Chapter 63: Leaving One Alive

The passengers inside the bus were crouched down in their seats, heads in their hands, screams echoing throughout the vehicle. The idiot driver in the front was frantically trying to crawl out of the driver's seat, screaming in panic.

Jack fought the urge to shoot the fool as he watched the driver being pinned to the ground by his colleagues, still struggling, until a taser was applied to his waist, making him shake like someone with Parkinson's. This sight improved Jack's mood considerably.

He wasn't the only one displeased with the driver. The surrounding officers, including Sergeant Gray, were all fuming. They had almost apprehended both terrorists, but because of this idiot, one escaped and a whole bus full of passengers was put at risk.

Jack peeked again. A passenger had been shot in the shoulder, lying on the seat in front of him, groaning in pain. An empty Scorpion submachine gun lay in the aisle at the back of the bus, and the terrorist was hiding behind a seat, holding a spray bottle high.

Jack moved forward, ushering the wounded passenger and several others from the front seats off the bus, giving Angela a clear line of fire. He then stood up, aiming his gun at the terrorist, and started talking to draw attention.

While Jack blocked the terrorist's view of the front of the bus, Angela quietly set up her AR-15 on the railing at the front door, placing the terrorist's head in her sight.

"Hey, buddy, don't do anything stupid. Let's talk."

Jack raised his right hand, holding his gun, while hiding the wet towel in his left hand behind his back.

"Let me go, or everyone on this bus gets infected."

The terrorist curled up behind the seat, using the nearby passengers as cover.

Jack quickly glanced back at Angela. She shook her head, indicating that the terrorist was too well-hidden for a clear shot.

Outside, everything was quiet except for the screams of the bus passengers. The police lights, which were blindingly bright before, were all turned off. This was Sergeant Gray coordinating with the officers to create a better sniping environment for Angela.

Jack had no choice but to keep talking. The bus was higher at the front and lower at the back, so his shooting position was not much better than Angela's. He dared not approach further, knowing that in such a confined space, the release of high-concentration viral liquid could instantly contaminate the entire bus.

"Come on, don't be an idiot. You don't want to die, do you? Put down what you're holding. Your plan has failed. No need to throw away your life."

"How about this? I'll put down my gun and guarantee your safety. You let me handcuff you, and I'll speak to the judge on your behalf, okay?"

As he spoke, Jack took two steps forward, his pupils constricted as he tried to appear unaware that the terrorist still had a handgun.

His raised right hand, seemingly pointing the gun upward, had his finger lightly resting on the trigger. His left hand, holding the wet towel behind his back, was also signaling Angela to get ready.

With heightened tension affecting his judgment, the terrorist's decision-making was limited. As long as Jack appeared to be the only threat, the terrorist would likely shoot him rather than release the virus.

Sure enough, with an angry roar, the terrorist stood up and aimed his handgun at Jack. Jack quickly sidestepped, giving Angela a clear shot while lowering his right hand and pulling the trigger.

With a loud gunshot, two bullets were fired. Jack's Glock sent a bullet right into the terrorist's forehead, which shattered the terrorist's brain and lodged in the skull.

Angela's AR-15 bullet, on the other hand, entered through the terrorist's nose and exited through the back of his head, embedding itself in the bus's roof. The fragments of bone and brain matter splattered onto a white woman sitting in the back row, who looked up in confusion before letting out a piercing scream.

Ignoring the burning sensation in his left shoulder, Jack stepped forward, tossing the wet towel onto the spray bottle next to the terrorist's body.

"It's safe now. Everyone off the bus, quickly! Move!"

Angela opened the rear door from the driver's console, herding the passengers out while approaching Jack.

Jack holstered his Glock, wiped his bloody left shoulder, and turned to Angela with a puzzled expression.

"Did you shoot me just now?"

"Just grazed you a bit."

Angela smiled wickedly, her smirk resembling that of a dragon king.

"160 bucks. It's on your tab."

Jack tugged at his now torn uniform, feeling a bit distressed.

"7-L-20, marking my position. No need for further pursuit; the suspect is down."

Outside the bus, Sergeant Gray breathed a sigh of relief and reported to the command center via walkie-talkie, then continued to ask,

"Harper, have you and John tracked down the escaping suspect?"

There was no response for a few seconds, then John's deliberately low voice came through the walkie-talkie.

"Command center, suspect sighted at 5824 Elgin Road, checking the backyard."

A few minutes later, Zoe's voice also came through the walkie-talkie.

"The FAA has approved police helicopters to enter LA International Airport airspace to assist in your search."

"We'll go help."

After wrapping his arm with a bandage, Jack put his uniform back on. He wasn't in the mood to comfort the traumatized passengers and checked if the patrol car's engine was still functional.

Wesley silently climbed into the back seat, determined to stick with them today.

After making a few turns and driving less than two kilometers, Jack stopped at the location John had reported, turned on the spotlight mounted on the windshield, and aimed it at John and Nyra Harper's position.

They had cornered the suspect in a dilapidated wooden shed in someone's backyard—a makeshift storage shed many Americans built to store tools.

Telling Wesley to stay put, Jack and Angela got out of the car, using an old washing machine as cover and setting up the AR-15 on it.

Nyra was shouting towards the shed,

"Hey, you hear the sirens? More of our colleagues are coming, and hundreds more are on their way. You're alone."

Before she could finish, several gunshots rang out from inside, making her duck.

Jack stifled a laugh and looked at John. Situations like this should be handled by professionals. With the suspect surrounded, capturing him alive would be advantageous when claiming credit later.

Whether it was the DHS or the FBI, they had been remotely commanding all day. Regardless of who ended up with the suspect, getting him out of Wilshire Division would require a favor from Zoe and her team.

___________________

Read Ahead

P@treon.com/Mutter