American Comprehensive Detective: Start with a black gun

Chapter 13: Chapter 13

In the dead of night, there was a sudden gunshot.

"Oh!"

Ron opened his eyes abruptly and slowly got up from the bed.

He grabbed the pistol on the bed table and walked carefully to the living room.

Ears pressed against the wall.

"Bang, bang!"

Two gunshots sounded again.

Kind of like a silenced gunshot, but not quite.

The sound is very small, if the body has not been modified.

Or maybe he couldn't hear at all.

The sound came from the next room, but it wasn't Sandy's room.

Because Sandy's room is on the other side.

Ron thought of the two wanted notices he had seen on TV earlier.

Holding the Glock pistol tightly with his right hand, he quietly walked to the wooden door, took a deep breath, and waited quietly.

"Crench!"

There was a slight sound of the door opening.

The footsteps were getting closer.

Suddenly, the gap under the wooden door went dark and then bright.

"Anti-anti-anti..."

Ron pulled the trigger without hesitation, sawdust flying, and the bullet shot out through the wooden door.

"Well!"

There was a muffled groan at the door.

Without the slightest hesitation, Ron stepped back to the side wall.

"Oh!"

A crisp sound.

The door lock was broken from the outside.

"Click" the lock fell off.

Ron leaned against the thick wall.

His eyes were fixed on the door, his heart was beating wildly.

Taking a deep breath, he quietly waited for the other party to push open the door.

Just in time, there was a door opening sound outside the corridor.

Sandy's voice sounded from outside the corridor.

"FBI, hands up!"

"Anti-anti-anti..."

Intensive gunfire sounded.

The gunshots came from the hallway to the door of the next room.

Ron guessed that it was Sandy who heard the gunshots here, walked out of the room, and exchanged fire with people outside.

Ron opened the wooden door with three large holes, held guns in both hands, and rolled out.

"Oh!"

The door frame exploded overhead.

The sawdust hit my head, and it hurt.

It's too late to recall the danger of bullets passing overhead.

A figure with blood dripping from his trouser legs appeared in front of him.

"Anti-anti-anti..."

The guy with the long hair got shot four times.

His appearance is exactly the same as the photo on the wanted notice.

Unsurprisingly, he was the killer Anton Chigurh.

Anton's hands and feet were shot.

In his right hand he held a bolt-action gun, pointing the muzzle at Ron on the ground.

But, before he could aim and pull the trigger.

Ron had shot him in both hands and feet, and blood was bubbling from the wound.

Except just four shots.

His right arm and waist were shot in various ways, and his figure was crumbling.Ron guessed that he should have shot through the wooden door just now.

It was so lively outside the corridor just now, Sandy didn't shoot a single shot?
Ron quietly touched a cold sweat.

Ma De, teammates are really pitiful.

If his marksmanship hadn't been accurate enough, he might have hit the street by now.

"Stay still, raise your hands."

Seeing that there was no danger, Sandy rushed over bravely.

The muzzle pointed at Anton's back, frantically showing his presence.

"Kneel down and hold your head."

Anton's ferocious face was full of astonishment.

It is estimated that even he did not expect to meet two FBIs in the motel.

Although one of them is good at cooking, the other's marksmanship is surprisingly accurate.

Immediately, a cruel smile suddenly appeared on Anton's face, and he was about to pull the bolt gun to kill Ron.

Ron on the ground narrowed his eyes slightly, and pulled the trigger without hesitation.

"anti!"

The bullet passed through Anton's head, and something red and white splashed across Sandy's face as he rushed forward.

"Fuck, fuck..."

Sandy's frantic yelling and cursing sounded.

Anton looked astonished.

Unexpectedly, never expected.

Ron would be so ruthless that he would directly kill himself with the slightest movement.

Is this still the police?

It's even more ruthless than a murderous demon like myself!

Anton took a deep breath, feeling unwilling to pull the trigger.

"Resistance!"

Anton was shot twice more in the chest.

"Oh!"

The bolt gun followed and fell to the ground.

Anton's body shook, and there was a loud muffled sound.

Unwillingly, he fell to the ground, his eyes wide open, and he was unwilling to die.

"boom!"

There was a glass crack, and the car's siren sounded.

The sound came from another room.

"And accomplices!"

Ron jumped up from the ground, followed the sound and chased towards the intersection not far away.

"Boom!"

The sound of the car's engine started, and a silver pickup truck rushed out of the motel.

Ron rushed out after him, holding guns in even numbers, taking a deep breath and aiming.

"Bang bang!"

Two shots were fired, and tires exploded.

The vehicle shook violently out of control.

"Squeak..."

The brakes are loud and harsh.

White smoke rose repeatedly from the tires rubbing against the ground.

"Oh!"

The pickup truck lost control and crashed into a parked car.

The loud car siren was distracting.

Ron ran after him with guns in both hands.

"FBI, hands up!"

A man with curly hair, shirt and jeans sits in the driver's seat.

The windshield shattered due to the violent impact, scratching his cheek, and blood ran down his cheek, staining his shirt red.

