That's right, Anne's right shoulder felt cold. Pen %Fun %Pavilion www.biquge.info This damn chill burrowed into her body like a cube of ice and woke her up.

Quinn and Lisa snored as they could.

Anne gradually saw the gloom around her. The twilight was faint, and the cabin was hazy. The bed was a mess. The room smelled of alcohol and cigarettes. On the bed lay a naked striped body. Anne woke up.

Only then did she notice that her right shoulder rested on the windowpane. There was a layer of mist on the cold glass. It will be a long time before spring arrives in the city of archangels, and the few sunny days that have been there can't hide this fact, in fact, spring has just passed, and of course it can't be returned immediately.

When they were crazy in bed, they piled pillows high next to the bulkheads. Anne's body must have moved up a little after falling asleep, probably at some point when she couldn't stand the so much physical contact anymore and just wanted to sleep.

She forcefully removed her shoulder from the window, moved her watch to the light, and looked hard.

7:05 a.m.

OMG!

At 4 o'clock they were still in a big swing, tossing and turning on the mats, sofas and carpets. That is, she slept for less than three hours.

Anne was stunned. Sleep is among the most important things in her life.

She slid down, dodged the cold window, pulled up another crumpled sheet, and shrugged herself in.

She turned to the side, and now she was able to look out the window warmly and comfortably. Lisa and Quinn's snoring is even and hypnotic.

Anne squinted slightly, admiring the view of the water. It's a wonderful feeling to lie down comfortably and know that the cool tide is close at hand.

She felt drowsy. The headache has also been reduced. Gentle dreams rise.

A white boat swung lightly on the gray-black waves, very slowly, almost stationary. The railings were shining, and the people on the boat stood there silently and motionless, holding fishing poles.

Fishing rods?

Anne had this experience in her dreams, and what she thought was something specific had become unrecognizable in the blink of an eye. So she couldn't say what it was, she couldn't think of that concept, and sometimes she would meaninglessly figure out how to name it in her dreams.

God, no, those are not fishing rods. Although newspapers and television reports say that the area is now clear again, and that many fish that were thought to be dead have swam back, it is still rare to see people fishing.

Black Fishing Rod?

A fishing rod that looks like a black stick?

She was startled and opened her eyes.

Now she knew.

Gun!

That stick is a gun, it's a submachine gun.

The white boat is certainly not a dream scene, but a real existence.

Anne's heartbeat intensified. She spun over and sped towards Quinn, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him.

His snoring stopped, but that was it, and he still didn't wake up.

"Quinn!" Anne shook the sturdy Quinn and shouted, "Oh my God, Quinn, wake up!" ”

He slept like a dead man. The only difference between him and the dead is that he breathes

Lisa woke up, opened her eyes in a panic, yawned and asked:

"What? What's wrong? ”

"Look out the window." Anne replied briefly, still shaking Quinn. That's when she realized that her chance had come. If she could wake up Quinn in time to call him the police, he would be grateful to her for saving his life. In this way, her dream of being the woman of his love can come true, faster than she imagined.

But the situation outside looked like a surprise attack. The opponents must have figured out what had happened on board last night. Now these mongrels want to take out the four leaders of the gang at once.

It seems so, and it's quite obvious. Anne has been a and son of the gang for so long, enough to see these things.

Lisa blinked and looked out the window. She soon woke up with complete fright, screamed, and turned to help her rival Anne wake up from her sleep.

He muttered a few words, pushed the two women away, stretched his limbs and continued to sleep. But they soon returned to him and grabbed him. His stubbornness annoyed him.

"Don't bother me!" He yelled at them, "I want to ......."

"Someone sneaked up!" Anne shouted at him, "They're surrounded! ”

"Don't talk nonsense!" Quinn muttered, trying to turn over and fall asleep again.

"It's someone sneaking up!" Theresa confirmed, terrified.

Together, they pulled him around, forcing him to look at them again.

He knew that the horror on their faces was not faked.

He frowned, narrowed his eyes, and hurried to the window.

The two women saw his back muscles tense, but only for a moment.

Quinn turned around, his eyes burning with the recovering energy and huge desire to survive, which made the two women think of his **. But the stakes are at stake.

"They have to get out!" He whispered, "Get out of here!" ”

"But......," Lisa retorted.

"My clothes!" He shouted.

He rushed to the closet, and when he got on the boat, he put his gun in the closet.

Anne jumped to her feet and grabbed Quinn's pants.

"Hurry up." She neatly threw his pants at him. She could see in his eyes that he appreciated her decision.

Her passion soared. She pulled a hesitant Lisa from the bed and walked away as an example, putting on her black tights as she went. In the blink of an eye, she was ready to go, faster than Quinn.

