The world of American TV series: Starting with the L.A. Patrol.

Jack lit a candle and dripped the melted wax onto a plate. Before the wax solidified, he fixed the entire candle to the bottom of the plate and placed it in the middle of the aisle of the temporary detention area.

Although this glimmer of light is insignificant, it is better than being pitch dark. Lighting a few of them can at least help calm people down.

"Why did the power go out suddenly? Those rubbish corporations that control this country are really unreliable, and so is the government that is always talking big." The drug addict grabbed the iron railing and started talking non-stop.

"This isn't a power outage, you idiot," the young black girl cursed, "someone cut off the power, and something terrible is going to happen here."

"Hey, pretty boy, do you know what happened?" The black guy who called himself Smiley asked Jack.

Jack pointed at the big black man who was leaning against the innermost cell and remained silent. "Why not ask the big guy next door to you? I think he should know the situation better. Maybe when he is rescued later, you can ask him to take you with him."

"I think you're mistaken, sir." At this time, the big black man Bishop actually spoke up, "My people would not point their guns at me. If the dead officer hadn't just come in with a tray, I would have been a corpse by now."

"Oh, it seems you have offended a lot of people." Jack sighed, found a broom and started cleaning up the mess. In the chaos just now, the food carried by the white state police was spilled all over the floor and was trampled everywhere.

He didn't care about the purpose of the two gunmen. It had nothing to do with him whether they were saving people or silencing them. If he hadn't been unclear about how many people were on the other side and was worried that the old, weak and sick people in the police station would drag John down, he would have rushed out alone.

Scanning all the way to the other end of the corridor of the temporary detention area, which was the direction where the two gunmen entered and escaped, Jack paused slightly, squatted on the spot and picked up a deformed bullet from the ground.

"Jack, you'd better come over here." John's voice came from the other end of the corridor.

Jack put away the bullet, looked meaningfully at Bishop who hid himself in the corner, and followed John back to the front office area.

The office area, which had been filled with a festive atmosphere just a moment ago, was now left with only a few faint candlelights flickering. All the blinds were lowered, the door was bolted, and even the broken glass window was blocked by a filing cabinet.

Sheriff Ronick was putting on a bulletproof vest. Most of the equipment in this lousy police station had been packed up and sent away, not even a bulletproof plate was left, so he put on the only two bulletproof vests he found.

Meanwhile, the old police officer Jasper was still nagging beside him, "You don't have to do this. Now is not the time to be impulsive. We obviously have a better way to solve this matter."

"I can't let a criminal walk out of my police station openly." Ronnick muttered in a low voice as he continued to put on his uniform over the double-layer bulletproof vest, his tone full of unquestionable determination.

"What are you trying to do?" Jack was a little confused by this scene.

John explained, "Sheriff Ronik wants to drive the bus parked at the back door to find reinforcements."

Jack was a little surprised. How could this young sheriff, who looked unremarkable and even showed some PTSD symptoms, suddenly become so brave? Could it be that he was secretly hiding some extra pills?

"There is a radio in the car. As long as we drive the car a certain distance away from the interference range, we can contact the main station." Ronick explained his plan.

"It's a good idea indeed. Although the bus that transports prisoners has been modified and may be able to withstand rifle bullets, the weather outside is not very good now. Are you sure?"

Jack didn't object, but asked worriedly. There was a blizzard raging outside, so this actually had both advantages and disadvantages.

It was already late at night, and although there were some dim street lights outside, the heavy snow made visibility extremely limited. As long as we moved quickly and used the huge body of the bus for cover, the threat from the sniper would be limited.

But the trouble is that there is snow on the road, and although the bus body is reinforced with steel plates, the windshield is not bulletproof. If you are not very familiar with the surrounding environment, once your vision is blocked, it is easy to drive the bus into a ditch out of nervousness.

"We need rescue. If I don't try, the policeman will probably die." Ronick smiled bitterly and tilted his head to gesture to the black state trooper who had fallen asleep on the sofa. Finally, his eyes fell on the psychologist Alex.

"Besides, there are civilians among us."

Jack opened his mouth, wanting to say that if the man's injury was delayed until dawn, there shouldn't be any problem, but then he thought that the sheriff's plan actually had a high success rate, especially if he could help.

"It's too dangerous to do this. There is at least something outside." The old police officer Jasper wanted to persuade him again, but he saw Jack had already dragged his suitcase over and took out a box with a combination lock from it. It looked very heavy.

Then everyone looked at him in surprise as he took out an FN57 pistol, several accessories and two boxes of bullets from the box.

"Who are you?" The old police officer Jasper was the only one present who didn't know Jack's identity, and he was a little confused when he saw this scene.

"An FBI passing by." Jack installed red dot sights on the FN57 and his own SIG Sauer, while John loaded SS190 pistol bullets into the magazine for him.

"More guns won't change anything." Old police officer Jasper curled his lips in disapproval.

"Maybe." Jack had no intention of arguing with him. More pistols really wouldn't change anything. The effective range of 50 meters was indeed not enough to fight against a sniper rifle with a range of hundreds of meters.

But the effective range of a general pistol is 50 meters, which does not mean that the bullet will have no lethality if it flies 50 meters away.

In this horrible weather, Jack didn't think the sniper would hide too far away, a hundred meters at most. In this situation, continuous firepower was the best cover.

"You and Officer Nolan stay in front and protect everyone. They don't know the situation inside and they shouldn't dare to rush in casually."

Ronick gave the worried old police officer a hug to stop him from saying the rest of the words, then drew his own pistol, loaded the bullet, and looked at Jack with murderous intent.

"Let's go. I hope your marksmanship is as good as your medical skills."

John patted his chest and gave Jack a thumbs up, indicating that he could take care of the matter with confidence.

The two walked through the temporary detention area, turned around the corridor, passed the storage room, and finally came to the back door. Ronnick moved the chair that was propped against the door handle, looked back at Jack, and after seeing him nod slightly, he pulled open the iron door.

The wind and snow howled in, and the front of the bus was facing the back door, only more than ten meters away, and there was a faint long drag mark on the ground.

Before, the black state trooper was shooting at the fleeing gunman from the front of the car, but was knocked down by one shot and then dragged back by Ronick at all costs.

"Don't be in a hurry." Jack grabbed Ronnick who was bending over and about to rush out, first quickly poked his head out from the right side of the door to look at the far corner on the left, then quickly changed his position, stuck to the left side of the door frame, and looked at the far corner on the right.