Jack found Hannah's actions amusing and reached out to tuck the strand of hair sticking to her lips behind her ear, nodding slightly.
"Honestly, I'm curious about what Tim plans to do to avoid this little gadget." As he spoke, he turned on the body camera on his chest.
Two police cars turned off their engines and stopped at a corner more than 200 meters away from the cabin to avoid being discovered.
The four officers, armed with long guns, crouched in the woods about 50 meters southeast of the cabin. This time, the shotgun was handed to Hannah, who would be responsible for breaking down the door.
Just as Tim was about to order the advance, the cabin door suddenly opened. A burly white man, shirtless with tattooed arms, came out holding an axe in his right hand while adjusting his belt with his left hand, walking unsteadily.
As the door opened, faint sounds of a girl's crying and pleading could be heard from inside. Tim took out a small telescope.
"Confirmed suspect Angus Lucius. There's a sawed-off Remington shotgun stuck to his back and a handgun at his waist."
The suspect, Lucius, turned to the back of the cabin with his axe, disappearing from their sight. Soon, the sound of chopping wood came from behind the cabin.
Tim lowered the volume on his walkie-talkie and reported to the command center, "We've located the suspect Angus Lucius in Kenneth Hahn State Park. Location marked. Requesting immediate backup. The suspect is heavily armed and extremely dangerous. There are hostages inside. We may need an ambulance."
Then he turned around and whispered, "The suspect and hostages are separated. Now is a good chance. Jack and I will go around the back to deal with the suspect. John and Hannah, go inside to secure the hostages."
The other three nodded, following Tim as they crouched towards the cabin.
When the four reached the cabin's entrance, Tim signaled John and Hannah to go inside. Then he pressed against the wooden wall, with his M16 shouldered, ready to move to the back.
Following behind, Jack held his breath, sensing something was off. His heightened senses, after recently increasing his mental power, detected that the chopping sound had abruptly stopped.
Jack's mind tensed. Before he could warn Tim, an axe struck the barrel of Tim's M16 as he rounded the corner.
Tim reacted swiftly. Almost simultaneously with losing his grip on the rifle, he lunged forward, grappling with Lucius.
Jack, ready to advance and demand the suspect surrender, didn't expect Lucius to kick Tim towards him after realizing there was more than one opponent. Lucius then turned and fled.
As he ran, Lucius drew the Remington from his back, firing wildly at the two officers. After emptying the rounds, he discarded the gun and dashed into the dense forest.
Jack reacted quickly, raising his gun and grabbing Tim's tactical vest with his left hand as Tim, having been kicked, blocked his line of fire.
Seeing Lucius draw the Remington, Jack twisted his body, pulling Tim to the cabin's corner. They both took cover just as the shotgun's pellets shattered the cabin's wooden corner, sending splinters flying.
"You can let go now," Tim groaned in pain, almost crushed against the cabin wall by Jack's brute strength. Turning around, they locked eyes.
They simultaneously realized their awkward position, resembling a "kabedon" scene, and in unison said, "Don't tell anyone about this."
From a cabin window, Hannah peeked out, saw the scene, and couldn't help but laugh.
"Need help?"
"No, we'll pursue the suspect. You protect the hostages and wait for backup."
Tim, frustrated, drew his handgun. Whether intentionally or not, his elbow brushed hard against Jack's chest, knocking off his body camera.
Jack hesitated but didn't pick it up. Looking at Tim's chest, he noticed that Tim's body camera had also fallen off, possibly during their scuffle or for some other reason.
Truly cunning. Lesson learned.
Following Tim into the forest, Jack regretted bringing the M16. Though he had the stamina to carry Hannah and still keep pace within a few kilometers, a rifle was cumbersome in the woods. Jack slung the M16 over his shoulder, drew his Glock, and focused on the trampled branches and the sounds around him.
After less than ten minutes of pursuit, Tim suddenly stopped, raising his handgun and shouting, "Hands up, Lucius. You have nowhere to run."
Jack slipped behind a large tree on the right, aiming at a figure about 10 meters ahead.
Before them was a low cliff with a small stream trickling down, forming a misty pool below.
The suspect, Lucius, stood with his back to them, staring blankly. He dropped his M1911 at his feet, turned around with a creepy smile, and knelt, hands behind his head.
Tim held his position, signaling Jack to watch for incoming threats. Jack stepped back into the underbrush, keeping his gun trained on Lucius and his senses alert.
Seeing Tim's icy stare and unwavering aim, Lucius's smile faltered. Noticing Jack's disappearance, his expression turned frantic.
"I dropped my gun. What do you want?"
Tim's voice was as cold as his gaze, his mouth curling into a cruel smirk. "Pick up your gun, Private Angus Lucius."
Lucius panicked, waving his hands frantically. "No, you can't do this. I dropped my gun. Arrest me. You're a cop."
Tim's furious shout cut him off. "We were both proud Marines once. Your actions disgrace our honor. Now pick up your weapon, soldier."
Lucius's eyes darted to the gun at his feet, his body trembling. "No, please. I have PTSD. I can't. You can't do this."
Tim remained unmoved, his fury intensifying at Lucius's cowardice. "You have two choices: pick up that gun and shoot yourself, or I'll shoot you dead."
With that, he spat on the ground.
Lucius, terrified, began to cry, trembling as he reached for the gun.
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