American variety show: Sniper Elite

Chapter 66 Chaos
He positioned himself in a triangular firing position created by the corner of the wall and fired two shots at the oncoming police officers.

The first bullet pierced the fatal triangle formed by the throat and collarbone, the second aimed straight for the forehead. The wounded officer continued forward due to inertia, slamming heavily against the wall before slowly sliding down, leaving a glaring trail of blood.

Two gunshots suddenly rang out behind him. Beta felt two heavy blows to his back, "thud! thud!" His bulletproof vest absorbed the impact of the bullets. He used the force of the impact to brace himself against the wall and regain his balance. Before he could fully regain his balance, he raised his hand and returned fire, "bang bang!" hitting the agent who had ambushed him.

Beta quickly peeked out and scanned the area before immediately retreating back into cover. His right hand reached behind him, his fingertips touching two bullets deeply embedded in his body armor, still hot to the touch. He cautiously slipped his hand inside the vest lining, carefully feeling the skin on his back. Only after confirming there was no dampness did he pull his hand out to check; his palm was clean, without any bloodstains.

The bulletproof vest successfully stopped the bullet, and he secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

Beta whirled around, his gaze locking onto a figure hidden behind a concrete pillar. A police boot inadvertently peeked out from behind the pillar. Beta pulled the trigger, the bullet striking the exposed toe of the boot. With a piercing scream, an officer staggered and fell to the ground.

Without the slightest hesitation, Beta stepped forward and fired a follow-up shot. The bullet pierced the officer's skull, and the back of his head slammed heavily into the ground, his scream abruptly cut short.

At that moment, the pistol clicked shut, emptying its 15 rounds and locking the slide. Beta tossed aside his body armor, pressed the magazine release button with his thumb, and tossed the empty magazine aside. He pulled a spare magazine from his back waist, shoved it into the grip with a click, and pulled the slide back with his left hand to chamber a round.

Beta darted out from the corner, performing a forward roll to hide behind a nearby concrete pillar. The pursuing officers hastily opened fire, bullets whizzing and grazing the tiled floor.

Footsteps drew closer, and Beta held his breath, pressing himself against the pillar. The moment the officer appeared at the edge of the pillar, Beta fired a shot, striking the officer in the thigh. The officer doubled over in pain, and Beta used his left hand to deflect the officer's trembling gun barrel, then with his right hand, he delivered a vicious backhand slam, the metal grip slamming heavily into the officer's carotid artery.

Taking advantage of the moment when the other person was dizzy, Beta grabbed his right arm and executed a clean and swift over-the-shoulder throw. With a dull thud, the police officer slammed heavily into the fire-fighting water that had accumulated on the ground.

Just then, hurried footsteps approached. Beta instinctively lay down, wrapping her legs around the officer's right arm, locking her ankles together, and using her left hand to grab the officer's wrist, completing a ground armbar. The subdued officer struggled futilely in the sewage, only managing to make cracking sounds from his joints under the strain.

Beta raised his gun and fired two quick shots, taking down the officers who rushed out from behind the pillars on either side. Then he lowered the gun, pulled the trigger, and with a muffled thud as the bullet pierced their skulls, their struggling bodies instantly stiffened.

Beta crawled on the ground, crouching down as he looked around. He heard hurried footsteps behind him, and without hesitation, he rolled to the side and aimed his gun.

"Bang bang bang bang!" Four bullets whistled out in succession.

The agent at the front of the charge had two bursts of blood erupt from his chest and fell backward; his comrade who followed closely behind had just raised his gun when he was shot in the forehead and throat and fell heavily to the ground.

Gunshots echoed down the corridor, and wisps of smoke rose from Beta's gun barrel.

The entire floor fell silent for a moment, with only the walkie-talkies scattered on the ground still crackling and constantly transmitting urgent commands.

Beta crouched down, pulled a walkie-talkie from an agent's waist, and unplugged the headset. He stared at the flashing channel number on the display screen: A17.

Remembering the number, Beta clipped the device to his waist and plugged in his headset. Instantly, the complex commands from the encrypted channel clearly reached his ears: "Team B in position," "Block the east staircase," "Target may be carrying..."

Beta recalled the voice of the agent he had first encountered, the voice that questioned the channel number. His Adam's apple bobbed as he deliberately lowered his voice and adjusted his breathing. When his thumb pressed the talk button, his voice had transformed into that agent's distinctive tone: "Attention, target has broken through the encirclement! Repeat, target has broken through! Several of our agents have been shot; officer casualties are severe."

He deliberately made his voice sound hurried and breathless: "I am pursuing the target. All units, be on alert for friend or foe identification. Over."

Release the button, and a series of chaotic responses immediately erupted in the channel.

Beta hid behind several potted plants, holding his breath and waiting for his chance. As the adrenaline gradually subsided, his muscles began to tremble slightly uncontrollably.

He gritted his teeth and gently moved his back. Although the two bullets that had been fired were stopped by his bulletproof vest, the impact must have left bruises on his back.

As expected, accompanied by hurried footsteps, a large number of fully armed police officers and National Security Bureau agents swarmed in from the stairwell and elevator entrance, occupying the entire floor. Medical personnel followed closely behind, pushing stretchers and quickly entering the scene, plunging the area into chaos.

Taking advantage of the commotion, Beta smeared the blood on his sleeve, pretended to be injured, and mingled into the crowd while covering his "injured" left arm.

An agent's gaze lingered briefly on him, seemingly finding the face somewhat unfamiliar. But remembering the brief report on the walkie-talkie that "our own people are chasing the gunman," he ultimately didn't think much of it.

Surrounded by medical staff, Beta brazenly took the elevator downstairs. Unbeknownst to anyone, she was safely placed in an ambulance and left the scene without incident.
-

Medvedeva stared intently at the computer screen, her gaze firmly drawn to the live French news broadcast.

She turned to her deputy: "Remember Alexander Dugan, whom I asked you to investigate? Did you find any valuable information?"

After a moment's thought, the deputy replied, "We have indeed gathered some information, sir."

The deputy quickly returned to his desk, retrieved a file box, and then went back to Medvedeva's office.

“All the information about Alexander Dugan is here, sir.” The deputy placed the file box on the table, his tone slightly grave. “But you might not believe it, but the entire military’s archives system doesn’t contain a single clear photograph of him, nor any detailed records. The existing materials are all classified files that have been severely altered or redacted.”

While quickly flipping through the documents, Medvedeva asked without looking up, "So, is there any 'but' that could give me some hope?"

The deputy nodded: "Of course, sir."

He took a yellowed old photograph out of his pocket and gently placed it on Medvedeva's desk: "I found someone who knew Alexander Dugan; they were high school classmates. This photo is a picture of them together from back then."

Medvedeva picked up the photo with surprise, saw the person in it, and immediately recognized him: "It's him!"

(End of this chapter)