Luke listened to the song quietly.
Unexpectedly, the old guy sang well.
He sang it with a smile, but how much experience of blood and tears is in it can only be experienced personally.
It's a pity for this old guy to be a killer! Should be a stand-up show actor, or a singer or something! Luke commented in his heart.
The vehicle traveled all the way west in the dark, heading for the seaside ferry.
There was silence on the country road at night, and Kincaid, who was tired from singing, also fell asleep.
No matter how tough this old guy was, he couldn't resist the exhaustion caused by blood loss.
Luke sat quietly in the back seat, suddenly his expression changed, he moved his body position slightly, and looked at the rear of the car from the rearview mirror.
"We've got company," he said.
Michael looked at the rearview mirror on the side: "How do you know?"
Luke: "Don't accelerate suddenly, slow down a little bit, this is not a car chase movie."
Michael: "Are you sure?"
Luke drew out the gun under his arm: "It's just an SUV, with a maximum of five people. There are no police here."
Michael only hesitated a little, but followed his words.
He didn't see much of Luke's shots, but he was no worse than him.
It is naturally the best to solve the worries and move on.
Michael kept an eye on the car chasing him, and asked in a low voice, "Isn't your name Kincaid?"
The opponent can be dealt with without Kincaid, but he is afraid that the black bald head who is sleeping with his head up will be killed in the firefight.
Luke: "It's okay, won't you be relieved when he dies? Don't let him keep teaching you thirty-six love strategies."
Michael: "…"
He felt that it was acceptable to put up with the heart-wrenching words of a certain black bald head compared to getting back a 3A rating.
Luke lowered the window silently, and lowered his body slightly, just observing the car behind him with the rearview mirror.
Under his reminder, Michael's slowly reducing speed did not arouse the vigilance of the other party.
The gangsters were not stupid, they just moved faster than Michael's car, acting like a normal night-time car.
Luke could only laugh without saying a word.
He had seen this car when he was evacuating from the safe house. The people on it had an obvious mercenary temperament, and it happened to choose the same route in the middle of the night.
Luke opened his mouth and reminded softly: "You come to the countdown, and when the countdown is complete, brake suddenly."
Michael understood in seconds, and began to count in his mouth: "Fifteen, fourteen..."
Luke: ... Peat, don't you count down from five? Even ten is fine.
Of course he understood that Michael's countdown was actually the time when the vehicles of both sides were close together.
"Eight, seven..."
Luke has reconfirmed the license plate of this car, which is the one outside the safe house.
"three two… "
Luke's feet pressed against the back of the driver's seat, and his body rose a little.
"one!"
crunch!
There was a sudden sound of brakes, and the speed of the Mercedes-Benz dropped sharply, but it still remained stable, without skidding or overturning.
Michael's driving level is also not low, knowing that to create the best shooting conditions for Luke, the brakes are sharp but not abrupt.
Luke stood up following the inertia, and Glock pulled the trigger on the black SUV passing by the car window almost without moving the muzzle.
On the co-pilot and the rear seat of the SUV on the right, three big men with guns didn't have time to react. A series of bullets shot from front to back. Everyone's head and half body were shot more than twice.
Luke snorted, "There's something wrong with that driver."
In the shooting just now, he didn't miss the driver's target, but the driver's body slipped instantly and he missed a single shot.
Michael stopped the car smoothly: "How did they track us down? I deliberately chose the road going west, just not wanting to be blocked by them in the east tunnel."
Kincaid's lazy African voice sounded: "Surveillance, there were surveillance cameras when you stole the car."
Michael shook his head: "Impossible, after I drove, I walked east for a while, and then went back to the west."
Luke: "You two, now is the time to witness a miracle, can you respect this Mr. Driver a little bit?"
The two chatterboxes in front also noticed that not far from the side of the road, the driver of the black suv got out and was walking staggeringly.
Kincaid: "I don't have a gun, so please."
Michael: "I'm a security guard, not a killer."
Luke curled his lips: "This Mr. driver is not human either!"
As he spoke, the Glock in his hand fired continuously.
The driver who was approaching on the opposite side suddenly accelerated, and his trajectory could hardly be seen in the dark night.
"Th!?" The two chatterboxes yelled almost in unison.
The driver's movement is almost pulling out afterimages, which is definitely not the speed that normal people can possess.
Luke unhurriedly replaced the Glock with a new magazine.
The approaching driver, flashing from side to side, stopped suddenly, touched his body with both hands, jumped up and down, and screamed: "Ah! Why do you hit me every time?"
The talking and chatting duo also noticed that the guy had seven or eight bullet holes in his upper body and was bleeding continuously.
The strange thing is that with so many bullets in the chest and abdomen, and the wound was still bleeding, the driver was still full of breath, screaming in pain while jumping.
Thinking of what Luke said, Michael raised his gun.
Clap clap!
He emptied the magazine, didn't rush to see his results, but turned to look at his head: "tf?!"
Kincaid was holding a gun, leaning against his head.
But Michael hampered his shooting range.
Kincaid slapped him on the face: "Don't block me! You missed him with your bad marksmanship!"
Clap clap!
Kincaid's magazine was also quickly emptied.
Michael sat up and began to sneer: "Wow, it seems that your marksmanship is also pretty bad."
Kincaid: "... I hit him three times, and you only hit him twice. I hit him in the chest and abdomen three times, and you hit the arm once. I said there is something wrong with your poor marksmanship? "
Luke was speechless, too lazy to talk to these two guys, pushed the door and got out of the car.
At this moment, the unlucky driver with more than a dozen bullet holes on his body was full of disbelief: "Impossible, why can you all hit me?"
Luke didn't answer, but secretly smiled in his heart.
Even if you don't count yourself, Kincaid and Michael are guys with good combat effectiveness among ordinary humans, and their gun use is far beyond ordinary people.
This driver just wanted to dodge all the bullets by relying on his speed, which is too underestimating.
His speed is not enough to dodge bullets, and he lacks the skill of gun fighting, so it is normal to be shot.
With a flick of Luke's right hand, a telescopic swing stick was shaken away, and he walked towards the driver who was covered in bullet holes.
The driver bared his teeth, hissed, and rushed forward.
The chatter duo over there also pushed the door to get out of the car, and Michael quickly said, "Wow, wow, I think, why don't you all sit down and talk?"