Chapter 682 - Is Your Future Wife Still Well?

The criminals were caught off-guard by the sudden attack.

Of the two people below, the one in the lead moved swiftly and shot accurately. He took down each criminal with basically one or two shots.

The policewoman wasn’t that good at shooting, but she provided good cover for the first person.

As for the professional gunman who was hiding on the roof and sniping people in the head, he was too much.

He emptied the Glock of seventeen bullets in three seconds, blowing up the heads of seven criminals and hitting eight in their chests.

Then, after he fired the last bullet in the first clip, he unloaded and slipped in another full clip that he was already holding in his left hand. It clicked in place.

A series of gunshots rang out again.

The criminals downstairs weren’t rookies, but experienced mercenaries.

After several of their comrades were killed, they realized that the gunshots were coming from the wrong location. Several of them raised their guns and started firing in a sweep above them.

Luke, however, was very calm.

He had already locked onto the approximate positions of the criminals, and half of them were dead. Those that were left were the most dangerous ones.

This was a game to see who was faster.

As long as Luke moved faster than the criminals’ guns did, he would have the upper hand in taking shots.

Once he had the upper hand, it would be near impossible for him to lose in a shootout at twenty meters.

As six criminals raised their guns and fired, Luke fired two bullets at each of them.

As soon as the six criminals fell, the gunfire on the street immediately died down, and the two people down below broke out of the prisoner van and charged into an alley on the side.

Maybe it was because of how the man in the front was so flashy as he moved, but one of the criminals whom Luke had taken down hadn’t let go of the trigger, and inexplicably, a stray bullet was fired off.

The man was already halfway into the alley, but he was still shot in the leg. He screamed and yelled “Motherf*cker!” as he rolled into the alley.

Luke was lost for words on the roof. What kind of bad luck was this? Only half his leg was sticking out and he still got shot? Good thing it wasn’t his knee.

But this wasn’t an ordinary person. Dragging his injured leg, he stood up, and then swung his arm out to knock down two approaching criminals. Even limping, he was as flashy as ever as he slipped away.

The policewoman retreated into the alley and followed him.

Luke didn’t stop shooting. He emptied his clip and knocked down the four criminals who were trying to reach the alley. He then put his pistol away and beat it.

He liked to do good deeds and not leave his name behind. He would let the police officers of England take the credit.

After taking several turns in the alley and walking almost a kilometer, he stood in front of an apartment building. Easily jumping onto the wall, he grabbed onto the fire escape on the second floor and climbed up to the fifth floor.

Stepping past two windows with ledges that were less than ten centimeters wide, Luke grabbed the edge of a third window and stuck his head out.

Someone inside was saying impatiently, “Ignore that damn phone call. The only way Dukhovich knows our route is because there’s a mole in Interpol. I need someone to treat my injuries, and you need help. Remember, it has to be an outsider.”

Luke listened for a moment before he knocked on the window with a smile.

They immediately pointed their guns at him.

They were both astonished to see a big smile and a waving hand outside the window.

The policewoman was at a loss.

Shooting would draw the police, and the other party hadn’t attacked first. She subconsciously glanced at the person next to her.

The other man raised his gun and frowned. Staring at the face for a moment, he said, “Honduras?”

Outside the window, Luke’s smile grew even brighter. “How’s your future wife?”

As soon as the question left his mouth, the man’s lips twitched, but he put down his gun. “Let him in. He’s not Dukhovich’s man.”

The policewoman was surprised. “Are you serious? Do you know how many assassins and mercenaries Dukhovich hired to kill you?”

Also, this guy who was hanging around sneakily outside the window looked like a killer! She muttered to herself, but under the gazes of the two, she still opened the window hesitantly.

After opening the latch, she immediately backed away from the window. Although she didn’t raise her gun, she was still ready to attack.

Luke opened the window and crawled in.

He nodded at the vigilant policewoman. “Hello, beautiful lady. How may I address you?”

The policewoman said, “Shouldn’t you say something first?”

Luke shrugged. “Call me Cool Bird.”

The policewoman: “Roselle!”

Luke then turned to look at the man on the couch. “Long time no see. You have it hard, Kincaid.”

At that moment, the person on the couch had already taken off his black beanie to reveal a bald head with the same withered tree and crows tattoo.

When he heard the name that Luke gave, Kincaid curled his lip and once again confirmed that he wasn’t mistaken.

Cool Bird was the name of the bar in Honduras where he had met his wife, Sonia.

The day he met Sonia, a young man had been sitting next to him, and they had beaten up the gangsters in the bar together.

Although he didn’t know much about this young man, and something wasn’t right with his face, Kincaid was clear about his situation.

If he fought this young man now, he would definitely lose.

Luke grabbed a chair and a stool and gestured at Kincaid.

Kincaid very consciously placed his right leg with the bullet in it on the stool.

As Luke fished out something from his backpack, he clicked his tongue and said, “Why do you need to be flashy when you leave a scene? If you had been willing to crawl those last few steps with your butt in the air, you wouldn’t have been shot, would you?”

Kincaid suddenly realized something. “It was you just now?”

The moment he said that, the policewoman, Roselle, who was a few meters away, immediately aimed her gun at Luke.

Hearing that, she thought that Luke was the one who shot Kincaid.

Luke, on the other hand, didn’t even look at her. He unhurriedly put on his rubber gloves and cut up the leg of Kincaid’s trousers with a smile. “Let me remind you that you shouldn’t talk nonsense without proof.”

Kincaid understood.

No wonder when he charged out of the prisoner van, someone had attacked the criminals at the same time, and with frightening marksmanship.

At the time, he had been in a hurry to break out of the siege and escape. He didn’t have the time to stand in the middle of the road and look up.

But even as experienced as he was, he was still amazed by the shooter on the roof.

To shoot without missing wasn’t as simple as the movies made it look.

In a real battle, a shooter had to control the situation, and their opponents weren’t fixed targets. It would already be outstanding if their shots made contact 20 to 30% of the time.

With Luke’s appearance now, Kincaid recalled how the criminals had collapsed like wheat being harvested, and understood everything.