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

In some war games that focus on realism, there is a lighting mechanism. When a teammate discovers an enemy, a red dot representing the enemy will be marked on the minimap and shared with all teammates in the same camp.

But in order to achieve this effect in reality, in addition to the communicator, everyone must at least know their own location and be able to report it accurately.

The sky in the distance was already turning slightly pale, but the scene in the woods was quite different: snowflakes had stopped falling, replaced by a light forest mist.

The dim light, the dead bushes and tree trunks that could be used to hide their bodies everywhere, and the annoying fog meant that even with the help of night vision goggles, Duval and his men did not dare to disperse too much.

Although both Ronik and Bishop were conscious of hiding their whereabouts, it was almost impossible to leave no footprints in the snow.

The three black policemen separated and searched in a fan shape, no more than five or six meters apart from each other. Duval, who was only holding a pistol, fell behind.

"Stop!" A black policeman walking in the middle raised his right hand and signaled his two teammates to stop.

"What's wrong?" Duval rushed over.

"The two of them are still together." The police officer pointed to the chaotic footprints under a big tree, "It seems that they rested there for a while."

"Chase them and kill them before they leave the woods." A ferocious look appeared on Duval's well-maintained old face. His three men nodded slightly and trotted after them following the two rows of footprints.

-

Ronnick chose a tree with the thickest trunk in the surrounding area, leaned against it and counted his own heartbeats.

Adrenaline is something that, if secreted a few more times a night, the human body will easily get used to it.

Even though he had a gun pointed at his head before, the sheriff had never been so nervous. After all, John's performance made the scene seem a little unserious.

Actively choosing to attract fire and become a living target was not because Ronik did not trust his marksmanship, but simply because he did not want anyone to die because of his decision.

In the operation eight months ago, his two partners were killed by drug traffickers because of his decision to pursue them separately.

Although both the Ministry of Internal Affairs and other people around him told him that the decision at that time, or the order itself, was not wrong, his good partners Carol and Tony were simply unlucky.

But Ronik inevitably suffered from PTSD. After all, not everyone can become a general and treat the lives of his soldiers as casualties with a wave of his hand.

Pain and self-doubt always tormented Ronnick, but fortunately he met the dedicated psychologist Alex, and finally on this New Year's Eve, he made up his mind to say goodbye to the past, the damn alcohol and painkillers, and to welcome a new beginning.

And then this terrible thing happened.

Ronnick knew that his performance after arriving at Police Station No. 13 was very poor and he did not behave like a responsible chief police officer at all. However, the morale of the people in the old police station, which had long been on the cancellation list, was already low.

Therefore, when he was betrayed by the old police officer Jasper at the last moment, Ronnick was unexpectedly calm. Perhaps this was the retribution mentioned in Eastern Buddhism. This was what he thought at the time.

When Bishop once again put a decision before him, Ronick decisively chose the riskiest one. If someone was destined to die tonight because of his decision, he hoped it would be himself.

The crunching sound of stepping on snow was already very clear not far away. He quickly poked his head out from behind the tree trunk to take a look, but there was still thick fog and he couldn't see anything.

Ronik gritted his teeth, jumped out from behind the tree, and started firing in the direction of the sound. The sound of the AR15 with a silencer could not be transmitted too far in the woods, but the faint muzzle flame still exposed his position.

Bullets landed around the three black policemen, on the tree trunks beside them and under their feet, making all kinds of strange noises, which immediately attracted their counterattack.

After quickly emptying a magazine, Ronik threw away the AR15 and turned to run. Dense bullets fell behind him. Just like in those Hollywood blockbusters, the speed of the soldiers' guns could never seem to catch up with the running figure of the protagonist.

In front of him was the fallen dead tree he had chosen earlier. The trunk was so thick that it took two people to hug it. Ronnick pushed his legs hard, imagining Jack's handsome dive before, and drew a beautiful arc in the air.

