Los Angeles
The bright sunlight poured down from the sky, casting a warm glow over patches of green grass along the roadside, where a few blooming wildflowers attracted bees buzzing nearby.
Everything seemed peaceful and serene until the tranquility was shattered by the piercing sound of police sirens.
The ground trembled slightly—barely noticeable to human senses—just before three speeding cars raced past, chasing one another.
On Florence Avenue, a black Cadillac sedan led the charge, followed closely by two Ford police cars with flashing lights. The three vehicles weaved through traffic in a relentless pursuit, overtaking other cars as they staged a high-speed chase scene.
With fewer cars ahead, one of the police cars accelerated aggressively, pulling alongside the Cadillac. The police loudspeaker blared a warning: "LAPD! I order you to pull over immediately, or else—oh, shit..."
Before the officer could finish speaking, a gun suddenly emerged from the Cadillac's window.
Rat-a-tat-tat... Boom!
The police car swerved sharply, either because its tires were shot out or to avoid the onslaught of bullets. It slammed into the guardrail, flipping and rolling across the pavement.
The second police car swerved to avoid the wrecked vehicle and sped forward. The officer in the passenger seat returned fire, engaging in a shootout with the gunman in the Cadillac.
However, the police were only armed with handguns, while the Cadillac wielded heavier firepower. Bullets clanged off the police car's hood, forcing the driver to back off and maintain a safer distance.
"Go to hell! Die, die, die!"
The gunman leaned halfway out of the Cadillac window, firing wildly. However, the police car cleverly dodged, weaving into the gunman's blind spots each time he tried to aim.
Frustrated, the gunman quickly devised a new plan. The Cadillac overtook another vehicle—a Ford pickup truck this time. The police thought it was just another routine maneuver, but they were caught off guard when the Cadillac suddenly shifted its aim.
Bullets tore into the pickup's tires with a loud bang. The front wheel exploded, sending the pickup swerving erratically like a drunken giant. The remaining tires screeched as the vehicle lost control and crashed into one of the police cars.
The Cadillac sped away without hesitation, leaving the chaos behind. The accident involving the two vehicles caused a chain reaction, throwing the entire highway into disarray.
———
On 11th Street, Carlos was leisurely driving a Chevrolet, while Owen sat in the passenger seat, scanning the roadside. He knew that several small-time gun dealers often hung around the area. They might have useful intel.
Earlier that morning, a bank on Lyons Street had been robbed. The robbers were heavily armed, killing four security guards and one bank employee, and injuring over a dozen others. The heist netted approximately five million dollars.
The robbers had clearly planned the job meticulously, timing it perfectly during the brief window when the bank's armored truck was not present. The entire operation took less than three minutes—clean and efficient.
Security cameras at the bank had captured the robbery, but the footage provided few leads. The suspects wore masks, used fake license plates, and carried unregistered weapons.
The police had no leads thus far, making the case difficult. Captain George had ordered the entire major crimes unit to hit the streets and gather information.
Carlos had been driving Owen around for over an hour, but the usual troublemakers seemed unusually quiet today—nowhere to be found.
Suddenly, a voice crackled over the police radio:
"Attention all units: armed suspects in a black Cadillac, license plate NZ81J, have turned off Florence Avenue onto 11th Street. Nearby officers, intercept immediately. Be advised: suspects are heavily armed. Proceed with caution. I repeat..."
"T-7 responding. En route to intercept at 11th Street exit."
Owen grabbed his seatbelt, securing it tightly. He knew Carlos all too well—there was no way his partner would pass up the chance for some high-speed action.
Sure enough, Carlos yanked the steering wheel while pulling the handbrake. The Chevrolet tires screeched loudly as the SUV performed a sharp drift, spinning 180 degrees before tearing off toward the Florence Avenue exit.
Owen remembered they had passed that area just minutes ago.
"Zzz..."
Carlos executed a perfect drift, parking the SUV across the entrance where Florence met 11th Street, effectively blocking most of the road.
Both men rushed to the trunk, retrieving their gear. Each major crimes unit car was outfitted with a full arsenal: two bulletproof vests, an M4 rifle, a Remington M870 shotgun, flashbangs, handcuffs, spike strips, flashlights, and more.
Knowing the suspects were armed with heavy firepower, Owen and Carlos weren't taking any chances.
With practiced speed, they donned their gear. Owen grabbed the M4 and took cover behind the SUV's engine block—a spot fortified by machinery that could stop bullets. Carlos, meanwhile, positioned himself behind the bulletproof front door with the Remington M870. The reinforced door, lined with Kevlar, offered solid protection.
Just as they finished preparing, the black Cadillac came into view. Upon spotting the roadblock, the suspects opened fire from over a hundred meters away.
Bang! Bang-bang! Ping-ping!
Owen stayed hidden, listening intently. The gunfire sounded like it came from a modified M4.
Bullets peppered the SUV, shattering windows and puncturing a front tire. The vehicle shook under the assault.
Taking advantage of a lull in the gunfire, Owen rose and fired several bursts in quick succession. Although the department-issued M4 was fully automatic, his shots missed the driver as the car zigzagged.
Sparks flew as Owen's bullets struck the Cadillac's exterior. The gunman leaned out of the window, engaging Owen in a fierce exchange of fire.
Bang-bang-bang! Crash!
The Cadillac, now less than a hundred meters away, hurtled toward them at over 100 miles per hour. Carlos joined the fight, aiming exclusively for the driver's seat.
The gunfight intensified, with both sides trading relentless fire. Owen knew they were running out of time—if the gunman wasn't neutralized soon, they would be in grave danger at close range.
Owen forced himself to stay calm, focusing intently. Something shifted inside him. His heart rate surged to over 400 beats per minute as adrenaline flooded his system. His senses sharpened dramatically, slowing down time in a surreal "bullet-time" effect.
Calculating the vehicle's trajectory, he adjusted his aim and waited for the perfect moment.
Now!
Owen squeezed the trigger. The muzzle flashed, and a burst of bullets sliced through the air, hitting the gunman dead-on.
Got him!
Owen exhaled, his vision returning to normal. His heart pounded violently, feeling like it might explode.
Carlos was still firing, shouting something about Owen landing the shot. With a final barrage from the shotgun, the Cadillac's windshield turned red as the vehicle veered off course and slammed into the side of the Chevrolet.
Boom!
The impact shook the two-ton SUV violently. The Cadillac's front end crumpled into the Chevy, and the gunman was ejected from the car.
Owen felt a powerful jolt before everything went dark.