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

Chapter 229 A tragic moment

Armed with assault rifles such as AKs, several militants rushed into the plane from the cargo hatch, and quickly ran out again, chattering loudly.

"Where is the captain, and where are the other passengers? Why are there only the three of you?"

The little man wearing a turban and as skinny as a monkey looked like the leader among them, yelling at the three of them in broken English.

This group of militants seemed to have received at least basic training. Only seven or eight people gathered around them, surrounding the couple from the big country of the universe and the bald old white man in the middle.

The rest of the people spread out and watched the surroundings vigilantly. There was always someone standing on the pickup truck with the M2 machine gun.

Jack, who was hiding in the bushes, sighed softly. Things were indeed developing in the worst direction.

Passengers on the hill in the north can also clearly see what happened here, even if their eyesight is not so good, the crisp gunshots can still be heard clearly in their ears.

The women covered their mouths one after another, and everyone tried their best to hide their bodies behind bushes or tree trunks, for fear of being discovered by militants in the distance.

Seeing that the three were silent, the leader of the thin monkey grinned grimly and put the muzzle of the gun on the bald old white man's head.

The old white man trembled and pointed in the direction they came from, "They said they were going to the southwest, and went to the town there for help."

"Nonsense, why didn't we see it on the way here?"

The skinny monkey leader cursed angrily, stabbing the old white man's bald head hard with the gun in his hand, and sprayed his face with disgusting saliva.

The old white man's feet were weak, and he fell backwards to the ground, waving his hands wildly, fearing that the bullet would pierce his head in the next second.

On the other side, several armed men with silver smiles on their faces surrounded the couple from the great country in the universe, pushing the two of them constantly while speaking incomprehensible bird language.

"Thorn."

"No, what we believe in is also the only one."

"Ah!" Seeing that the actions of several people became more and more excessive, and even began to tear their clothes, the man roared in humiliation, but was pinned to the ground by the two men.

"I saw them not go long along the main road, and then they went into the path in the jungle. I don't know anything else. Really, don't kill me, please"

The old white man knelt on the ground and begged, not daring to turn his head to the side, completely daring not to look at the tragedy happening around him.

The skinny monkey leader snorted, ignored him, walked around him, took the machete handed by one of his men, and stood next to the husband.

The other younger brother beside him cleverly took out his mobile phone, turned on the camera function, and started shooting.

".Supreme!" After shouting this sentence, the skinny monkey leader waved hard, and a human head rolled down.

"Ah..." The old white man was so frightened by this scene that he moved his knees and quickly crawled away on the ground, but he was still splashed with blood.

Seeing the scene of her husband being beheaded, the already ragged wife was so frightened that she collapsed to the ground, let out a shrill scream, and then lost consciousness.

"Ariulla Jiriguala"

A strong man with long hair got out of the car at this moment, and slapped the skinny monkey leader on the back of the head. He seemed a little angry. It seemed that he was the real leader of these people.

The strong man waved his hand and asked people to take the two still alive hostages into the car. He also scolded the little boss a few times and motioned for him to clean up the mess in front of him.

The little leader of the Skinny Monkey called two of his men to help him throw the headless corpse on the ground, together with the severed head, into the back of a pickup truck.

The leader of the strong man said loudly to several other subordinates, "Stay here, pack all the useful things like computers, jewelry, and tablets, and then check if there are any valuable things on the plane, and come back before dark."

After saying that, he took the others, including the pickup truck with the M2 machine gun, and drove away, leaving only four people and two vehicles at the scene.

The sun gradually rose above the head, and the temperature was getting higher and higher. The four gangsters rummaged through the pile of suitcases left by the passengers, collecting things they thought were valuable.

From time to time, when they find a watch or something, they will shout excitedly, and then get together to study it, discuss the value, and finally hand it over to one of the guys with shawl and long hair like a woman for safekeeping.

Jack secretly performed a treatment on himself to remove the bumps of various sizes left by mosquitoes on his body. Then he took out the Glock 17 and checked the condition of the gun. It was in good condition.

"What do you want to do?" Gaspare's eyes widened, and he looked at him in disbelief. There were four gun-wielding gangsters on the opposite side. This guy actually wanted to sneak attack with a pistol?

"I need your help." Jack looked at him seriously.

"Why the hell am I not going to die with you? I don't even have a knife. There are four assault rifles on the opposite side. Do I expect them to all jam?" Gasparre said angrily.

"Then are you good at pistol shooting? Now we are at least 50 meters away from each other. Before alarming each other, I want you to kill at least three of them and leave one alive for me."

Jack calmly handed out the Glock in his hand, with the handle of the gun facing the opponent.

"Can you do it?" Gasparre did not take the gun, but tried to lower his voice and asked angrily with his round eyes.

"Is there internet in Bali?" Jack's question seemed irrelevant to what he was trying to explain.

"Of course, what do you want to explain?" Gaspare was taken aback by his question.

Jack took out the water bottle from his backpack, held it in his hand, and smiled slightly, "Did you see a video half a month ago? The shooting in Los Angeles."

Gaspare's big eyes moved back and forth between his face and the water bottle in his hand, and it took him a long time before he asked in a stern voice.

"You are the God of War at Starbucks? Don't lie to me, your first shot was really not luck? Although the video is not very clear, anyone who knows how to do it can see that the guy was headshot with the first shot."

"You were at least thirty to forty meters apart at the time." Gaspare emphasized his tone at the end.

"It's forty-one meters. Someone measured it for me afterwards. The man in a suit holding two guns and shooting is my boss. Do you think I dare to try my luck?"

Jack snorted disdainfully, took a sip of water, and put the bottle back. Systematic people are so confident.

After speaking, he pointed at the long-haired man who was responsible for keeping valuables, "That one looks like the leader among the others. I'm responsible for taking care of the other three. You can control him, is that okay?"

Gaspare carefully observed the positions of several people, hesitated for a long time, and then gritted his teeth and nodded.

"I can crawl over and get as close to them as I can, but you'd better blow as hard as you can."

I was not satisfied with this chapter, so I rewrote it.

Sorry for the delay,

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