162, the Mexican policeman who is angry

In the anti-terrorist riot vehicle, Sanchez drank coffee in silence, one hand pressed on the handle of the gun at his waist. His boss, Bamende, sat in the driver's seat, unable to wipe the beads of sweat off his bald head. On his lap is a heavy police notebook, which is cut into nine frames, and the monitoring area is a square kilometer of the HSBC building. He kept switching images with his fingers, cursing in a low voice the warm days and cold nights.

The intercom resting on the bridge came with a request to call, and Bamende reached out to pick up the intercom and yelled viciously, "Tell me something." ”

"Security alerts that the Assassin who intended to assassinate Vaux has been spotted and is on the run. Currently within range, security requirements, shooting target limbs. Repeat: Security requirements, shoot at the target's limbs. ”

"Which area?" Bamende's voice became steady, and his body straightened.

"Area 7, currently passing through Area 7, will soon enter Area 8."

Babend's fingers tapped quickly on the keyboard, bringing up the camera zoom in on area 8, and Sanchez, who was close to him, suddenly breathed heavily and almost choked on the coffee in his mouth. But Barmen didn't notice the change in his subordinates' expressions, just looked at the "target" that was running on the screen, and just as he wanted to speak, the intercom in his hand was covered by Sanchez.

As a SWAT officer, Sanchez has long developed an instinct to distinguish other people's physical characteristics. Although Mo Lei didn't contact him again, he had seen Mo Lei's running posture, which looked very twisted, with his left hand hanging down on his side and moving in a small area, and his left shoulder slightly lower forward. If Bamende issues an order now, then I'm afraid that Mo Lei will suffer next, and he will definitely not allow this kind of thing to happen, because Mo Lei is his friend.

Although until now, every time he thinks of Mo Lei and Tina, Sanchez's heart is sour to death.

"What?"

"Please, we're police, why do we have to listen to a bodyguard's orders? Can police guns be fired at will? Sanchez winked at the boss, his face full of unruliness. But he was beating the drum in his heart, and although the reason was very "Mexican police", he didn't know if the jealous and hateful Barmende ate ate this set.

"That's right." Barmen nodded approvingly.

Sanchez added indignantly.

"Besides, what do you mean by intent to assassinate? Did they catch someone else? Interrogated? Attempted assassination is just a thought, what is the reason for our police to shoot? There are a lot of reporters on the scene, damn it, I can't get used to this kind of self-righteous bodyguard, do you really think that our SWAT is here to protect this garbage? ”

Bamende raised his hand and touched his shiny head, smearing his sweat on Sanchez's coat. This guy has long known that he is a cynical policeman, and he can fight and kill, which is really good, and it is very much in line with his appetite.

Picking up the intercom and leaning it to his lips, Bamen gave the order to the sniper, "Don't shoot, be careful to cause chaos." Repeat: No shots. ”

"Let's see if it's not a bodyguard-like person with a weapon, shoot it." Sanchez put one hand on Babend's shoulder, he probably figured out the boss's character now, so he thought about simply helping to the end, people dressed as bodyguards can't be killed, but there are three guys in the camera who are not dressed as bodyguards, but at a glance, they know that they are the ones who are chasing and killing Mo Lei.

Bamende repeated this passage again, for him, there are only two kinds of people: good people and bad people, Sanchez is his own person, he is a good person, then what Sanchez said is credible.

The sniper rifle on the roof of the opposite building flares up, and one of the guys who rushed to the entrance to the park collapsed in a pool of blood.

After rushing into the park, Mo Lei slowed down, after all, the one who rushed in the leisurely crowd was the most obvious target. But when he heard someone's frightened shout, he looked back in surprise, and he probably understood what was going on.

There are also snipers, but the targets of snipers are people with weapons.

This opportunity could not be wasted, so he simply rushed past the crowd who were rehearsing the traditional dance of "Rahabe".

The crowd at the entrance of the park suddenly became chaotic. A police officer rushed out of the back door of the HSBC building.

The pursuers behind them began to run, and some were shouting in Spanish to the effect of "get out of the way", but there were probably also rough idlers in the park, shouting and swearing, and some women cursing and screaming. But they all saw the weapon in the strong man's hand, and suddenly dispersed again. The policeman at the entrance also rushed in, pointing the weapons in their hands at the two remaining strong men.

Four bodyguards in black suits followed, showing their ID to the police and answering the phone of the police chief who was patrolling the scene. The policemen were ordered by the captain to participate in the search team, but one of the bodyguards who looked like the leader refused and just told them to go to the door and stand guard.

