Luke listened to the song quietly.
Unexpectedly, the old man sang quite well.
He sang it with a smile, but only he could experience how much blood and tears he had shed.
It was a pity for this old man to be a killer! He should be a talk show actor or a singer! That was Luke's opinion.
The car drove west in the dark to the ferry port by the sea.
The country road was quiet at night. Kincaid, who was tired from singing, had fallen asleep.
No matter how tough the old man was, he couldn't withstand the exhaustion brought on by blood loss.
Sitting quietly in the backseat, Luke's expression suddenly changed. He shifted slightly and looked at the back of the car in the rearview mirror.
"We have company," he said.
Michael looked in the rearview mirror. "How did you know?"
Luke said, "Don't suddenly speed up. Slow down a little. This isn't a car chase movie."
Michael asked, "Are you sure?"
Luke drew his gun from under his arm. "It's just an SUV. There are five people at most. There are no police officers here."
Michael only hesitated for a moment, but he still did as he was told.
He hadn't seen much of Luke in action, but Luke was as clean and efficient as he was.
It was naturally best to take care of his worries and move on.
Michael kept an eye on the car behind them, but still asked in a low voice, "Not Kincaid?"
He could take care of the opponent without Kincaid, but he was afraid that the black baldie, who was sleeping soundly, would be killed in the crossfire.
Luke said, "It's fine. Won't you be happy if he's dead? Otherwise, he'll always teach you the 36 Stratagems of Love. "
Michael: "…"
He felt that it was better to endure a certain black baldie's prickly words than to get his 3A rating back.
Luke quietly rolled down the window and lowered his body a little as he observed the car behind them in the rearview mirror.
Thanks to his warning, Michael's slow reduction in speed didn't alert the other party.
The criminals weren't stupid. They were only moving a little faster than Michael's car, and acted like a normal car at night.
Luke, however, could only smile and say nothing.
He had seen this car before when they evacuated the safe house. The person in it was clearly a mercenary, and it happened to have chosen the same route in the middle of the night.
Luke reminded her in a low voice, "You do the countdown. Brake hard when the countdown is over."
Michael instantly understood and began to count. "Fifteen, fourteen …"
Luke was lost for words. Can't you count down from five? Even ten would be good.
Of course, he knew that Michael's countdown was actually the time it took for the two cars to reach each other.
"Eight, seven …"
Luke had already confirmed that the car's license plate was the one outside the safe house.
"Three, two …"
Luke propped his foot against the back of the driver's seat and rose a little.
"One!"
Creak!
There was a sudden braking sound, and the speed of the Mercedes-Benz dropped sharply, but it still remained stable. It didn't slip, and it didn't overturn.
Michael wasn't a bad driver, either. He knew that he had to create the best conditions for Luke to shoot. Although he braked quickly, it wasn't abrupt.
Luke got up out of inertia. He barely needed to move the Glock to pull the trigger at the black SUV that was passing by.
In the passenger seat and the back seat of the SUV on the right, the three men with guns didn't have time to react before a series of bullets hit them from front to back. Each of them had been shot twice in the head and in the upper body.
Luke, however, was surprised. "There's something wrong with that driver."
He hadn't let go of the driver just now, but the driver's body had instantly slid down, and the shot had missed.
Michael stopped the car steadily. "How did they track us? I deliberately chose to go west because I didn't want to be blocked by them in the tunnel on the east side. "
Kincaid said lazily in a non-tribal accent, "Surveillance cameras. There were surveillance cameras when you stole the car."
Michael, however, shook his head. "That's impossible. I drove east for a while, then circled back to the west."
Luke said, "Guys, it's time to witness a miracle. Can you show some respect to this driver?"
The two chatterboxes in front also noticed that the driver of the black SUV got out of the car not far from the roadside and was staggering over.
Kincaid said, "I don't have a gun. Go ahead."
Michael said, "I'm a security guard, not a killer."
Luke snorted. "This driver isn't human either!"
As he spoke, he opened fire with the Glock in his hand.
The driver, who was staggering over, suddenly sped up, and it was almost impossible to see his movements in the dark.
"WTH?!" the two chatterboxes exclaimed in unison.
The driver was so fast that he left afterimages behind. He definitely wasn't moving at a speed that a normal person could possess.
Luke, however, unhurriedly reloaded the Glock.
The driver, who had been flashing left and right, suddenly stopped. As he touched his body with both hands, he jumped up and down and screamed, "Ahhhh! Why do you hit me every time? "
The two chatterboxes also noticed that there were seven or eight bullet holes in the guy's upper body, and he kept bleeding.
The strange thing was that with so many bullets in his chest and abdomen, the driver was still full of energy and screaming in pain as he jumped up and down.
Thinking of what Luke had said, Michael raised his gun.
Pa! Pa! Pa!
Pa! He emptied the magazine, but wasn't in a hurry to look at his results. Instead, he turned his head and looked to the side. "WTF?!"
Kincaid was leaning against the side of his head with a gun in his hand.
But Michael was blocking his line of sight.
Kincaid slapped him in the face. "Don't block me! You didn't even hit him with your lousy marksmanship! "
Pa! Pa! Pa!
Kincaid's magazine was also quickly emptied.
Michael sat up and began to mock him. "Wow, it seems your marksmanship is pretty lousy as well."
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 him in the arm. Is there a problem with your marksmanship being lousy? "
Luke was lost for words. Ignoring them, he pushed the door open and got out.
At that moment, the unlucky driver, who had more than ten bullet holes in his body, had an incredulous look on his face. "Impossible. How can you hit me?"
Luke didn't answer, but he was secretly amused.
Even if he didn't count himself in, Kincaid and Michael were decent fighters among ordinary humans, and they were far better at using guns than ordinary people.
This driver was underestimating them too much by relying on his speed to dodge all the bullets.
He wasn't fast enough to dodge bullets, and he lacked gunfighting skills. It was only normal for him to be shot.
Luke swung his right hand and flicked away an extendable baton. He then walked toward the driver, who was riddled with bullet holes.
The driver bared his teeth and howled as he pounced on Luke.
The chatterboxes also got out of the car, and Michael quickly said, "Wow, why don't we sit down and talk first?"
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