Pft pft pft~~~
Bullets continued to strike the area around them. Heat was dragged into a corner by Monica, who immediately began checking his injuries.
As Monica reached into his vest, Heat, still not serious about the situation, fumbled around his own body until he found a few flattened bullets. "No… not an assault rifle. It's a UDP-9. See, 9mm handgun rounds. It's a modified AR platform from Onstatt Arms, meant to compete with HK's MP series. It just looks a lot like an AR…"
The fact that he was still talking this much was a good sign—he was okay. Sure enough, Monica pulled her hand back and said, "You're fine. The rounds didn't penetrate the vest…"
Everyone around them breathed a collective sigh of relief. The last thing they wanted was for one of their own to go down.
...
Inside the house, just as Avril received the signal from her team warning of incoming threats, two flashbangs flew through the window. She and Zheng Anshun immediately ducked for cover. By the time they scrambled up again, the last remaining Cruel Angel member had already vanished.
Gunfire erupted outside—it was her younger brother Alfred providing cover so they could escape.
Avril moved quickly to the window Bernie had escaped through and peeked out. She saw the police being pinned down under heavy fire, then leapt out without hesitation.
...
Owen watched in disbelief as two figures jumped out the window. He was about to move when a stream of bullets shredded the column behind him.
He ducked back behind cover and waved at Castle, who immediately understood and tossed him his only offensive grenade. SWAT rarely used them in urban settings due to their destructive power and the risk to civilians. Castle only carried one for emergencies.
Owen pulled the pin and threw it blindly.
Since there were no civilians around and the grenade relied mostly on concussive force, Owen deemed it safe enough to use.
The explosion briefly silenced the gunfire. Owen dashed from cover, crouched low and firing as he advanced.
ASH and the others coordinated seamlessly with him, especially Monica, who intuitively picked a target and provided suppressive fire while moving forward.
Owen targeted the one using the UDP, Monica the machine gunner.
Owen managed to keep the UDP shooter pinned. When the guy tried to shift positions, a single shot from Owen hit his thigh.
Before he could finish him off, Owen was forced to dive into a roll as his peripheral vision caught the machine gunner tossing a firearm to the woman who had just jumped out the window—it looked like an MP7.
Owen wasn't foolish enough to challenge that head-on.
If the earlier 9mm rounds from the UDP had been mostly shrugged off by body armor, the MP7's 4.6mm rounds were a whole different beast—true armor killers.
In real-life tactical operations, the MP7 had earned its nickname: "cop killer." Criminals using it often dominated standoffs against police.
Its armor-piercing rounds could penetrate Kevlar helmets and vests at 200 meters, and at 50 meters, pierce multiple layers of CRISAT vests—gear used by Soviet special forces and currently standardized by NATO. With full metal jacket AP rounds, effective range extended to 300 meters.
Only an idiot would think a bulletproof vest made them invincible against that.
Owen immediately bailed out of the kill zone. The second he moved, bullets peppered the spot he'd just been in.
Avril was firing. This was her second miss today. Earlier, she thought she'd had Bernie when she crashed through the window—but he'd dodged by some fluke.
Now she'd missed this FBI agent too (Owen was wearing an FBI vest due to the rushed nature of the op). Not bothering to pursue, she gave the retreat order.
"Zheng, cover me. Everyone else, fall back!"
Zheng Anshun said nothing, unleashing a burst from his P90. Their arsenal was a mismatched mix—because their gun dealer had been killed weeks ago, cutting off their L.A. supply line.
They had scavenged these weapons from a PDW enthusiast's stash.
PDWs (Personal Defense Weapons) had been falling out of favor in recent years, becoming obsolete and awkwardly positioned between pistols and rifles. This collector's house was filled with them—odd, exotic, but usable.
White Mask had just wanted a place to crash. When they opened the door and found a stockpile of niche firearms, they made do.
"No, sis, I can still fight—"
The machine gunner was angry after being pinned down by SWAT fire.
"Follow orders, Al!"
Avril's tone hardened. If Alfred weren't her brother, she would've shot him already. Disobeying orders in combat? She had no idea how he'd survived years in the military.
"Yes, sister~~"
Seeing her cold expression, Alfred obediently retracted his gun and retreated. Since childhood, they had only ever had each other. Avril had been both sister and mother to him, and he loved and respected her deeply.
Seeing the enemy withdraw, Owen tried to press the advantage—but was immediately pinned by two MP7s. He ducked back like everyone else.
Watching the machine gunner disappear into a nearby alley with the heavy M249, Avril and Zheng took turns covering the retreat.
"Help me! Don't leave me—"
The UDP shooter Owen had hit earlier cried out as they ran past him. Zheng passed without a glance. Avril didn't stop either. As she moved by, she tilted her gun slightly and fired a short burst, severing the man's extended arm and ending his struggle.
The pair moved in coordinated fallback. Owen noticed the enemy fire was thinning—they were likely low on ammo. He and SWAT cautiously advanced, finding the enemy no longer laying down heavy suppression.
As they moved toward the alley, Avril suddenly pulled a smoke grenade from her jacket, pulled the pin, and tossed it into the alley's center.
Thick gray smoke billowed outward, laced with stray bullets flying in both directions.
SWAT halted at the alley entrance. They couldn't see a thing, and bullets still whizzed from within—charging in would be suicide. ASH ordered a flanking move, but Owen had a feeling they were already too late.
Soon after, Ash's voice came through the comms: "They're gone~~~"
SWAT regrouped near the house. Benjamin had already gone inside to inspect. Owen, as usual, called data support to check surveillance footage.
"All dead. Not a single one left alive…"
Benjamin sounded frustrated. Owen looked over the bodies. Most had died in the back room. Only Anthony Berman lay in the front, eyes open, staring upward in death.
He was one of their confirmed suspects.
Strangely enough, it looked like his killer was another suspect—Zheng Anshun, the former 707 Special Forces operative.
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