American Detective: Starting as a Rookie Cop in an American TV Show

Chapter 1351 Escape?

"Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!" The security chief's shiny head gleamed in the rising sun. He bent over and squatted on the deck of the yacht, waving desperately at the celebrities and wealthy people who were staggering towards him.

The unknown sniper in the direction of the radar station in the distance was still shooting. Bullets occasionally fell on the sea near the dock boardwalk, splashing water in stars, making those "noble people" who had never experienced such a scene couldn't help but exclaim in surprise.

Even with the protection of bodyguards, their steps were still hesitant. Although some of them had been to Africa and hunted lions and even elephants on the grasslands with large-caliber shotguns, none of them had ever experienced the baptism of "bullets and rain" like this.

Fortunately, even if celebrities and wealthy people travel secretly to attend such shameful gatherings, they usually do not bring only a personal bodyguard or entourage.

Even if some of the people who stayed in the villa were removed, the remaining bodyguards and security guards could still work in groups of two to force the "VIPs" with weak legs and feet onto the yacht.

The yacht marina is located on the north side of the island, more than 800 meters away from the radar station, which is beyond the accurate hit range of ordinary snipers.

There is actually only a short distance between the dock behind the villa and the yacht that is exposed to the "sniper's" field of vision. As long as you move quickly enough, boarding the yacht is not too dangerous. At least no unlucky person has been shot so far.

The occasional gunshots coming from the villa at this time also showed that the security guards and bodyguards who stayed behind were still resisting "stubbornly".

Now as long as we get on the yacht, it seems that we can escape?
After all, no matter how powerful the anti-material sniper rifle is, it is only a single-shot rifle. Being hit by a few large-caliber bullets is of no concern to this luxury yacht that is sixty or seventy meters long.

The mysterious sniper on the other side seemed to have noticed this. After firing two shots at the yacht and realizing that there was no effect, he quickly gave up this "futile" attempt of wasting bullets and began shooting at several other small speedboats that were also moored at the dock.

Originally, some clever guys wanted to try to steal those speedboats so that they could leave this damn place as soon as possible.

However, after seeing bullets falling around several speedboats and quickly hitting one of them and causing an explosion, they gave up the idea.

Jack casually fired the last of his loaded five-round magazine toward the dock, muttering, "That's about it, right?"

Clay, who was lying beside him, said nothing, but just shook his sore fingers.

They prepared everything except a loader. It is not a human task to load such large-caliber bullets into the magazine without the help of tools.

"Let's go down and help." Jack put down the "Mambi" anti-material sniper rifle on his shoulder and symbolically rubbed his shoulders as Clay looked at him like an animal.
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Finally, all the panicked celebrities and wealthy people within sight boarded the yacht. The security director squatting on the deck chopped the already taut cable several times, and then shouted into the intercom, "Speed ​​up the boat! Dog! Dog! Dog!"

There had been no new gunshots in the villa for some time, and the sniper had also stopped shooting. However, an ominous premonition still weighed on the security chief's already tense nerves.

"Wait for me! Wait for me!" Suddenly a security guard emerged from the bushes behind the villa, dragging his bleeding left leg and limping onto the dock.

The security chief was startled and subconsciously lay down on the stern deck, almost pulling the trigger of the assault rifle in his hand.

However, before he could react, a tall, oppressive figure appeared in the back garden of the villa. He walked forward slowly like a mecha warrior in a science fiction movie, stepped over the carefully trimmed bushes, squatted, raised his gun, and pulled the trigger.

The injured security guard who had just escaped to the pier stumbled and fell to the ground. Blood gradually spread from under his body, seeped into the gaps in the wooden boards of the pier, and finally fell into the clear green sea below.

A small wave came and quickly diluted the red sea water. The blood drops continued to fall, and the sea water was dyed red again. Then another wave came, and the process was repeated over and over again.

The security chief lying at the stern didn't dare to move. He never thought of pointing his gun at the oppressive figure. He just stared at it stupidly.

The two sides were less than 50 meters apart, but the sun had already risen from the east. The tension and heat caused sweat to flow down the security director's smooth forehead, flowing into his eyes, causing a stinging pain and blurring his vision.

But he didn't dare to move, neither rubbing his eyes nor pointing the assault rifle at the other party.

The security chief didn't know why the guy didn't shoot at him on the deck, but he didn't dare to do anything that would change the current strange stalemate.

The propeller of the yacht turned rapidly, gradually moving away from the island with a group of frightened celebrities and wealthy people.

Time seemed to stop at this moment, and it seemed as if a long time had passed. When the figure who was still kneeling and shooting gradually turned into a small black dot, the security director seemed to wake up from a dream. He shuddered and slowly sat up from the deck.

"Damn it, what on earth happened? Who are the guys who attacked us? Pirates?"

A familiar face popped out from the cabin below the deck. The security chief did not recognize the other person, but felt familiar because this face often appeared on TV news.

External communications are prohibited on the island, and there is no wireless network, but there is satellite TV, which is one of the only entertainment activities on the island besides private hookups with "yacht girls" and gambling.

As if he realized he was out of danger, the old man, who looked like a U.S. congressman, ignored his bodyguards' attempts to stop him and hurried back to the deck.

"And what about that guy Luther? I need him to give an explanation as to what is going on."

Facing the angry congressman, the security director, who was so nervous that he even felt a little exhausted, stood up with great effort and said, "Sir, please don't get excited. Mr. Luther did not board the ship. His last order was for me to protect your safety."

However, what responded to him was neither an even angrier roar from the congressman nor praise for his diligence and dedication, but an old face that turned from anger to astonishment and even looked a little distorted.

"what is that."

There was a strange whistling sound in his ears. It wasn't loud, but it was obviously coming from far away. The security chief turned his head in confusion and looked up at the sky in the direction of the other party's finger.

(End of this chapter)