111, Tina and her father

Colima, Mexico.

Sanchez, 31, who parked his second-hand Ferrari sports car he bought last month on Abraham Street, just five minutes from the Ocole Bridge, had come to pick up his girlfriend, Corneil, to his favourite hotel, the Montara. The interior of the Hotel Montara is decorated in the style of southwestern Mexico, and the restaurant is basically a double booth, and the air is filled with the smell of wood. Napkins made of white linen and scented candles are memorable.

Today's location is a double seat near the window, through the glass window, you can see the lake surrounded by greenery, and pedestrians take a leisurely stroll along the lake. Billy, the bartender, is a good friend of Sanchez's, and every time Sanchez comes over with his girlfriend, he will bring a good drink and make cocktails to Kernier's liking.

Sanchez hasn't seen his girlfriend for two weeks in a row, during this time Colima is a mess, a large amount of cocaine, marijuana through Colima's underground transportation channel to Baja California, the police department is busy, of course, not every police officer is as hard as Sanchez, after all, Sanchez's mobile police force can sometimes only sleep 2 or 3 hours a day, ready to be on call, ready to appear on the street or at a certain place in the port.

Sanchez was already quite resigned, after all, he had friends at the police station in Wallez, a city known as the City of Beasts, and his friends didn't have much time left for him to work every day, most of the time to save his life, which was fucking ironic.

It was 11:45 a.m. when she received a call from her girlfriend, Knie, who apologized to Sanchez that she had to leave her lunch and afternoon to her father because he suddenly had to have dinner with her and discuss some family matters. But she made sure that dinner and the whole evening would be for Sanchez.

After Sanchez hung up the phone, shrugged his shoulders, started the car, stepped on the accelerator to the end, and the sports car roared away from Abraham Street, he was a little sad, knowing that Cornier would break up with him in the next two days, after all, the gap in family background is a deep chasm between the two - the Cornele family is too rich, and he is just a small policeman. And a not very gregarious, not very promising cop. Here, justice is a very rare thing, and it will make you independent.

He can only frantically and a little angrily toss this two-way Ferrari, which is also his only way to vent, as a policeman, his biggest shortcoming is probably overspeeding, which is also the bottom line of his violation.

Arriving at the speed limit road near the Electronic City of Colima, Sanchez stepped on the brakes to reduce his speed, and the CD on the car stereo was playing the Rolling Stones' song, which had been turned up to the maximum volume, and the CD was playing "VOODOO Lounge" while he was roaring hoarsely.

After this song, Sanchez joined the ranks of the big traffic jam, and then the second song just started, playing an old song "dead flowers" by Rolling Stone, shaking his head to the rhythm of harmonies and electronic music, and humming along with his mouth, but the sudden sound made him think that there was a problem with the sound, and couldn't help but glance at his stereo, but then heard several loud noises, completely overshadowing the rhythm of the music in the amplifier. So he looked in the rearview mirror and saw black smoke rising from the intersection behind him, and less than 100 meters away, a silver-gray Bentley body had been knocked out of a large crater, and a van was parked next to the Bentley, which was burning with fire at the moment.

After more than ten seconds, Sanchez saw a motorcycle, jumping out of the alley only 40 meters away from him, it was two people riding together on a red Suzuki, the person in the back seat was holding an AK47 rifle, first fired at a black sedan behind Bentley, the glass splashed everywhere, and several bodyguards in the broken window all died on the seat, and then fired wildly at the side of the Bentley who was about to turn and escape, but this Bentley was bulletproof, and the bullet hit the glass and the body 'bang'.

Sanchez couldn't believe his eyes - Colima was the dock used by many drug dealers to transfer goods, but there had never been such a frenzied street chase. The motorcycle kept rushing left and right and spurring forward, and it needed to turn before it could turn around and go back to the Bentley, and Sanchez looked in the rearview mirror as if he were watching a shootout movie on TV.

As Suzuki's motorcycle passed by his Ferrari, the man in the back seat was changing the magazine for the AK47 and even glanced at Sanchez in the car, then walked around the front of the car and continued to chase the Bentley.

When Sanchez heard another shot ring out behind him, he finally took action. He pulled on the handbrake, pulled out the car keys, parked his second Ferrari on the side of the road, grabbed the work bag in the back seat, unzipped it, reached out and fumbled for it, his fingers touched the lunch box and sweater, and held the MP-5 he used on duty, and when he grabbed the gun, the sound of gunshots and screams from the back of the gun kept tormenting his ears.

