Four Hundred and Eighty-Two Chapters From the Call of the African Chief: Thapris! Maja Fake!

Selena suddenly reminded: "Three kilometers ahead, I found a convoy, a total of five pickups, with more than 30 people."

Luke hummed and moved on.

Selena: "Dito met with the team. He didn't stop, he continued to escape, and the team stopped Martin and the others. Martin and the others were stopped, and they exchanged fire."

Luke listened to the intensive gunshots coming from the window, and said casually, "Are Martin and Roger okay?"

Selena: "It's probably a little bad, they shoot too low frequency."

Luke's mind turned and he probably understood.

The two chased too quickly and did not replenish much weapons and ammunition, and the ammunition that Martin had prepared before should have been almost consumed in the battle of the manor.

The bodyguards of the squad who were chasing Dito did not use too much ammo.

But Dito's reinforcements appeared again, and the number was too much to worry about, and Martin was a little bit waxy.

While thinking about it, Luke turned off the lights: "Send a drone to detect the road ahead for me. I'm going to go around."

Selena operated it quickly for a moment and stretched the tablet in front of him: "The safe route is probably like this."

Luke moved his eyes slightly, looked at the route marked by the red line on the tablet in front of him, calculated quickly in his heart, and said, "I'll go around Martin and the others later, you take the bag in the back seat. Throw weapons and ammunition at them."

Selena retracted the tablet, leaned over to the back seat and grabbed the big bag.

This is a batch of weapons that Luke seized just now, and he brought it over when he didn't use it.

He had storage space anyway, and never had too much ammo.

Selena dragged the backpack, lowered the back of the chair again, and placed the backpack on her lap while lying down.

At this time, the passenger's window was also fully open.

Luke has already started the countdown: "Three...two...one!"

Selena's movements completely followed his password, holding up the bag at three, holding it up to the window at two, and throwing it out at one.

But Martin and Roger were sweating in their vests.

When Luke drove up, Martin had noticed it, but the magazine in his hand had just been emptied.

Roger was hiding behind a stone seven or eight meters away. He only had a few bullets left, so he didn't dare to shoot indiscriminately.

This is not a TV series. If you shoot a speeding car with a pistol in the dark, the hit rate will be terribly low.

The next moment, the Ford pickup with no lights on passed by five meters from Roger's side, and the co-pilot threw a black thing, which just fell two meters away from Roger's side.

The hairs of the two stood on end for a moment, then suddenly froze.

This is not right.

The thrown things are so big, it's too outrageous to use X-bombs, and the neuropathy uses such a big X-bomb.

The Ford pickup didn't stop at all. After throwing the package, it pulled out an arc and inserted into the side of the defense line of Dito's bodyguard team not far away.

Martin and Roger knew right away that this Ford pickup wasn't Dito's, otherwise it would be best to park in the back and flank them with the team in front.

Sure enough, the Ford pickup, which got off the highway, was driving in the wild in a twisty way, and jumped up after accelerating sharply and rushing up a small dirt slope.

While the pickup was flying, Luke held a picked up Glock in his left hand, and the muzzle stuck out of the car window.

Clap clap clap clap!

A dense series of gunshots sounded, and the five people in the bodyguard team suddenly screamed and fell to the ground.

The pickup fell to the ground, Luke flicked his wrist to the back of the car, and the arc shot started.

Snapped! Snapped!

Two more bodyguards fell.

Throwing away the Glock in his hand, Luke pulled his hand back to the window and galloped away.

Martin, who was opposite, was stunned: "Holyshxt! What marksmanship is this?"

It took less than two seconds for the pickup to fly to the ground.

In this short moment, in the dark night, the pickup truck driver fired eight shots in a row, hitting seven bodyguards scattered around the convoy.

There is no cheating in the game!

Not to mention anything else, let's just say that Roger fired seventy or eighty bullets tonight, and hit less than five enemies.

As far as Roger's hit rate is concerned, it is already a good level in the Los Angeles police.

What is the overall level of gun law in the US police? According to some information, in the shootout with the suspect, the first shot rate of the pistol within ten meters of the American police is about 30%.

Therefore, there has always been a voice in the police system, requiring the police to practice more directional shooting at close range in the future and reduce aiming shooting. Anyway, there is only a 30% hit rate when aiming, which is not much different from not aiming.

And just now, the driver in the pickup truck made eight out of seven shots in two seconds in the flying car. This is the first time Martin has seen this marksmanship with his own eyes.

Roger over there was much more straightforward.

He is an old man and his eyesight is not that good.

After the bodyguard on the opposite side was shot dead by the speeding driver, he dragged back the large package dropped from the car.

When he touched his hand, he was overjoyed, and when he opened the zipper, he couldn't help laughing hahaha.

Martin returned to his senses: "What are you doing?" As soon as he raised his hand, he caught the flying AK, and then with the other hand he caught the two magazines thrown in sequence.

Roger: "The bags they dropped were full of weapons and ammunition, a lot." Then he picked up the AK in his hand, pulled the handle, and finished loading it with a click.

"Saprius! Majafak!" He couldn't help but swear by the extremely racial talent, and the AK in his hand swept wildly.

Martin was dumbfounded, with a black line on his forehead: "Roger, how long has it been since you used an AK?"

Roger crouched down embarrassedly, dodging a piece of bullets flying from the opposite side: "Haha, that's... um, I'm a police detective, and I never use an AK."

When he said this, he felt a little guilty.

In fact, he hadn't even touched the M4A1 in the car for a long time.

As he said, he is a police detective, not a special police officer, and the micro-charge rifle is not his main weapon.

If he uses the micro-charge rifle, why do he need SWAT (special police)!

Martin rolled his eyes and suddenly raised his gun.

Boom! Boom!

The two bodyguards who were firing on Roger collapsed screaming.

Martin: "So, don't hold the trigger, okay? You're not good enough to press the gun."

Roger's face turned black and he was speechless.

In front of the two, Luke's pickup had re-circled the road and continued to speed forward.

Selena: "Two kilometers ahead, there are buildings and lights. There is also a large area of ​​crops around, which may be Dito's plantation."

Luke squinted and looked ahead outside the windshield.

His keen eyesight could also dimly see a little light.

Selena kept saying: "They have a line of defense around the building, which is more formal. There are sentry towers and... uh, machine gun towers?"

Luke laughed hard: "So professional?"

Selena looked at the picture on the tablet carefully, and nodded firmly after a while: "It's really a machine gun tower, and there are two, both on a small tower in the center of the building, which can cover the entire building complex."