I can't see the face clearly, but it's miserable anyway.

He shook his head to recover quickly from the dizziness.

"Stay still, put your hands up, or I'll shoot you!"

Ron roared, and the man in the car obediently raised his hands.

"Unfasten your seat belt slowly. I don't want you to do anything else. Of course, if you want to do something else, I'm more than happy to kill you."

"Don't shoot, I am willing to cooperate!"

A faint voice sounded, and the man slowly loosened his seat belt.

Ron stared at the man. If the man drew his gun to resist, he would just kill the guy and save the government a sum of judicial expenses.

Ron stepped forward and opened the car door.

"come out!"

The man came out very cooperatively.

"Hold your head in your hands and kneel down!"

The man knelt on the ground, and Ron took out the handcuffs and handcuffed the man.

Sandy drove out of the motel, arriving late.

"What are you doing?"

Ron looked at Sandy in the car speechlessly.

Sandy looked embarrassed.

"I... I thought there was going to be a good car chase, but obviously, it's not going to be needed now. Gotta say, you're a damn good shot."

"Stop talking nonsense, go back and search to see if there are any accomplices in the motel."

"All right!"

Sandy shrugged and drove back to the hotel.

Ron searched the pickup truck.

There is an M40A1 wooden sniper rifle in the car. This type of rifle is usually used for hunting.

Otherwise, there is nothing of value.

in the room.

Ron came over with two open bottles of beer, one of which was passed to the man.

The blood on the man's face naturally dried up, making him look a little scary.

With his right hand handcuffed to the iron bed, the other hand took the beer handed over by Ron, and Ton Ton took a swig.

Ron sat opposite the man and looked at the man carefully.

The man was tall and burly, with a calm expression, without the slightest panic, as if the person he caught was not himself.

"what is it call?"

"Lwellyn Moss."

"Why run?"

"Fear!"

"What about the gun?"

"Self-defense!"

"What's the relationship with the wanted criminal Anton? He seems to be looking for you!"

"It doesn't matter."

"You can't lie to me, there must be a relationship between you."

Lu Welin was silent, just looked at Ron silently.

After a while, he said: "If you must think that we are related, please show evidence."

Ron sneered, "Hey, you got the wrong person, we are not the police. No, we are not ordinary FBI, most of the time we don't need evidence."

Lu Weilin was in a state of uncertainty. For the first time, he was a little uncertain.

"The wanted criminal Anton also had your misunderstanding, so he thought I would hesitate, and he died in the end."

Ron looked at Lu Welin coldly.

Anton thought that Ron, like ordinary policemen, would hesitate and be merciful, but he obviously got the wrong person.

Just then, Sandy walked in.

"Three drug dealers died in the next room. Anton should have killed them. It looked more like a fight between drug dealers. As for him, it was purely a disaster for Chi Yu."

"is it?"

"This should be!"

"Look at him, I'll go take a look."

Sandy got upset, "Hey, man, you doubt my abilities."

"If you must think so, yes!"

"fuck you!"

Sandy was furious, and then gave Luwelling a hard look.

Luwellin blinked innocently.

"Fuck, what the hell are you looking at, you must be hiding something? Tell me!"

"Officer, I really have nothing to say."

Sandy yelled from inside the room.

Ron left the room and learned from the hotel owner that the three groups arrived at the hotel more than an hour apart.

First three drug dealers, then Luwellin, and finally Anton.

He slowly pushed away from the drug dealer's room.

Two drug dealers died in the room, one drug dealer died in the bathroom, and blood flowed all over the floor.

There were also guns left on the ground.

Ron stood in the middle of the room, scanned the room quietly and then backed out.

Then Ron went into Luwellyn's room again.

The things in the room are neatly arranged, and the bed in the bedroom has traces of sleeping.

The glass facing the street shattered, and a cool breeze blew in through the windows.

Ron stood in the middle of the house, his eyes slowly sweeping across.

His gaze finally settled on the wooden chair.

There was a faint shoe print on the chair.

The room was so tidy, and Luwelling didn't seem like a clean-loving person.

So the situation must have been urgent, so the marks on the chair were not wiped dry.

Lu Welin's height is about 1.8 meters, and he needs to stand on a chair at this height.

Ron looked at the ceiling.

In an inconspicuous place, Ron saw traces of movement.

He brought the wooden chair over, stood on it and pushed back the wooden boards from the ceiling.

He saw a vent pipe.

The ventilation pipe leads to the drug dealer's room, and a brown leather case lies quietly in the deepest part of the ventilation pipe.

Ron's eyes narrowed slightly, and the corners of his mouth curled up into a smile.

He hooked the boxes out and carefully restored the planks of the ceiling.

Finally, he wiped the chair clean and put it back in place.

Sitting on the sofa again, he opened the box and saw the box full of brand new beautiful knives. Ron gasped.

"call……"

After a long time, Ron let out a foul breath, his heart beating uncontrollably.

He closed the box, looking hesitant.

(End of this chapter)