"Puff!" A bullet hit Ronik's right leg, and it bravely moved forward in the thigh muscle group, creating a hole that gradually grew larger and larger, and finally broke through the skin on the other side and flew to freedom.

"Mmmmm." Ronnick covered his right leg and twitched in pain behind a tree trunk. He curled up into a ball and dared not move at all.

The bullets kept hitting the tree trunks, making a "puff" sound. Some of the bullets were deeply embedded in the trunks, while others passed through the insufficiently thick parts and shot into the snow, hitting Ronik's cheek.

Faced with the strafing fire from three assault rifles, the sheriff was pinned to the spot. Even though he was not hit in the thigh, he lost the chance to get up and continue running away.

The three black policemen continued to advance steadily in a fan shape, taking turns to change bullets and maintain suppressive shooting, without noticing that the distance between them was getting closer and closer.

When the three passed a snowdrift that seemed to be supported by dry grass, Bishop, who had been waiting impatiently, jumped up like an angry black bear that was disturbed from hibernation and pulled the trigger of the AR15 in his hand.

"what!"

Amid short and terrified screams, Bishop quickly replaced the second magazine and walked up to a black police officer who was still twitching, "Where is Duval hiding?"

The black policeman covered his throat which was torn by the bullet, spitting blood from his mouth, and stared at the big black man in front of him.

Bishop came up to him, saw his injuries clearly, and directly took out his pistol and shot him in the head. But the next second he suddenly realized something was wrong. This guy was not looking at him, but at what was behind him.

"Bang!" Duval, who appeared behind Bishop at some point, shot him in the lower abdomen the moment he turned around.

The big black guy staggered two steps, leaned weakly against a tree trunk, and slowly slid to the ground.

The cunning Duval used his three men as bait and followed them from a distance. When he heard something wrong with the gunshots, he quickened his pace and caught up, only to see Bishop suddenly killing people.

His choice was not to rush to shoot and rescue his men, but to watch everything happen in cold blood, tiptoeing up to Bishop and then killing him, just like a oriole catching a mantis.

"Bishop, look at you, Bishop, you finally ended up like this." Kicking the gun off the ground, Marcus Duval squatted in front of the gang boss with a mocking look on his face.

"Haha." Bishop, who was covering his abdominal wound, retorted and even laughed out loud, "What about you? Dear Marcus, do you think that if you kill me now, you can successfully escape?

Did that spineless old man Jasper tell you that there was an FBI agent present when you attacked the police station?"

Duval's pupils suddenly shrank, and the panic expression on his face disappeared for a moment. Then he suppressed the urge to curse, and forced himself to remain calm while pressing the muzzle of the gun against Bishop's forehead.

"Thank you for your reminder. I will flee this country as soon as possible. As for you, just die in peace."

"Don't even think about it, put down your weapon!" Ronick limped over to the two men with difficulty and pointed his gun at Duval.

With the muzzle of his gun still pointed at Bishop's head, Duval slowly stood up and faced Ronick.

"What the hell are you waiting for? Shoot!" Bishop roared as he leaned against a tree trunk.

"Shut the fuck up!" Roenicke yelled back even louder, then read the Miranda warning to Duvall.

"Put down your gun, Duval, you have the right to remain silent"

"Hahaha, you idiot, you actually read this to me?" Duval seemed to have heard a joke. He was laughing so hard that he fell backwards, but the gun in his hand remained motionless, pointing at Bishop's head.

"And what if I don't? Are you going to shoot me? Shoot a lieutenant? Tell me, Chief Rollnick, are you really going to do this? Shoot a fellow officer?"

Ronik thought about it seriously, but still found it difficult to understand this guy's logic. "After what you did, I think there is only one policeman and two criminals left here.

Put the gun down, you are under arrest, and by the way, Duval, you make me sick."

"My answer is still no." Duval was interrupted by a lazy voice before he could even utter the word "no".

"Actually, there are three policemen here."

Duval looked back in horror, and the gun in his hand inevitably deviated from its direction.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!" Ronick fired three shots in a row, killing Duval. The remaining nerve reaction still made him pull the trigger. The bullet grazed Bishop's ear and shot into the tree trunk behind him.

