Police in Los Angeles

"Bang!" The second green-tipped round hit the side of the pickup truck, which had been exposed by its maneuver, and struck the fuel tank directly, causing an explosion. The three militants in the truck bed were instantly engulfed in flames, screaming as they ran a few steps before collapsing by the roadside, motionless.

"Fall back 500 meters," Jack shouted, banging on the roof to alert Gaspare. The truck drove a short distance before coming to a steady stop. While small-caliber bullets were inaccurate at this distance, the battlefield was littered with stray bullets, which could be deadly. Jack wanted to keep their distance, not eager to test the limits of his healing abilities.

The Barrett's accuracy was reasonable; previously, with the crowd clustered together, Jack could easily predict the bullet drop and hit targets. But now, with the crowd dispersed, aiming for individual targets became inefficient, even with skilled marksmanship.

Jack switched to armor-piercing incendiary rounds, targeting vehicles carrying heavy machine guns or personnel. The former posed the greatest threat, as the "Abu Sayyaf" group's heavy weaponry mainly consisted of heavy machine guns and RPGs. Destroying these would lighten their defensive burden later.

"Bang!" Another vehicle exploded, flames soaring as ammunition boxes on board ignited, creating a cacophony of popping sounds. The militants, not being mere NPCs in a game, soon realized they couldn't just guard the single road leading north. Vehicles began flanking from both sides, attempting to outmaneuver Jack and Gaspare.

Calculating the timing in his mind, Jack destroyed two more vehicles, then hurriedly packed up his gear. He threw a bag filled with the remaining magazines into the truck through a window from which he had removed the glass. With an agile leap, he joined Gaspare inside the truck.

"Let's go, lead them onto the main road," Jack instructed, glancing at his military tablet. The drone had marked enemy vehicles with red triangles, which now formed a long convoy. If only they had an attack helicopter, they could easily eliminate the group with just the machine guns. But this was wishful thinking. Setting the tablet aside, Jack mounted the Barrett on the rear window. Despite the jostling, they had enough ammunition to spare.

From the start until now, Jack had used less than half of his regular NATO rounds and barely two magazines of armor-piercing incendiary rounds. He aimed to maintain their pursuers' aggression.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!" The pickup truck with the mounted machine gun, just having overtaken another vehicle, had its engine blown up before it could fire. The engine cover flew up, and the terrified driver veered off, plunging into a roadside ditch.

Jack refrained from further shooting, not wanting to block the narrow road and ruin their ambush plan. Thus began a chase, the militants hot on their trail. The convoy's frantic response to the surprise attack spoke volumes about their desperation. While the initial casualties were relatively few compared to their total force, the gruesome scene was overwhelming, with dismembered bodies and blood everywhere.

Two new recruits were so terrified that they soiled themselves while hiding in a corner, witnessing what seemed like a scene from hell. Raduran Shasilun, hit by debris from a bullet, sustained an eye injury. Upon hearing that the attack was launched from a single vehicle, he cursed and directed the convoy to surround the attackers.

"Slow down to 45 miles per hour; you're going too fast," Jack instructed, watching the red-triangle-marked vehicles on his tablet slowly form a long line. He wished for an attack helicopter to obliterate the convoy but knew it was impossible. Setting the tablet down, he positioned the Barrett on the rear window, ready to fire.

Another blast sent a pickup with a machine gun crashing off the road. Jack didn't want to block the road, so he stopped firing, allowing the convoy to follow them. After about 20 minutes, they were close to the turnoff leading to the abandoned mine.

Jack heard Shebek's excited voice over the radio, "You crazy bastard, how did you pull this off? What are you, some kind of super soldier?"

Shebek, watching the drone feed, had witnessed Jack's masterful use of the Barrett. His near-automatic rapid-fire at a two-kilometer range was astonishing, making even the machine gunner Isaac watch in awe.

"Stop talking and get ready. Are you prepared?" Jack felt he might have overdone it. Perhaps he could feign injury later for sympathy from the others.

Lost in thought, Jack was jolted back to reality by Shebek's sudden shout over the radio, "You're here, right here!"

Gaspare, also wearing a headset, immediately eased off the gas, downshifting manually to slow the truck. The pursuers, now just 600-700 meters away, grew excited. Some leaned out of their vehicles, firing wildly at Jack and Gaspare's truck.

Taking cover behind the thick engine, Jack and Gaspare occasionally fired back, giving the impression that the truck had broken down and they were trapped.

As the convoy closed in, the leading vehicles stopped about 200 meters away. A few cautious militants began suppressive fire, fearing another round of sniper shots from Jack.

"Is the position good?" Jack asked, taking cover from the incoming fire that was turning their already battle-worn truck into a sieve.

"Perfect. Just hold on a bit longer; they're bunching up nicely," Shebek's excited voice hinted at a looming confrontation.

"Enough of this, we're getting torn apart here," Gaspare, with two grazes on his shoulder, and Jack, sporting a superficial wound from a ricochet, knew they couldn't endure much longer.

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