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

Several armed men, armed with assault rifles such as AKs, rushed into the plane through 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.

Travelers on the hills to the north can also clearly see everything happening here. Even if their eyesight is not good, the crisp sound of gunfire can clearly reach their ears.

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

Seeing that the three of them were silent, the skinny monkey leader smiled ferociously and put the muzzle of his gun on the head of the bald old white man.

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 towns there to ask 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 gave way and he fell backwards to the ground, waving his hands wildly, fearing that a 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.

"Stab it."

"No, it's the only one we believe in."

"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 walking along the main road for a short time before entering a 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.

Another boy next to him cleverly took out his mobile phone, turned on the camera function, and started taking pictures.

".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 cried out. He moved his knees and crawled away quickly on the ground, but he was still splashed with blood.

When the wife, who was already in rags, saw her husband being beheaded, she was so frightened that she collapsed to the ground, let out a shrill scream, and then lost consciousness.

"Ariullah. Jili Guala"

A strong man with long hair stepped out of the car 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 strong man leader said loudly to the other men, "You stay here and pack away all useful things such as computers, jewelry, and tablets. Then check if there are any valuables on the plane. 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 was gradually rising above the head and the temperature was getting higher and higher. The four gangsters were rummaging 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 like that, they will scream in excitement, then they will get together to study it, discuss the value, and finally hand it over to one of the guys with long shawl 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-toting gangsters opposite him, and this guy actually wanted to sneak attack with just 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.

"Are you good at pistol shooting? We are at least 50 meters away from each other now. Before alerting each other, I want you to kill at least three of them and leave one alive for me."

Jack calmly handed over the Glock in his hand, with the gun handle 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 seems to have nothing to do with what he wants to explain.

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

Jack took out the water bottle from his backpack, held it in his hand, and smiled slightly, "Have you seen the 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.

"Are you the Starbucks God of War? Don't lie to me, your first shot was really not a matter of luck? Although the video is not very clear, anyone who knows anything can tell that the guy was shot in the head 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 nodded through gritted teeth.

"I can crawl over and get as close to them as possible, but you better be as good as you say you are."

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

Sorry for the delay,

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