She helped him unstrap the sheath of Beretta's pistol and fastened the strap buckle behind his back.

At this time, Lisa was covered in chaff, and she couldn't take off her pajamas. She tried to pull her pajamas off her head, but her arms got tangled again.

Quinn watched the scene with contempt. He commanded Anne: "Quick, go quickly!" Then he pushed her towards the door.

He complained to Lisa, "You stay here." You're a snail, and so are you in bed. ”

Nothing made Anne happier than this moment.

She grabbed the doorknob and quietly opened it, peering into the hallway.

Lisa was sobbing.

"I can't see anyone." Anne said.

"Let's both go out!" Quinn followed her closely with a submachine gun.

They left poor Lisa in the cabin. Anne was so happy that she wanted to cheer.

The stakes, especially her courageous actions, opened Quinn's eyes. Now he knew who he belonged to.

Anne ran barefoot, feeling as if the carpet in the hallway of the cabin had turned into a cloud as soft as cotton.

……

"Someone ran away." Police Second Lieutenant Jill said over the intercom, "There's a woman with her, and she's on the back deck, untying the dinghy." That man was Quinn! Armed at all points. ”

"We can't see him from here." I replied, "Do whatever he wants, Jill." Will he escape you? ”

"There is no escape. His dinghy was only big enough for a ride. ”

"Well, then don't shout with your horn and don't fire warning shots. Please wait until it's all over before you arrest him. ”

Ensign James and Lieutenant Jill met each other only when we were talking over the intercom on our way to the marina. Gilson was the head of operations for the Dock Police Department, at the time of the LAPD headquarters.

Explained the location to him.

James and Sarah crouched behind a concrete bucket two meters wide, one meter high and one meter thick. The bucket was filled with dirt, and small bare trees grew in the soil. When spring comes, this humble thing will grow into a beautiful ornamental plant.

For now, this concrete bucket filled with mud is used as a temporary bomb avoider. There is no better bomb avoider than this.

Located on the land side of the U-shaped inner pier, with evergreen bushes behind it, it stretches up to the slope of the river and climbs out, the bank in front of it is paved with asphalt and there are seats and tables.

The boat was about 20 meters away from the police.

There was no movement, not a single sound could be heard, and the shutters of most of the windows were closed. There was also no movement on the surrounding yachts.

Like the yacht, the boat was moored diagonally on the riverbank, so that the windows on the aft deck were facing the inner dock, facing the river.

On the right, the cooperating policeman hid behind the bushes at the end of the embankment and faced the pier full of white resort boats, which separated the inner pier from the other.

On the left, instead of a pier, there is an artificially piled embankment covered with plants. Somebody sneaks closer to the boat, and James and Sarah don't even see them. It is estimated that they are crouching at the end of the dam at the moment, somewhere behind a dense cluster of broadleaf trees.

surrounded the ship.

I thought it was tightly surrounded.

But at least Quinnto had a tentacle we didn't expect.

Business as usual, decisions were made, and things went according to plan.

Lookout watch.

7:12 a.m.

"All right," said Sarah, "let's go in." ”

"Don't you knock?" James asked.

Nodding his head, because this is not a joke. "Knocking on the door" when entering a house, a dwelling or any other closed area to execute an arrest warrant is an ironclad rule in our country for the particularly dangerous area of police work.

The principle of "knocking on the door" is being discussed, and presumably there will never be a result. There is also no final say in the legal process regarding this content. Most colleagues think that if you have a warrant and a search warrant in your bag, you don't have to knock on the door or make a sound.

Quinn seemed to be running for his own life and didn't think of his accomplices. It can't be just because the dinghy can only fit two people.

The police have learned from intelligence agents that the local gang is at odds with each other and has a bad relationship.

After issuing the order to action with the walkie-talkie, she put the walkie-talkie away, and then with her submachine gun, Sarah nodded at James and rushed out of the cover.

Colleagues know how to do it. There were two situations that required them to be quickly reinforced: one was a change in the situation, and the other was that I or Phil called the police from the ship.

Striding close to the gangway, bowing down.

The foredeck is about 30 square meters. No one has had time to clean up since last night.

Empty beer cans and empty champagne bottles, cigarette cases and cigarette butts littered the deck.

It was still too cold for a dance party outside. However, the atmosphere of the Torini birthday party must have been very lively, and some of the guests enjoyed the cool outside.

Tiptoe to the back deck, one step at a time, carefully guarding against stepping on the beer fill or kicking over the bottle.

The main gate is at the front, and like the dwelling, there are two doors. The bow of the ship is low, three stories high, and it is moored by the river, saying that it does not look like a ship but more like a building.

Sneaking into the narrow passage between the outer bulkhead and the cabin, he turned slightly sideways.