chapter 6

From a distance, I could see the weapon. Apparently, it was either a Browning M1906 or a Colt model 1908, a pocket pistol of 6.35×15 mm caliber. And I, as luck would have it, left my weapon at home. Damn it, I came to the store for a frying pan! There and back! Why did I need a gun?!

Squinting down and exhaling quietly, my fingers began to slowly open the packages. So what did I know about the caliber in this pistol? Despite the fact that it can kill at close range when hitting the temple, the cartridge is not able to penetrate the frontal bone, especially at a distance, because there is not enough penetration power. And what is the kinetic energy of a shot at a distance? It seems to be sixty. And it takes eighty for a man, if my memory serves me right. But the problem is that the closer I am, the more energy there will be from hitting. Where there is sixty, there can be a hundred. Risk, damn it, because there's still about a fifty-fifty chance.

Time passed slowly, I was able to put one frying pan under my T-shirt, covering the left side of my chest with it, when I heard a voice amplified by a megaphone. This means that at least one car is here. I hope the back door is controlled.

The second frying pan also took its place, covering the stomach. Now I can be sure that if a drug addict breaks down, the cartridge will not be able to pass between the ribs if the shot is in the chest, and will not hit the intestines if it is in the stomach. Well, I think we can start. The most important thing is to distract the criminal, ideally not to let me be shot. If it comes to that...

"Stay still!" The addict immediately shouted, seeing how I took a step. The pans are clearly sticking out slightly from under his clothes, but he doesn't seem to notice it. We need to catch his gaze... It's cool.

"Hey, hey, hey. Calmer. It's all good. I'm not going to hurt you, I need to speak more calmly, the main thing is not to break eye contact. Everything is as they were taught. "I'm unarmed. Let's talk? What is your name?

"M-Mark... I'm Mark.

"Nice to meet you, Mark. I'm Castiel. Listen, I don't know what happened in your life, but what you're doing now is a pretty serious crime.

"I just need the money!" The guy shouted loudly, making me freeze. So, calm down. I'm still too far away from him, but at least I've done what I planned. Attention is shifted to me, as well as the pistol.

"I understand, Mark. Everyone needs money at all times. But not in this way. You haven't done anything too serious yet, but you must understand that if you hurt anyone, there will be no way back. And you will go to prison for a much longer period.

A couple more small steps, while the guy is distracted by my voice. Mother, I'm scared. And not for himself, but for the girl. Demetrius forbid, the addict will turn the gun on her again. Calm your breathing. Another step. I need a little more to catch his hand with the gun.

But then my heart sank into my heels. There was a soft crunch under my foot, which seemed deafeningly loud to me. My heart didn't skip a beat, it jumped, but a shiver ran down my spine. Mark, who had barely calmed down, pulled the trigger from the crunch he heard, and the quiet shot of the pistol seemed even louder to me. The bullet hit me in the left shoulder, pushing me back slightly and turning me around. Falling on my side, I hit the floor with my shot shoulder and can barely hold back my scream, and then darkness covers my mind for a second.

Whore! It was very painful, even despite the small caliber. In all four years, I was shot at more than once, but luck was on my side, the bullets always missed. Several times they tried to stab me with a knife, but there I escaped with only small cuts. I wanted to swear out loud, but I had to pretend to be a person who lost consciousness from the shot. As for myself, I was saying not just three-story mats, but entire skyscrapers. It was as if a rod had been stuck in his shoulder, the arm itself was slightly numb, and the frying pans were very unpleasantly digging into his body.

The frightened screams of people were stopped by the scream of the shooter himself. There was panic in his voice. In the silence that followed, the sound of footsteps was heard. They were clearly approaching me, and judging by the direction from which the sound came, it was Mark with a hostage. Opening my eyes a little, I saw that they were already standing next to me. The culprit kicked my leg weakly, as if checking, lowering his gun down and aiming at me just in case. Damn, turn your back already!

As if hearing my thoughts, the sound of the can falling to the floor was heard. Mark twitched, turning his head in the direction of the sound, and I immediately kicked his arm, knocking out the gun. Then I acted as if all emotions had turned off, allowing my mind to work at full capacity.

