American variety show: Sniper Elite

Chapter 137 Operation (Part Two) - Two Updates

At that very moment, a deafening roar of engines came from the other end of the street.

A heavy truck fully loaded with steel roared toward the convoy of police cars, its diesel engine belching out thick black smoke and leaving a trail in its wake. Despite the police cars sirens blaring, the truck did not slow down at all, pressing the accelerator to the floor.

"哐——!"

A deafening metallic clang rang out.

The truck, traveling at 80 kilometers per hour, slammed into the front of police car number 1. The moment of impact, the police car's aluminum hood was easily torn open like tin foil, sending twisted metal fragments flying everywhere. The front bumper snapped off under the immense impact, flying more than ten meters away.

Under the impact, the windshield first cracked, then shattered into countless tiny tempered glass particles with a "crack." The police car's A-pillar twisted and deformed under the immense pressure, and the roof caved in as if struck by a giant's hand. Although the driver's side airbag deployed in time, the deformed steering wheel was deeply embedded in the police officer's chest, and blood continued to gush from the corner of his mouth.

The heavy truck's steel crash barriers were deeply embedded in the police car's body, squeezing the entire cab to less than half its original size. The police car's fuel tank ruptured under the violent impact, and gasoline dripped down the twisted frame, forming a shimmering area on the asphalt road.

The aftershocks of the impact are still raging.

Propelled by the heavy truck, the wreckage of Police Car No. 1 slammed into Police Car No. 2 like an out-of-control cannonball. With a muffled thud, the engine compartment of Police Car No. 2 collapsed, and broken metal parts from the front axle flew everywhere. The airbags deployed upon impact, and the massive force slammed the two officers inside into their seats. Their heads snapped back violently from the airbag impact, and they immediately fell unconscious.

The truck's engine was still roaring, its tires were spinning wildly on the ground, and pungent white smoke from the friction between the rubber and the asphalt was billowing out.

The wreckage of police cars 1 and 2 was pushed backward by the brute force, the metal slamming against each other with a shrill sound. Finally, the two deformed police car wrecks crashed heavily into police car 3, denting and deforming its hood and flipping its trunk lid up like a piece of paper.

Only then did the wreckage of police car number 1, stuck under the front of the heavy truck, finally bring the steel behemoth to a stop. The twisted chassis of the police car was firmly wedged against the front wheels of the heavy truck, and parts from the engine compartment were scattered all over the ground, mixed with engine oil and antifreeze, forming an oil slick on the road.

The officers in police cars 3 and 4 hadn't even recovered from the chain reaction of collisions when a deafening roar of a diesel engine came from behind. The officer in police car 4 turned around in horror to see a large recycling truck loaded with garbage, its high beams on, hurtling towards them.

The steel crash bars of the recycling truck gleamed in the sunlight. Instead of slowing down, it floored the accelerator. Inside the cab, the driver's face was contorted, his eyes flashing with a crazed light.

Amid the officers' despairing gazes, the 20-ton steel behemoth slammed into the rear of police car number 4, propelling the entire vehicle forward for more than ten meters until it crashed into a fire hydrant on the roadside.

A high-pressure water jet shot into the sky, forming a rainbow in the sunlight, a stark contrast to the mess on the street.

Police car number 3 narrowly escaped being crushed, but the officers and witnesses inside, barely catching their breath, were already facing a new threat. An inconspicuous gray van parked on the street slid open its side door, the metal tracks screeching. A tall figure wearing a black skull mask appeared behind the door, the 7.62mm AKM assault rifle gleaming in the sunlight.

Beta stood steadily inside the van, his legs slightly apart for balance. A disc-shaped 75-round drum magazine hung from the bottom of his AKM rifle. His finger rested on the trigger, his sights locked firmly on the No. 3 police car, whose engine was emitting a coughing sound.

"Da da da--"

A series of deafening gunshots rang out in the chaotic street. 7.62mm bullets roared out at a rate of 600 rounds per minute, the muzzle flashes particularly glaring in the dimly lit van, and the gun trembled violently in his hand with each bullet leaving the barrel.

The first volley of shots pierced the police car's windows, shattering the tempered glass into countless tiny fragments. The bullets, carrying a scorching heat, traced visible trajectories inside the vehicle. Before the officers inside could even draw their pistols, the bullets had already penetrated the seats and ricocheted wildly within the car.

Beta calmly adjusted his firing angle, and the second volley of bullets swept across the area. Each bullet exploded in a burst of orange-red sparks upon hitting metal, riddling the police car door with bullet holes. A ricocheting bullet struck the witness in the shoulder, and blood splattered onto the deformed inside of the door. The officers inside the car made futile attempts to return fire with their pistols, but against such overwhelming firepower, it was all in vain.

The van reeked of gunpowder, and spent shell casings clattered onto the metal floor, piling up at Beta's feet. The smoke from burning gunpowder created a thin mist inside, mingling with the acrid smell of metal rubbing together.

As the last spent cartridge case clattered to the ground and the drum magazine clicked as it emptied, the entire street fell into a brief, deathly silence.

Panic then erupted among the crowd like a plague. Passersby scattered and fled like frightened birds.

A woman in high heels tripped and fell to the ground, her briefcase scattering documents everywhere; a well-dressed office worker dropped his coffee, the brown liquid spilling onto the asphalt; a young couple clung tightly to each other's wrists, stumbling and rushing toward the nearest alleyway.

Cars at both ends of the street braked sharply, the screeching of tires echoing everywhere. A taxi driver flung open his car door, not even having time to remove the key, and scurried away. His car door lurched forward due to inertia, the meter still beeping.

Police car number 3 sat there silently, its body riddled with bullet holes clearly visible in the sunlight, turning it into a smoky metal sieve. Blood seeped continuously from the gaps in the deformed doors, meandering down the sloping road. A drop of blood clung to the door handle, swaying gently in the breeze, before finally falling with a "plop" into the dark red stream.

Beta slowly lowered the AKM, which was still emitting blue smoke, and coldly watched the chaos he had created through the eye holes of his skull mask.

He reached down and pulled the sliding door of the van shut. In the distance, sirens were growing louder, but it was too late; the meticulously planned massacre was over.

(End of this chapter)