Well, that signal sent the message loud and clear. Jack lost no time taking advantage of it. Telling the other officers to take cover, he got back in the SUV, sped down the street a ways, then turned around and roared towards the burning roadblock.
On the other side, the shooters would see a police SUV suddenly burst out of the inferno, knocking the other police cars aside, trailing smoke and flame as it charged towards them. They immediately opened fire on it, bullets leaving cracks in its windshield and dents on the hood.
Behind the car, Jack slowly emerged from the smoke, police sniper rifle in hand. He'd bailed out of the car just after it smashed through the roadblock, rolling on hot pavement and coughing as the smell of burning rubber invaded his nostrils. It had been worth it though. The hostiles had exposed their position by opening fire, and with their attention on the still-rolling SUV, they hadn't seen Jack.
Running to the side of the street, he set up the rifle on top of a parked car and then zoomed in on the puffs of white gunsmoke drifting from a fourth-floor window. He saw them- two grizzled men in hunter's camo, using civilian rifles. Sporting buddies, probably, who'd grabbed their guns when the Crabhammers gave them the opportunity to hunt Import prey. Jack put the crosshairs on left-hand man and squeezed the trigger.
The target dropped out of the window. Jack operated the bolt on his rifle, levered a new bullet into the chamber, then put his eye to the scope again. The other shooter was looking down in shock at what was next to his feet. But he hadn't dropped his weapon either. Jack saw him look back towards the street and start to raise the weapon to his shoulder. He never finished.
Jack took a moment to sweep the rest of the street, checking for more shooters, before he stood up, satisfied. Down the street, the SUV finally rolled to a stop.
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On the other side, the shooters would see a police SUV suddenly burst out of the inferno, knocking the other police cars aside, trailing smoke and flame as it charged towards them. They immediately opened fire on it, bullets leaving cracks in its windshield and dents on the hood.
Behind the car, Jack slowly emerged from the smoke, police sniper rifle in hand. He'd bailed out of the car just after it smashed through the roadblock, rolling on hot pavement and coughing as the smell of burning rubber invaded his nostrils. It had been worth it though. The hostiles had exposed their position by opening fire, and with their attention on the still-rolling SUV, they hadn't seen Jack.
Running to the side of the street, he set up the rifle on top of a parked car and then zoomed in on the puffs of white gunsmoke drifting from a fourth-floor window. He saw them- two grizzled men in hunter's camo, using civilian rifles. Sporting buddies, probably, who'd grabbed their guns when the Crabhammers gave them the opportunity to hunt Import prey. Jack put the crosshairs on left-hand man and squeezed the trigger.
The target dropped out of the window. Jack operated the bolt on his rifle, levered a new bullet into the chamber, then put his eye to the scope again. The other shooter was looking down in shock at what was next to his feet. But he hadn't dropped his weapon either. Jack saw him look back towards the street and start to raise the weapon to his shoulder. He never finished.
Jack took a moment to sweep the rest of the street, checking for more shooters, before he stood up, satisfied. Down the street, the SUV finally rolled to a stop.