Jumping to my feet, I punch him in the face, immediately grab the hostage, tearing her away from the criminal, and throw him to the floor with a blow to the chest. On instinct, when I hear someone running from the side of me, I push the girl in that direction (noting that the runner also turned out to be a girl), turning back. Mark had already reached the gun and, jumping up, began to aim at me again. Grabbing him by the arm, I point the pistol down, and the shot knocks the splinters out of the wooden floor. The strength in my left arm was not enough to perform a painful hold, but it was enough to prevent the criminal from pulling his arm out.

I strike twice with my elbow in the face of the criminal, knocking down the already weak concentration, after which I hit the inside of the elbow with my palm, knocking out the gun again. After that, hitting his nose with my forehead, I quickly move behind his back, and kick him in the popliteal fossa. The opponent falls to one knee, screaming loudly, and turns his head in my direction. My hand immediately slipped under my T-shirt, taking out a frying pan, which I slammed into his face. He was turned around, thrown to the floor, and I myself fell on top of him, resting my knee on the back, twisting the criminal's arm. Judging by the scream, it hurt. Believe me, I know, because this technique was practiced on me more than once during training.

My breath was out of breath and my heart was pounding like crazy, but damn it, I felt awesome. And since I was not on duty, I think I will have nothing for so much... An interesting way to neutralize the enemy.

I don't remember the rest well, I came to my senses already in the ambulance that took me to our hospital. The shoulder was already bandaged, and the bullet, as it turned out, got stuck, not going too deep. This is due to the fact that the 6.35×15 caliber itself has a low penetrating force, so the aluminum rings sewn into the windbreaker, and the distance, played a positive role. And the fact that, according to Demetrius, my body was initially stronger, also played a role. Despite this, I was asked to stay a few days in the hospital, from which I escaped the next morning. I'm tired of these procedures. Especially the fact that I had blood taken for tests several times. And until this morning, I just slept stupidly, and so deeply that if they called me, I did not hear.

And now I was standing opposite Lieutenant Bran, who was staring at me. Yes, I understood that I could not participate in the trips, but I could do paperwork. And it is vital for me to be aware of everything that is happening in the city now. There is nothing left until the moment when everything starts to go down the drain, and you need to catch this moment. But my desire to work did not please the lieutenant very much.

"So, Sergeant," Branagh said, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Right now, you go to the hospital and take a sick leave for the time they tell you there. I don't care that you want to work, with your hand, you at least belong at home.

"Lieutenant...

"Otherwise, I myself will lock you in the hospital, in a special ward, from which you will even go to the toilet under supervision. Matheson, I need you in full health, not crippled. Do you understand me?

"Yes, sir," I gasped, admitting defeat.

Well, you need to look for advantages in everything. I can rest and do something. Maybe I'll buy ammunition for the future at the same time. In addition, I remember that Barry invited me to go fishing with him and his friend Robert Kendo in a town nearby - in Stoneville. Before that, I refused, but since I have a weekend, why not agree? At the same time, I'll get a divorce. However, at the exit from the station, they were waiting for me. The beautiful Miss Valentine stared at me with such an unkind look that I instinctively wanted to get out. I felt the door handle with my tailbone, but the problem was that I had not yet learned how to open the door with my tailbone.

I wonder if if I am killed now, Demetrius will be very angry? Because dying before the start of the quest will be very inopportune.

***

Jill Valentine. Very angry Jill Valentine.

No, he really came to work in such a state. It was not enough for him to escape from the hospital, so he also came to work. And judging by the look, the guy did not feel remorse. But he was clearly afraid to get it now. Cas's expression when he saw me was so amused that if it weren't for the situation, I could have laughed.

Last weekend was full of events. The release of steam in the hall calmed my nerves, and it was quite interesting to watch the sparring of Chris and Cas. If only because the latter itself was quite ... Unusual. I don't know what exactly, but my intuition from the very first meeting said directly that he was not bad, but incomprehensible.

