The world of American TV series: Starting with the L.A. Patrol.

Chapter 308 The revengeful father

When Pete was stunned again and stuffed into the trunk of the Raptor, he never expected that less than three hours had passed since he was kidnapped.

Jack didn't have time to spend a few days with him. The so-called "water-drip torture" he tried only lasted for less than an hour and a half, and the guy was on the verge of collapse.

The dark and quiet environment, coupled with Jack's hints in expressions and words, is just a rough psychological inducement, making Pete think that he has been tortured for a whole day.

However, in fact, it was almost past midnight now, and this cold night had just begun, as the wheels ran over the ruts that had just been frozen not long ago, and the mixture of ice slag and muddy water was thrown high.

After receiving the news of Chris' "birds returning home", a convoy twice as long as the previous few days appeared again on the simple road leading to the drilling camp.

Cory Lambert was still the first car on the road. When he stopped the car and left the cab, the off-road vehicles and SUVs of different models also pulled over and turned off their engines and turned off their lights.

Jack used his flashlight to beckon everyone to come closer to him, but was startled when he saw his and Martin Hansen's faces.

"What did you put on your face?"

"This is the face of death drawn by the shaman before the tribal warriors fought."

Finally, there is Justine, who sits in the tribal police station. Through the wireless network invaded by the bridge signal, she remotely controls all the electronic equipment in the camp, cutting off the last possibility for the security guards to ask for help from outside.

"Damn it!" Jack and Braxton hurriedly followed.

After assigning their respective tasks, Jane and Aaliyah stayed behind while the others drove snowmobiles and sped towards their respective areas of responsibility.

"Counting the bodies, there are 4 people behind the house." Jack said on the intercom.

"White represents sorrow and mourning, red represents war and energy, black represents bravery and aggression, and yellow represents the determination to fight to the death."

"I want to learn to be like them, to pray to my ancestors, to gain the courage and strength to give my enemies blood for blood."

The Indians in the Wind River Valley Reservation basically belong to the Eastern Shoshone Tribe and the Northern Arapaho Tribe, but no matter which one of them they are, their civilization inheritance has long been cut off by white people.

"Uh, you will." The atmosphere was a bit tragic, making Jack unable to spit out his stomach, so he simply shut up.

The security dormitory was now brightly lit and filled with smoke. I don't know if it was because of the high alertness for several days that these guys were so depressed that they were all shouting and making a fuss.

Most of them can't even speak their own language, how can anyone know shaman painting?

"I found the meaning of the colors through Google, and I made up the patterns myself. No one understands these things anymore." Martin Hansen's words made everyone fall into silence.

Along with the exclamation and screams in the room, the AR-15 in Braxton's hand sounded at the same time, smashing the window glass on the other side of the prefabricated house.

The north is the only direction of attack, and Chris and Mr. Hunter, one with a Barrett MRAD and one with his own lever shotgun, are responsible for long-range sniping.

There is no obstruction in the open snow. Whether it is an infrared night vision device or a low-light night vision device, two snipers can easily kill their prey.

There was no suspense in the battle. In less than ten minutes, all the security guards who fled outside fell into the snow.

It was like a rat hole filled with cigarettes. Within a few minutes, several doors were kicked open one after another, and several figures rushed out with guns in hand and yelling.

"Do it!" With his low growl, two completely different gunshots sounded at the same time.

Barrett MRAD guns are dull and powerful, and Marlin 1895 lever-action rifle guns are crisp and sweet. The two bullets, . Thin insulation.

"Corey said I shouldn't run away from pain, and I thought he was right, so I decided to study the Sirians from the east, and I've heard they have the same skin color as us and may even have the same ancestors."

"Do you still know this?" Jack was a little surprised. The shaman tradition of the Indians should have been cut off long ago.

It was 3 o'clock in the morning, and the night was getting dark. The three of Jack quietly walked around behind the prefabricated room used as a security dormitory, and sent a signal to Chris and the others to be in place.

Amid the cracking sound of glass, Jack waved his arm quickly, and four tear gas shots were accurately thrown into it.

Braxton, who cared about his father-in-law, rushed into the prefabricated house immediately. After passing through two rooms, he suddenly froze on the spot. Then when Jack came in, he also said that he was quite frightened.

There were a few guys who hadn’t hit the jackpot yet, and their minds were still clear. When they found a sniper ambushing in front of them, they secretly opened the back door and tried to escape from the back of the house. They were easily shot and killed by the three Jacks who were waiting.

There is wall-penetrating radar, but this kind of technology requires the device to be close to the wall to roughly see the outline of a person, and it cannot allow snipers to shoot down the people in the room one by one from hundreds of meters away.

In the real world, infrared imaging cannot penetrate walls, so it is impossible to see individual infrared figures through the walls of a room like in movies.

Fortunately, Jack is very experienced. After experiencing the prison crisis, he has mastered the technique of smoking out the rat's hole.

Some gathered to play cards and gamble, and some smoked American herbal medicine, unaware that the scythe of death was already resting on their necks.

Jack took Braxton and Martin Hansen and was responsible for the frontal attack.

"Five people in front of the house." Before Chris could finish speaking in the distance, Martin Hansen beside Braxton couldn't wait to jump out.

There were at least two other people in the house. Chris and Colin had previously observed through the window and shot through the wall. Although the calibers of their two guns were both capable of hitting dinosaurs, what if it was just a scratch.

Tribal policemen work in teams of two and are responsible for surrounding the camp from three directions: southeast, west and west. Their mission is to intercept enemies who may escape and provide timely reinforcements in the event of an accident.

Corey said, pointing to the pile of colorful paint on his face.

In a messy room, a corpse had a large hole in its chest and was lying in a pool of blood. The one lying on one side was none other than an acquaintance, Sergey Meyers.

This guy's leg was supposed to be just scratched by shrapnel, and he was leaning against the hole in the wall to survive, but he was startled when Martin Hansen suddenly rushed in with his face painted colorfully.

Just when he reacted and was about to raise his pistol to fight back, his arm was stepped on by the angry father.

Martin Hansen directly threw away the rifle in his hand, pulled out an Indian hand ax from the back of his waist, chopped off Sergey Meyers' right hand with one axe, then stepped on his chest, and swung the axe violently Down.

Let's get some monthly tickets, it's almost the end of the month.