Walking through the flower beds on the edge of the park from the path, Mo Lei tore off his beard while people were not looking. The coat was taken off quickly, but it took a moment for him to pull a piece of clothing out of his rucksack and change it on. He saw the exit about 300 meters in front of him, and there were several idlers looking around, their behavior was out of place with other tourists, and one of them was talking to the headset with his head down.

Fuck, someone was shot and everyone didn't run around? It's not weird. The more chaotic, the better. But you can't create chaos yourself, and the center of chaos is the live target.

Shorten the strap of the rucksack on your back and carry it in one hand, and quickly put the gray jacket on with your right hand. Mo Lei saw several white people on the left side carrying backpacks and trying to find a place to rest, the cement benches under the shade of the trees were full of people, and some people were sitting on the ground, holding corn tortillas for lunch. He quickly turned left towards the curvy cobblestone path, and as he passed through the shade of the trees, he tucked his rucksack between a tree and the trash can, and then took off his hat and tucked it around his waist—it was an important prop that could not be thrown away just yet.

There are still about 1,000 meters to go from where you are to the next exit, and you need to cross a 12-meter arch bridge, which is unobstructed, and the goal of walking alone is particularly obvious. But if you go around it from the right, you need to walk an additional 400 meters. Mo Lei simply gave up the plan for the second exit, and instead walked straight ahead along the path, although the third exit was far away, there were many places to hide and disguise along the way. Of course, he can choose the low fence in the middle of the second to third exits, depending on the risks on the way.

The blue-painted newsstand is on the shore of the lake in the middle of the park, and in front of it is a row of long, wind-dappled wooden benches with people sitting on it, and a homeless man occupies a chair alone, lying on a bench with a newspaper on his face and enjoying the scorching midday sun. An elderly man, sweating profusely, sits on another chair munching on bread, and on the other side of the chair is a strong man in a short-sleeved T-shirt with a meaty face with his eyes closed.

Mo Lei saw the handle of the knife exposed in the trouser pocket of the strong man, so he strode over, first bought a very good paper "National Geographic" magazine at the newspaper stand, and then walked to the bench and sat down with the strong man. The strong man glared at Mo Lei menacingly, he quickly stood up and left a little timidly, but there was an extra dagger in the rolled up magazine.

It's already noon, and there are more and more people in the park, although Mo Lei is strange and why there are still people coming to the park in such a hot time, but the crowd is his best opportunity.

Two men in gray casual clothes approached and looked left and right. Mo Lei saw the earphone cable in their collars and saw a slightly bulging piece on his waist. The strong man walking in front also looked down at his palms from time to time.

They have their own pictures in their hands.

Mo Lei quickly turned left, took out a pack of tissues from his trouser pocket with his backhand, took out one, folded it into a small strip and stuffed it into his palate, sandwiched the rolled-up magazine under his armpit, rubbed his face with both hands, and adjusted the position of the note imperceptibly, he has now become a bucktoothed man, but his nose and eyes cannot be changed for the time being.

In front are two rows of tall palm trees, lined with lawns planted with colorful flowers. On the road, several men who were supposed to get off work at noon hurriedly approached, and one of them collided with Mo Lei. The man hurriedly apologized to Mo Lei and left with his friends. Mo Lei walked a few steps, turned right and walked up a trail, and at the end of the small slope, sat with the tourists, took out his mobile phone and dialed Sanchez's number.

The phone was quickly connected, and Sanchez's voice was angry, but as soon as he heard Mo Lei's name, he hurriedly asked him to wait, and 4 seconds later, Sanchez's voice rang eagerly again.

"Where are you? Is it safe?"

"I'm in the park, on the west side, do me a favor, make some trouble, and I'll leave." Mo Lei lowered his voice, and his eyes kept looking around.

"Okay, give me 30 seconds."

Mo Lei hung up the phone, stood up and walked a few steps along the small slope to the left, turned left and went downhill and then turned right, dismantled the phone and threw it into the trash. He counted to 33 seconds when another exclamation was heard from the direction of his entry, and the crisp sound of a sniper rifle rang out one after another, followed by shouting in the other two positions.

Chaos finally erupted in the park.

Mo Lei straightened his clothes, clutched the magazine tightly in his hand, and strode towards the west exit, and beside him, countless people rushed in the same direction with panic on their faces.

The exit is in sight.

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