It was easy and interesting to communicate with him, Chris and Barry, whom I introduced him to a little later, were also interested in him. Cas met with Barry against the background of a weapon - these two could talk about it for hours and argue with each other, going into such a thicket that smoke almost came out of the ears of those around them. With Chris, they not only communicated or went to the ring, but also visited the shooting range. The sergeant shot quite well.

The only thing Cas didn't talk about was that he was initially uncomfortable communicating. It was almost invisible, but if you know what to pay attention to, you can notice. However, later he did explain that it seemed strange to him that the fighters of the elite squad communicated with an ordinary policeman. I found something to worry about. As if we are so different. Or as if we are superior to ordinary people.

Gradually, these edges smoothed out. Cas became more fluent with us when an unofficial order came from Captain Wesker to check on Castiel Matheson. There could be only one reason, but it seems that the captain and Cas did not even cross paths to give such an order. However, the more experienced people there are in S.T.A.R.S, the better. At the very least, he may be assigned to the squad in the same way as Kevin. He is not a member of the Special Operations Department, but in case of special need, he can take the place of the main pilot instead of Brad or Edward. A little later, a similar request came from Captain Marini, which convinced me more strongly that they wanted to recruit him.

When I confronted Cus in the ring, I was surprised. Is he really an ordinary policeman? Because it felt like he, too, had been trained in the army like me, or had been in Delta Force. Although this cannot be, his case directly says so. Even Chris noted that for an ordinary policeman, Cas is strong, and it is not so easy to bring him down.

In addition, the sergeant learns and adapts very quickly. And its stability has also increased. If initially Chris won quite easily, now, as he himself states and I can see for myself, it is not so easy to get to Cas. He dodges, dodges, and catches exactly when you don't expect it at all. Give him more stamina, and Chris will have to give his best to win.

The weekend evening ended in the store buying groceries. Among the few visitors was Cas, who was clearly thinking hard about something, judging by his concentrated face. However, the screams and the sound of a gunshot distracted me.

Robbery with hostage-taking. Yes, that's how I wanted to end my day off. Glancing at Cas, I noticed how he carefully examined the criminal, squinting slightly. His hands moved slightly, as if he was trying to reach for something. Only a little later did I realize that he had put a frying pan under his T-shirt, and he caught the moment when no one was looking in his direction.

And then he went out to the criminal and spoke to him. Distracting him, Cas gave me the opportunity to move slightly to the side, going into the blind spot. Now the main thing is to save the hostage, not to let him harm her. And then a shot rang out. Cas spun slightly, and he fell to the floor, stopping moving. The momentary fright passed quickly - the bullet hit him only in the shoulder, but it was better to finish everything quickly. Gritting my teeth and waiting for the moment, I threw the jar of peas in the opposite direction.

The criminal was distracted, and at the same moment I rushed forward, Cas began to act, knocking the gun out of the criminal's hands. But he didn't let me help him, he almost threw me hostage, and with such force that we both almost fell to the floor. Dragging the girl behind the nearest grocery counter, I tried to return to Cas when another shot rang out, which this time went to the floor.

Everything went very quickly. Hitting the criminal with his head in the face, Cas almost instantly went behind his back, put him on his knee with one blow, and then... He hit the criminal with a frying pan, which he took out from under his T-shirt. After that, he was pressed to the floor with his arm twisted behind his back. And then...

"Seller!" I'm buying it! A wonderful thing both in the kitchen and at work!

I wanted to laugh nervously. God, he was almost shot, his shoulder is covered in blood, and he also has time to joke! And because of the adrenaline, he didn't even seem to realize that his wound had been bandaged and sent to the hospital while I was helping to put the criminal in the car. I don't even know what I want more - to hit him or really laugh?

It turned out that it was necessary to cut in. And knock them out. And tie them up. Yes, his wound wasn't too serious, but that's not a reason to run away from the hospital! And so that no one noticed him! Not through the window!

You couldn't tell anything from the captain's face. When he learned of Sergeant Matheson's actions, he only chuckled softly as he told him to continue. But where to continue if he is going to be treated. And judging by the expression on his face at the moment, Cas is clearly ready to run away anywhere, just to get away from me. Well, if so, then he will go to the hospital now. In a good way. Or it will be bad. I think Chris will help me if anything.