"Sheriff!" Alice, who was following Jack, ran towards Ronnick and held his arm.

Bishop endured the severe pain and stood up by holding the tree trunk. He raised his middle finger to Ronick and said, "Fuck you, Chief, I have never seen a police officer who shoots as sissy as you."

"I'm surprised you didn't shoot before me." Ronick gave Jack a wry smile.

Jack smiled back, "I never steal his chance to perform in front of a girl that someone else likes."

Alice punched Ronik, causing him to grimace in pain. "To be honest, Sheriff, I couldn't recognize you just now. You were so damned awesome, totally different from before."

"Really?" Ronik said with a smug look on his face. "You'll get used to it slowly. Do you still have cigarettes? Give me one. I've given away all my painkillers."

"There's one last one. Damn it, I shouldn't have sworn to quit smoking." Alice took out a crushed cigarette box from her body, stuffed the deformed ladies' cigarette into his mouth, and then continued to look for a lighter.

"I think cigarettes and cigars are two different words. Maybe your New Year's vow to quit smoking doesn't need to be so strict." Jack took out a box of cigars from his pocket and threw it to Alice along with a lighter.

"And you, Bishop, are you really not going to have one?" Then he looked at the big black guy who was about to leave quietly.

Bishop glanced at the man and woman who were lighting cigarettes with a slightly distressed look on his face, "Can't you just pretend you didn't see me like they did?"

"I told you that you are not part of my responsibility, but if you want to leave these woods alone, I will have to waste my New Year's holiday in this damn place."

Jack took Bishop's arm and lifted him up. "If you need anything, I can introduce you to a good lawyer."

-

The sky after the snowstorm looked exceptionally clear, as if all the clouds had been blown away by the strong wind.

The early morning sunshine drives away the mist in the forest, but people don’t feel much warmth when it falls on their bodies. The temperature after snow is usually lower than when it snows.

Police Station No. 13 not far away was still emitting black smoke. A snowplow and several fire trucks were parked on the side of the road, and more DPD police cars and a black Subaru were on their way.

A man in a black suit and several police officers came towards the four people who walked out of the woods. Seeing how embarrassed they looked, he seemed to be hesitant to speak.

"Agent Tawle? I'm Agent Rory McCoy. Are you okay?"

Jack had smoked less than half of the cigar in his mouth before he handcuffed Bishop and handed him over to two paramedics carrying a stretcher. Then he took the initiative to shake hands with the other party.

"Thank you for your support and Happy New Year."

Although it was still the traditional ending where reinforcements arrived after the matter was over, to be fair, it was already very difficult to arrive at such a speed in such horrible weather, and Jack had nothing to complain about.

"Uh, happy new year."

Seeing this young colleague, who was at least one generation younger than him but two levels higher in rank, suddenly say this, the agent was a little confused, and it took him a long time to remember what he should say.

"There are still some issues that need to be confirmed. I don't know."

"I'll submit a complete report later, and I have a few companions." Before Jack finished speaking, he saw Alex in a firefighter uniform waving at him.

Behind her was an ambulance, and the person lying face down inside should be John.

"Jeffrey has been taken to the hospital by helicopter, and John insisted on staying and waiting for you."

Jack thought for a while before he realized that Jeffrey should be the black state trooper he rescued. This guy was lucky. After all the trouble, he managed to hold on until the rescue arrived.

Ronnick was also sent to the ambulance, and at the insistence of Alex and Alice, everyone squeezed together and rushed to the hospital together.

After the debridement, infusion and suturing procedures, Ronnick and John stayed in the hospital with Alice. Jack, who had received many phone calls in the waiting area, was already a little restless and his eyes were a little red.

When he was considering whether to steal two sedatives in the hospital and then find a hotel to give himself an injection, Alex, who had just finished a phone call, came to Jack with a suspicious expression.

"Professor Cahill just called me and said you might need some help."