Bogotá, Colombia
In a suburban villa, an old man with a fierce countenance lay on a reclining chair, watching the sunrise. A subordinate leaned in and whispered in his ear, "Catur and his men are planning to rescue Alex this morning. They hope you'll grant them a little more time…"
This old man was Blanco Montel, the current head of the Montel family. He nodded. "They promised me they would take care of Alex, so they must follow through. If they fail, neither they nor their families have any reason to exist…"
9:00 AM
A police car and a transport bus exited the gates of the West Hollywood Precinct.
Detective George personally led the transfer, accompanied by two detectives from the Major Crimes Unit. The bus carried thirteen prisoners scheduled for relocation to the Los Angeles County Jail, located several dozen kilometers away. Among them was Alex Montel.
Drug lords in the U.S. were known for their ruthlessness, willing to do anything. To maintain secrecy, only a few people were aware of this transfer. Aside from George, none of the other officers escorting the prisoners knew about Alex's true identity.
Following at a discreet distance were two SUVs carrying Owen's Team A and FBI agent Brad, who was responsible for receiving the prisoner.
To avoid drawing attention, they were driving civilian vehicles and had ditched their helmets, though they were still fully armed beneath their attire. From the outside, they looked like regular travelers.
According to the FBI's plan, the prisoner exchange was set to take place at a rest stop 25 kilometers outside Los Angeles. That area was well away from the city, with fewer people around. Until then, the FBI's vehicles would shadow the convoy from a distance.
"Boss, something's off. Two Ford SUVs have been tailing us for a while now…"
Behind the wheel, Carlos noticed the anomaly and calmly reported it to George.
George knew that the Ford SUVs were FBI vehicles and signaled for Carlos to ignore them. The convoy continued forward.
After a few more blocks, they entered one of Los Angeles' busiest commercial districts—an area popular with tourists.
Owen was driving the second vehicle, following the lead SUV driven by Campbell.
Suddenly, the sharp screech of tires rang out. Two Chevrolets came barreling out of a side street, one cutting in front of the police car, the other boxing in the transport bus.
The ambush was unmistakable.
Owen and his team immediately hit the gas to close the gap.
Then came the gunfire.
"RATATATATATATATA—"
Several armed assailants jumped out of the Chevrolets, brandishing AK-47s, and opened fire on the police car and transport bus. The vehicles were forced to a halt, with the bus's tires blown out. The driver and escorting officers inside were hit, slumping in their seats, bleeding.
George, caught off guard, took a bullet. His police-issue body armor was no match for the 7.62mm rounds from the AKs. Another detective in the car was shot in the head, his body slumping lifelessly.
In an instant, Carlos was the only one left capable of fighting back. The gunfire hammered against the vehicles, shattering windows, denting metal, and making movement nearly impossible.
Crouched behind the driver's seat, Carlos saw George was still conscious but unable to move. He grabbed George's M4—the only long gun in the vehicle—and lifted it over his head, blindly firing outside.
The attackers weren't in a rush. They had taken out most of the escort officers and were keeping Carlos pinned down with suppressive fire.
Meanwhile, at the rear, another group of gunmen rushed toward the bus.
One gunman stayed outside to provide cover, occasionally helping suppress Carlos, while another shot out the bus's glass door and climbed inside.
Inside the bus, the prisoners went wild. Dressed in bright orange jumpsuits, they were all convicted criminals awaiting their sentences. Seeing what was happening, they howled in excitement.
The intruding gunman quickly located Alex Montel. They weren't just random attackers—they were his father's men.
After unlocking Alex's handcuffs, the gunman tossed the key to the other prisoners. If they all escaped, it would throw the city into chaos and divert police resources away from the real extraction operation.
Just then, Owen and his team arrived.
Their SUV screeched to a stop beside the transport bus, and Team A members swiftly disembarked, using their vehicle as cover.
Owen immediately targeted the gunmen suppressing Carlos. His top priority was his brother-in-arms.
The arrival of SWAT relieved some pressure on Carlos. Through the haze of battle, he spotted his allies—specifically, Owen in SWAT gear.
"CALL AN AMBULANCE!"
Carlos shouted. George was still alive but losing blood fast. Every second counted.
He didn't need to say it twice—Brad had already called 911, providing a full report. More police and SWAT teams were en route.
The sudden firefight sent the commercial district into chaos. Initially, people panicked, but soon, many chose not to run away. Instead, they whipped out their cameras and DV recorders, risking stray bullets for the perfect shot.
After all, this was Los Angeles, home of Hollywood. Police shootouts were common in movies, but seeing one in real life? That was a first.
"BANG! BANG! BANG!"
Owen fired, striking a gunman's foot. The attacker collapsed, but he was smart—he stayed behind cover.
Owen then shot out the front tires of one of the Chevrolets. The vehicle dropped suddenly, crushing the injured gunman's leg. He howled in agony.
"RATATATATATATATA!"
With the pressure on Carlos lifted, he finally had room to move. He threw open the door, taking cover behind the car, and fired back.
On the other side, ASH and Monica gunned down a rifleman attempting to reposition at the front of the bus. The attackers were dropping fast. With two men down, the remaining three, having already freed Alex, began retreating.
The bus blocked much of the line of sight. ASH, Zealot, and Monica secured the front, while the remaining four team members covered the rear.
Suddenly—
Thwip-thwip-thwip!
Zealot staggered and fell backward, hit.
"ZEALOT'S HIT! CASTLE, GET HIM!"
"Got it."
ASH shouted, maintaining suppressive fire alongside Monica.
Campbell, codename Castle, slung his M4A1 over his back and dashed forward. He dragged the unconscious Zealot to the ground and checked his wounds.
There were two bullet holes in Zealot's vest, and blood was trickling from his head.
Campbell pressed down on his wounds, then checked the head injury. "It's just a graze!" he shouted. He then slipped his hand under Zealot's vest—no blood. The vest had stopped the bullets.
Checking for a pulse, he confirmed, "Zealot's alive! He's just knocked out!"
Hearing this, the team let out a collective breath of relief.
"Damn it! Without our heavy armor, this is a nightmare!"
Morris, positioned near Owen, cursed while firing. Because they were in civilian vehicles, they hadn't brought all their gear. His ballistic shield and heavy armor were missing, making the fight far more dangerous.
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