With a submachine gun with a magazine of 30 rounds of the only one, Sanchez rushed into the group of cars, looking for a target. He saw crowds of motorbikes scurrying between parked cars, and men and women driving private cars at a loss for what to do. By this time, everyone on the road already knew that there was an attack on this road, but they could not advance or retreat, unless they drove another 1,000 meters before there were three forks in the road where the vehicles could divert the traffic, and the various vehicles collided with each other in the process of scrambling for their lives, and Sanchez simply rushed into the heart of the chaos with a gun in his hand.

It's his duty, and it's something he's always insisted on in his heart.

He saw another beige Fiat 50 meters behind him slam into the waist-high guardrail on the side of the road out of fear, and because of the high speed, the whole car flipped out after the impact, almost like a slow motion in the air, and climbed over the guardrail and rushed to the paved sidewalk full of motorcycles and bicycles.

At this time, another motorcycle came directly in front of Sanchez, getting closer and closer to him, it was a black Suzuki, and the man sitting behind the motorcyclist was holding a rifle with a huge drum in his hand.

The motorcyclist saw the man in a T-shirt and jeans standing in the crowd and the black submachine gun he was holding, but he didn't have time to alert his companion with the gun behind him. Sanchez took the opportunity to raise his MP-5 and fire, so the motorcyclist let the Suzuki motorcycle fall to the ground, the rider flipped off it, and then fell to the ground with the gunman behind him.

Sanchez fired a few shots at the gunman with the AK47, and his long-term training and combat skills came into play, first a few bullets hit the ground, then the next bullets hit the gunman, he saw the bullets go through the gunman's body, the AK47 also fell to the ground, and then Sanchez pointed the gun at the motorcyclist.

Sanchez's instructor taught him with a bloody lesson - to measure the good or bad of a killer, you don't need to see if the other person is defenseless, it's very simple, just kill him, because as long as that guy is alive, you will be in danger.

So he didn't hesitate to shoot the motorcyclist five times in a row, the bullet pierced the other's helmet and into the other's groin, and blood seeped from under the two killers on the road.

While changing the magazine, Sanchez was looking for another motorcycle in the group, the silver-gray Bentley crashed wildly towards the middle of the road, crashed into several other cars, and drove to the opposite road, the red Suzuki also rushed left and right in the traffic, the gunman behind was holding an AK47 in his hand, still shooting at the Bentley, the bumpy motorcycle affected the gunman's vision, and several bullets were fired into a gray Peugeot car, Peugeot jumped forward and collided with the car in front of it, Then the screams of the women in the carriage and the cries of the children.

Taking a deep breath, Sanchez put aside the stress and nervousness of the first unexpected encounter, picked up the MP-5 in his hand, and aimed at the motorcyclist, but there were other sights in the scope, the Suzuki was interspersed in the traffic, he moved the muzzle of the gun downward, raised the gun again to aim, and his fingers were forceful, ready to pull the trigger.

But he suddenly noticed that at that moment, the motorcycle disappeared into the scope. Without hesitation, Sanchez threw himself on the hot road, and several 7.62mm bullets hit the spot where he had just stood, burrowing into another car.

Sanchez calmly crawled a few meters ahead, stood up and trotted forward a few steps, hiding behind a minibus that had run out, searching for the killer's traces, in the noisy sound, he couldn't judge where the motorcycle was driving at the moment, he could only hide for a few seconds and then just wanted to rush out with a gun, but was pressed back by the AK47's fire.

The shrill shouts of sirens came from behind, followed by a dozen heavily armed mobile police officers rushing through the traffic. Sanchez shot in the direction of AK47 and cooperated with the police on the opposite side of the minibus to surround the killer.

The two killers on the Suzuki motorcycle got out of the car, hid in the traffic, took off their helmets, took out a piece of clothing from the package and changed it, and then ran out of the driveway in the crowd screaming and fleeing.

After Sanchez joined his teammates, the door of the cratered Bentley opened from the inside, and a tall, stocky middle-aged Mexican got out of the car, nodding calmly at the police.

"Thank you!"

The corners of Sanchez's eyes twitched, to be honest, he regretted it a little now, if he knew that it was this bastard in front of him, he would definitely not be so impulsive.

The man's name was Garner, and he was a businessman, but most of his business was not very bright.

Behind Ghana, a young girl in a T-shirt and jeans also got out of the car, her tan hair shaggy and her delicate features full of fear. After getting out of the car, she quickly wrapped her arms around Garner with both hands, and looked at the police officers around her with apprehension.

"It's okay, Tina, it's okay!" Garner patted the girl's arm comfortingly, her eyes full of love.

Tina looked up left and right, her gaze lingering on the right front, a hint of surprise on her face, but then she regained her composure.

She saw Sanchez.

Sanchez saw her too.

Both looked surprised, but then Sanchez's eyes turned to joy - old classmates had not seen each other for a long time. But Sanchez didn't know that the father of his classmate turned out to be Ghana.

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