The real life of an American police officer: Winning over others with virtue

Chapter 279 The storm is coming
at the same time.

Miguel, who had just come out of the house, was about to head towards the low house on the right to call out to Woven, who always preferred to be alone.

I don't know if all snipers have this problem.

Just as he was walking towards the low house, he vaguely sensed that the outside world seemed a bit too...
Just like in the dead of night, even though you're in a quiet space, you always feel like something's not right outside.

Moreover, at this time of day, the streetlights on the distant highway would normally cast a faint, diffused light, but tonight, that area was swallowed up by a huge black velvet cloth.

Miguel frowned and knocked on the door of the low house.

"Sheen wants to call you and say he wants to do another review."

Inside the low-ceilinged house, Woven was wiping the barrel of his Remington 700 sniper rifle with gentle, focused movements, as if handling a precious work of art.

Upon hearing the sound, Woven, who was wiping the cold floating barrel with a cotton cloth, suddenly paused, his brow furrowing imperceptibly, a hint of annoyance crossing his mind.

He hates being disturbed during the quiet preparation period before a mission.

"I heard you," Woven replied in a low voice, but did not get up immediately.

He finished wiping it clean one last time, then carefully placed the rifle back on the old table cushion and stood up reluctantly.

Wavin opened the slightly warped wooden door. The subtle pressure difference between the inside and outside of the low house caused the door to make a soft sound. Then, he stepped out of the stuffy, gun-oil-smelling air inside and into the cool night breeze outside.

In the midst of this coming and going, he paused for a moment.

An indescribable sense of unease enveloped him.

Just as the room was quiet, once you stepped outside, you could feel that the silence of the entire building was different from usual.

It was too quiet, not because there was no sound, but because of a silence that had been deliberately suppressed.

"What's wrong?" Miguel saw Woven standing frozen at the door, and his heart skipped a beat as if they were sensing each other's presence.

"You sensed something was wrong too?"

Woven's eyes narrowed, he raised a finger to shush Miguel, signaling him to be quiet, and began to hold his breath and listen intently.

This time, standing in a more open environment, the sound became a little clearer.

A faint, intermittent sound, like the steady hum of a high-frequency motor, came from the distant horizon, yet seemed to be everywhere.

This is definitely not the sound of nature.

A chill ran down Woven's spine, and a cold premonition snaked up his spine. Without explaining to Miguel, he turned abruptly and rushed back into the low house.

Woven quickly grabbed his sniper rifle, went to the doorway, raised the gun, and pressed the cold goggles against his right eye.

At the same time, he rapidly rotated the magnification ring of the scope, the crosshairs sweeping across all the dark areas he could see like a searchlight: tree canopies, rooftops, street corners, shadows...

Ultimately, his crosshairs were fixed several dozen meters away, in the shadows of a street corner.

There was a car parked there, a black and white painted vehicle.

There is a row of very inconspicuous low-profile light strips on the roof.

Under the high magnification of the scope, Woven could even vaguely see the silhouette of the man wearing a patrol hat in the driver's seat.

The next second, his camera suddenly swung to the side.

In another direction, in the shadows of another side road, there was another patrol car of the same kind.

Woven felt as if a cold hand was gripping his heart, the air seemed to freeze, and the heaviness made it hard for him to breathe.

"Fuck!" Waven choked out a curse through gritted teeth, then looked at the stunned Miguel and said in a deep voice.

"We're surrounded! There are police everywhere! Go tell Sheehan! The plan is ruined! We're trapped!"

Miguel's face darkened, and he turned and headed straight for the main house.

Woven followed closely behind. The three people in the main house were still calmly preparing for everything.

The main house door was suddenly kicked open, and the loud noise immediately attracted everyone's attention.

Sheen frowned as he looked at Miguel, whose face was so dark it could drip water, and at Warvin, his heart slowly sinking to the bottom.

"What happened!"

"Cops! There are cops everywhere! We're surrounded!" Miguel's voice was sharp and shrill from extreme fear and inexplicable anger. He looked sharply at Armand, who was standing there stunned and pale, and rushed over.

"Fuck! It's all because of you! I should have found a chance to kill you!"

As soon as he finished speaking, Miguel, his expression contorted, had already drawn his knife.

But Sheen, with a grim face, stepped in front and kicked Miguel away. The kick was powerful and heavy, hitting Miguel precisely in the chest as he charged forward, making a muffled thud.

Miguel's momentum came to an abrupt halt. He staggered back several steps, only managing to regain his footing after crashing into a wooden frame. The small knife in his hand clattered to the ground.

He clutched his chest, staring at Sheen in disbelief, his eyes filled with anger, resentment, and confusion.

“You fucking kicked me! It was him! It was that bastard Armand who brought the cops here!” Miguel roared, his voice distorted by pain and rage.

"Shut your mouth! Pick up your knife!" Sheen said in a deep voice, his eyes sweeping over Miguel like knives, then suddenly turning to the other people in the room, including Ryan, who was stunned by the sudden infighting, and Woven, who was staring intently at Armand and remained silent.

"Can't you tell the situation? There are police everywhere outside! This isn't the time to find someone to take responsibility!"

Sheehan's temples bulged with agitation: "This is the moment that will decide whether we get riddled with bullets here or someone manages to escape alive! If you want to live, do the fucking what I say!"

These words instantly snapped Miguel out of his daze of fear and anger. He stared intently at Armand, but eventually bent down and picked up the knife from the ground.

Armand's face was pale, but his eyes were unusually complicated, showing a momentary panic at being accused and surprise at Sheen's attack.

He didn't look at Miguel, but at Sheen, his voice hoarse: "Sheen, it's me."

“Shut up too!” Sheen interrupted him rudely, his eyes cold.

"Your score can be settled if you manage to get out of here alive. Right now, you, me, and everyone here are all in the same boat!"

He pointed sharply outside: "They want to bury us all here! If we want to live, there's only one word: fight! Fight them until they're too scared to show their faces! Only then will we have a sliver of hope!"

-

at the same time.

At the same time that Wavin spotted the police car and rushed into the main house with Miguel.

Rafe was having a bit of a headache because of the real-time footage from thermal imaging and drones, as well as reports from his subordinates.

He always felt that he didn't know when it started and that he couldn't keep up with the changes.

With such an obvious signal, how could he not understand that the other side had discovered their encirclement?

But why didn't we act first and then they found out?
Rafe glanced subconsciously at Eric, who was leaning against a patrol car on the outside. When did this start?
But now that things have come to this, we can't just do nothing and let them get away.

But the plan has to be changed.

Rafe glanced at his team members; the heavy battering ram, the gleaming muzzles of rifles, and all sorts of specialized equipment were in place.

He gritted his teeth and spoke into the microphone next to his ear.

"Attention all units, target appears to have been detected. Severe movement of heat source observed, suspected internal conflict. Terminate stealth mode."

The operator of Air One drone raised the drone to a safe altitude, activated the wide-angle monitoring mode, and said, "I want a bird's-eye view of the entire area. I'm turning on the loudspeaker and preparing to make a message."

All perimeter patrol units, on my orders, immediately use vehicles to completely block all street entrances within a 200-meter radius and set up physical roadblocks.

I'm determined to keep even a single cat from escaping. Turn on all the sirens; I'll use the lights to put psychological pressure on them!

(End of this chapter)