You're a US police officer, what are you thinking about going back to the East for?

Lyon strode across the puddles and immediately saw Miller kneeling on the ground, and Bob lying in a mixture of blood and water.

Miller's hands were covered in blood, and he was trembling all over, but he didn't let up, pressing the bandage tightly to stop the bleeding.

"They've applied a tourniquet! But the bleeding is too heavy! If we don't get a blood transfusion soon..."

Miller shouted incoherently, his face streaked with what looked like rain or tears.

Leon crouched down and quickly glanced at the wound.

Thankfully, although it looked frightening, with penetrating wounds on the shoulder and abdomen, and some of the styptic powder had been washed away by the rain, it wasn't spurting arterial bleeding.

Miller's first aid lessons were definitely worthwhile; he applied the tourniquet perfectly.

"Well done, Miller."

Leon patted the newcomer who was on the verge of collapse.

"Since he didn't die on the spot, he's not going to die. That old bastard's got a tough life."

Then, Lyon noticed that Ward's reaction seemed rather strange.

This usually gloomy man suddenly threw Remington into the water and knelt down with a thud.

"Bob! Look at me! Don't sleep! You fucking don't sleep!"

He grabbed Bob's uninjured shoulder and shook him violently, his eyes bloodshot, his whole body in a state of extreme tension and stress.

"Damn it! Why is it happening again! Open your eyes!!"

Leon frowned, glancing at Ward; this reaction was far too extreme.

To be honest, he didn't have much of a personal relationship with Ward. The guy was perpetually gloomy, like a living dead, and he hadn't bothered to inquire about his past.

It now appears that Ward may have severe PTSD, or that his former partner may have died in front of him.

"Command center! This is 1-William-20, how much longer until emergency services arrive?!"

Leon grabbed his shoulder and roared.

"Due to heavy rain and traffic congestion, it is estimated that it will take another two minutes."

"Two minutes? The daylily buds will be cold by then!"

Lyon cursed and made a snap decision.

That Mustang is definitely still running; if we delay any longer, we'll completely lose track of it in the heavy rain. The American surveillance system is a complete mess; we can't rely on it.

I can't keep dragging this out any longer!

He suddenly stood up and grabbed Mia, who was still in a daze, and pulled her over.

"Mia!"

"Yes...yes!"

Leon stared at Mia's rain-soaked face and said,

"You stay here and stay with Miller to watch over Bob. Use all the styptic powder in the first-aid kit in the car."

"If the ambulance doesn't arrive, you'll have to take him to the hospital yourselves, understand?"

Mia glanced instinctively at the dark HK416 in Leon's hand, then looked into the distance, deep within the rain.

The inexplicable surge of passion that had been ignited in the police station was still coursing through my veins.

She opened her mouth, instinctively wanting to refuse, wanting to go with Leon to chase after those bastards.

She was clearly just a lazy bum who wanted to coast along in the rear, but now that she was actually being kept behind, she felt an extreme sense of resentment and frustration.

But seeing Leon's "don't waste your breath" expression, she finally agreed.

"Understood, sir!"

Mia responded loudly, wiped the rain off her face, and turned to rush towards Bob.

"Take your hand off Miller, let me do it!"

Lyon turned to get into the car, just then, Bob on the ground suddenly reached out a hand and grabbed Lyon's trouser leg tightly.

"Cough cough... Leon..."

Bob's face was ashen, and his lips trembled.

"Submachine guns, at least an Uzi or a MAC-10, with a very high rate of fire... Those lunatics... Watch out..."

"Fine, you'd better save your life and treat me to steak."

Lyon nodded, reached out and squeezed Bob's cold hand tightly, then kicked open the car door.

"Ward, stop howling, get in the car!"

"If you want revenge, pick up a gun. What's the use of crying?"

Ward jolted, glanced at Leon, then abruptly grabbed Remington from the ground and silently climbed back into the passenger seat.

"boom--!"

The Ford Explorer's engine roared again, crushing the puddles on the ground as it hurtled headlong in the direction the Mustang had disappeared.

……

Inside the black Ford Mustang GT, the atmosphere was as chaotic as a madhouse. The torrential rain pounded wildly against the windshield, the wipers already on full blast.

In the driver's seat, Dante's hands were gripping the steering wheel tightly.

This was a nineteen-year-old Hispanic boy with greasy long hair and two silver rings above his left eyebrow.

Although he looked terrified and about to wet himself, his work remained remarkably meticulous.

He was somewhat well-known in Seattle's underground racing scene, originally a mechanic who made a living by modifying engines for smuggled cars and occasionally racing in illegal tracks.

Because of high-interest loans, he was forced to sell himself and his car to a gang as a driver.

He personally modified this Mustang GT, adding a Roots supercharger to the 5.0-liter V8 engine, giving it horsepower that can even rival supercars.

"Hahaha, dead, that cop is definitely dead."

In the passenger seat, Rocco was in a state of extreme agitation and frenzy.

He was a typical gang thug, in his thirties, bald, with his entire face and neck covered in tattoos, even his eyelids were tattooed with words.

Because of his long-term consumption of ice, his cheeks were sunken, and his skin was covered with festering sores from scratching.

At that moment, the MAC-10 submachine gun that had just wounded Bob was lying beside him.

"This is that... what was it again? The police killer! I'm the police killer!"

"That fat bastard was crawling on the ground like a dog just now, hahahaha!"

Rocco laughed wildly and waved his arms, his mind severely affected by the drugs.

The back seat was piled high with black tactical backpacks and several heavy canvas bags.

This was a double-cross transport mission.

Their gang had just stolen a shipment of high-purity ice and weapons from a transit point belonging to a Mexican gang, and was preparing to transport it to the Canadian border.

This is why this vehicle has so many weapons.

Or rather... the reason, in their opinion, was that the gang gave them so much firepower.

In the middle of the back seat sat "Skinny" Slim.

This was a Black man, as thin as a skeleton, with sunken eyes and a head full of messy, filthy braids tied up at the back of his head.

He was the group's chemist, specifically in charge of inspecting the goods.

Just now, during the gunfight, this guy wasn't scared at all. Instead, taking advantage of the chaos, he grabbed a handful of white powder from the torn bag and inhaled it without a second thought.

At this moment, Slim was in a trance-like state, humming an unknown tune.

He was clutching an AK-47 assault rifle tightly in his arms, and two Glock 17s with extended magazines lay scattered at his feet.

"Listen...listen to this sound..."

Slim tilted his head back, listening to the overwhelming sirens outside the window, a dazed smile spreading across his face.

"The whole of Seattle is cheering for us... Dante, drive faster, we're about to take off..."

"Shut up! You two are crazy!"

Dante swerved to avoid a large truck, yelling in despair.

"The entire city's police force has been mobilized! You just killed a police officer! That was assaulting a police officer! We're doomed!"

"It's over?"

Rocco abruptly turned his head, his face covered in sores looming close to Dante's, and pulled out a Glock pistol, pressing it against Dante's temple.

"Nobody's going to die! As long as you drive carefully, someone will pick you up once you get to Canada!"

"I have a gun and explosives behind me. Anyone who dares to block my way, I'll kill them! One if they come, I'll kill them! Two if they come, I'll kill them both!"

Rocco leaned out of the car window, letting the cold rain lash his burning face, and roared at the dark rain curtain behind him:

"Come on, you pigs! Come and chase Grandpa!!"