitting dinosaurs, what if it was just a scratch.

Braxton, who was concerned about his father-in-law, rushed into the prefabricated house immediately. After passing through two rooms, he froze in place suddenly, and Jack also said that he was quite frightened when he came in.

In a messy room, a corpse had a large hole in its chest and was lying in a pool of blood. The one lying on one side was none other than an acquaintance, Sergey Meyers.

This guy was supposed to have only been scratched by shrapnel on his legs, and he was leaning against the holed wall to survive, but he was startled by Martin Hansen who suddenly rushed in with his face painted brightly.

Just when he reacted and was about to raise his pistol to fight back, his arm was stepped on by the angry father.

Martin Hansen directly threw away the rifle in his hand, pulled out an Indian hand ax from the back of his waist, chopped off Sergey Meyers' right hand with one axe, then stepped on his chest, and swung the axe violently Down.

　Let's get some monthly tickets, it's almost the end of the month.
　　
　
(End of this chapter)