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

"Open the door, speed!" The seemingly solid iron door did not hold up for more than 2 seconds before being easily opened by the hydraulic clamps. The three Jacks followed a group of SWATs and filed in through the side door of the warehouse, followed by three teams of six people.

"Enter the target building and follow."

"Team B clears the left side and Team A continues forward."

Feeling Hannah pat his shoulder behind him, Jack also patted the shoulder of a SWAT team member in front of him, indicating that his teammates were in position and could continue to move forward.

Aubrey and another group of SWAT team members followed the pre-planned walk along the corridor to the corridor leading to the second floor.

This warehouse area is too big. Even if one or two hundred police officers are mobilized, they may not be able to form a tight encirclement, so the ordinary NYPD police officers who came to support were simply placed on the outside.

Because it involved the murder of his own police officer, Chief Frank Regan mobilized the NYPD's own SWAT team, the ESU, to cooperate. After the FBI's successful raid, they would search several surrounding warehouses.

They are mainly responsible for the two auxiliary warehouse areas in the east and west directions. The reason for this arrangement is really helpless. After all, although FBI-SWAT and ESU communicate frequently, they are not the same force after all. They can only use such simple partitions to prevent friendly injuries.

Sometimes having more people is not necessarily a good thing. To use a simple analogy, the commander of a US military task force of about a hundred people starts with at least the rank of major. Under him, he needs a bunch of lieutenants and sergeants to ensure the success of this team. Basic degree of organization.

Even in the most ordinary army structure, the commander of a company-level unit of one to two hundred people must be a captain plus a lieutenant, deputy company commander, several platoon commanders and second lieutenants, and a bunch of veteran sergeants.

If you just casually put two SWAT units that are not under each other's control, you can easily command them like an arm and a finger. This kind of thing probably only happens in games.

Jack followed SWAT all the way along the wall. When he walked around a pile of shelves, the line automatically split into two lines. When entering the last corridor, it automatically merged into one line. Unknowingly, he reached the front of the line.

He has cooperated with SWAT many times, and they have a certain tacit understanding between them. In other words, capable people will be respected wherever they go, especially in front-line combat units that face danger at all times.

He can knock down the most recognized among them in the boxing ring, compete with the one with the best marksmanship on the shooting range, and smile until the end every time he participates in a CQB drill.

When such a person rushes to the front, no one will think that he wants to take credit, but he will feel safe.

Looking at the faint lights in the room separated by plastic sheets in front of him, Jack stopped and pulled up the night vision goggles, making a stop gesture.

The people behind him followed suit. They all pulled up their night vision goggles, held their breath slightly, and tried to widen their eyes to adapt to the change in light as quickly as possible.

Feeling someone tap on his shoulder again, Jack leaned out half of his body and carefully used the muzzle of the HK416 to lift the plastic curtain hanging at the door.

There was a metal desk in the room. Two people were sitting across from each other, looking down at something and looking through something. It looked like they were checking accounts. Facing him was the Latino driver who shot the motorcycle policeman in the previous video. .

The person facing Jack's back was a short, stocky, middle-aged man. His hair was a little sparse, but he still managed to comb his hair back. Both of them were wearing expensive handmade Italian suits, just like those common wealthy people on the streets of New York. capitalist.

The difference is that wealthy capitalists will not keep a Beretta 92 pistol handy when reviewing their accounts. It seems that they have found the right person.

"FBI! Don't move!"

Jack shouted loudly and rushed into the room first. The Latino driver who was facing him reacted quickly. When he heard the sound of the plastic door curtain, he already touched the pistol at hand.

"Puff puff!" However, he was facing the FBI's current top combat force. Jack's reaction was faster than him, and he pulled the trigger repeatedly without hesitation. The silencer-equipped HK416's gunshot was not loud, and in an instant, There were several bloody holes in his chest.

Although he didn't know whether this guy was Anthony Vargas' driver and bodyguard, or his most trusted subordinate or deputy, Jack would not hesitate at all.

A dead drug lord is a good drug lord. He doesn't care whether his superiors want to capture him alive. Anyway, in this kind of raid, it is impossible for someone to forcefully order someone to survive.

So he looked at Anthony Vargas, who had his back turned to him, and subconsciously reached for the pistol on the table without saying a word. If there were still SWAT agents wearing night vision goggles at this time, they would be able to find it, even with the naked eye. The infrared laser spot of vision is always shining steadily on the shiny big back.

"Federal agent! Put your hands up!" If Jack didn't warn, others would naturally warn him. The SWAT team members behind him shouted loudly and filed in, standing apart along both sides of the wall. Hannah bent down and carried HK416 stood next to Jack, also silent.

The muffled sound of the deputy's body falling to the ground made Vargas, who had always turned his back to everyone, tremble slightly. As if he sensed some kind of murderous intention, his hand that reached for the pistol stopped abruptly, and then slowly took it back. .

"Don't shoot, I have my hands up." He raised his hands and turned around slowly. When he saw the muzzles of two FBI agents pointed at his forehead, his face twitched unconsciously.

It had been years since Vargas had experienced anything like this, whether it was being pointed at a gun or being stared at with such deadly eyes.

In fact, Jack had no chance at this moment. Although he didn't really want to catch anyone alive, and as an FBI agent, he didn't need to carry any law enforcement recorders when operating. However, the SWAT team members who followed later were equipped with night vision goggles on their helmets. A single-soldier image transmission camera was installed.

In the command vehicle outside and in the operations center of the Federal Building, there were countless pairs of eyes watching the scene in front of them.

However, Jack has no personal grudges with this guy. Although Jubal said before that an FBI agent died at the hands of Vargas, that was 7 years ago and had nothing to do with him. There was no need to kill him on the spot. Kill to avenge others.

In fact, everyone, including Jubal and Dana Moger, prefers to catch Vargas alive, and then convict Vargas through the judicial process, and even have him personally confess to the crime of killing FBI agents, and then make an announcement through the media. The world.

After all, seven years have passed. The crime will not be mitigated by the passage of time, but the public perception will be reduced.

After a few years, news suddenly came out that the FBI killed the suspect who murdered one of its own agents. This is just like a cool novel. The cool points appear without any foreshadowing. Readers will not buy it, and the same goes for the public. Too.

"Turn around, keep your head up and your hands up." Hannah put the assault rifle behind her back, took out the handcuffs and ordered like a common suspect.

Jack also took a half-step forward, and the HK416's silencer almost poked Wags' ear, "Don't do anything dangerous, although I really wanted to see you holding that Beretta 92 in your hands. "

Vargas snorted coldly. Although Hannah cuffed the handcuffs so tightly that he couldn't help but cry out in pain, he still tried to maintain his boss look. According to the information, this guy is of Italian descent, and indeed Italian guys are quite capable. Pretended.

"Kill one person, the main target is controlled, the whereabouts of the other two are unknown, Aubrey, pay attention, they may be on your side." Jack reminded in the communication channel.

"Copy that, we'll continue the search," Aubrey replied from upstairs.

"Jack, confirm that the one you arrested is Vargas." Although Jubal was watching everything in the combat center, the light in the room was still dim, and the real-time picture of the individual soldier's video transmission camera was too high, so he was still uneasy. Confirm again according to the process.

"Confirm." Before Jack could finish his words, he heard an uncontrollable low cheer coming from the communication channel.

Jubal's voice also became obviously much more relaxed, "Bring this son of a bitch back immediately!"

Jack was a little surprised, "Send back to headquarters?"

"Yes, bring this bastard to 26 Federal Plaza. I will interrogate him personally." Dana Moger's order came from the channel.