Chapter 1174 Self-Destructing Robot
It was already past 12 o'clock, and the patrolling police helicopters in the sky had been replaced by a new group, but the confrontation between the two sides still showed no sign of ending.
But to be honest, Texans are more powerful than Californians in terms of execution. The DPD quickly issued a temporary no-fly order through the FAA (Federal Aviation Administration), allowing only police aircraft to fly within the city.
Therefore, the embarrassing situation that the helicopters of major news stations in Los Angeles are more than the police helicopters did not occur, and all the interview cars were stopped two miles away.
Aubrey leaned against the command car with a gun in his hand and looked at the second floor of the library, which was illuminated by countless searchlights and turned white. He couldn't help yawning.
"If you really have nothing to do, drive our car over here, and we'll go have a midnight snack together after the matter is over."
Jack disliked this guy standing here and being an eyesore. The DPD police officers around him were so nervous, but he was the only one who was relaxed.
"I just heard that the bomb disposal team is removing suspicious packages from the underground parking lot. If it is confirmed to be a fake bomb, does it mean that the SWAT team can go?"
Aubrey has been through a lot with Jack. Not to mention that he can remain calm in the face of gunfire, at least it is difficult for him to get nervous in this situation.
"Even if it is a fake bomb, it does not mean that Mika Johnson does not have other explosives on hand. He is well prepared."
However, Jack became interested when he heard him mention the bomb disposal team. He seemed to have seen an explosive disposal robot just now. This time he did not have to experience the adventure himself, and it would be nice to be a spectator.
Sometimes a man's hobby is quite simple. Putting an excavator there to dig earth can attract a group of idle people to watch. Watching the bucket repeating the monotonous operation and digging up the sand shovel by shovel, the pressure of life seems to be much lighter.
The bomb disposal robot used by the DPD bomb disposal team looks very much like an ultra-small excavator, except that the cockpit is replaced by a pole with a camera, and the position of the excavation arm is replaced by a universal manipulator.
Well, at least the tracks of the remaining parts look quite similar.
"This is our latest model of remote-controlled bomb disposal vehicle - 'Remotec Model F-5'. We just installed a water bomb for explosive disposal on it."
After the two FBI agents revealed their identities, a bomb disposal expert who was obviously transferred from the military took the initiative to introduce.
"The detector did not find any suspected explosive components on this package, but to be on the safe side, we decided to use air compression to destroy it."
"Will this not detonate the bomb?" Aubrey asked curiously.
"The probability is not high. The high-speed airflow will instantly destroy the internal circuits and detonators and make them ineffective. Moreover, we can now basically confirm that this is a fake bomb. Maybe it's just an idiot student who forgot his schoolbag here."
This middle-aged man in his forties, with extremely hard facial lines and full of military temperament, is a guy with a cold face and a warm heart. He seems to be serious, but once he opens his mouth, he will talk endlessly.
He has a poker face and explains while his hands do not stop. He carefully uses the remote control to operate the robot to approach the suspicious backpack.
"3, 2, 1" With a muffled sound, the backpack placed next to a pillar was instantly pierced by the compressed airflow, and for a moment, paper pieces flew all over the sky and dust flew in the face.
The bomb disposal expert's judgment was correct. The suspected bomb was actually probably just a backpack left behind by a student, but it was over in an instant, which seemed not as good as the excavator digging the soil, which Jack could watch for an entire afternoon.
He was about to say goodbye to the bomb disposal expert, but saw Aubrey holding his chin and looking at the bomb disposal robot thoughtfully, "You say, if the current confrontation is caused by the fear that the other party may have explosives and cause additional casualties, is there a possibility?"
——
"Use a remote-controlled robot to approach Micah Johnson? Then what? I don't remember that the bomb disposal team's bomb disposal robot is equipped with weapons."
Chief David Brown was annoyed, and his tone seemed a little stiff. Now that the two sides have been deadlocked for several hours, DPD does not have to worry about the media questioning whether the police will maliciously kill the suspect.
But if we delay any further, there might be some veiled comments on the morning news today mocking the DPD for being incompetent and wasting taxpayers' money.
"But it's not difficult to make a temporary modification. Sergeant Lake said he could use the materials at hand to make a simple device that can release stun bombs. It would only take about an hour."
Aubrey smiled and raised a finger. The Sergeant Lake he was talking about was the bomb disposal expert who seemed serious and stood behind them at this moment.
"One hour? That's too long, and stun grenades can't guarantee that the suspect is incapacitated 100%. I don't want the suspect to detonate the bomb on his body when my officers rush over."
Chief David Brown frowned and lowered his head to think for a while, then waved to the bomb disposal expert to come forward, "20 minutes, install 1 pound of remote-controlled C4 on your little toy, can you do it?"
"Ah?" Even though the bomb disposal expert is always calm, he was stunned when he heard this, but then he reacted, "Of course, sir, it can be done in 15 minutes."
Jack and Aubrey looked at each other and found that they both had a dumbfounded expression. Go straight to C4? Is this DPD chief so fierce?
——
In the quiet corridor, Micah Johnson's heavy breathing was still clearly audible even across the nearly ten-meter-long corridor.
The police negotiators had already shouted hoarse and gave up, and the police cars downstairs had all turned off their sirens. However, the searchlights shining through the windows in the corridor were still dazzling, sometimes mixed with the flashes of red and blue police lights. Pass away.
Micah Johnson knew he was going to die. There was a bullet wound in his left arm. Although he loosened the tourniquet every 20 minutes, the numbness in his fingers became more and more obvious.
He knew that there was still a bullet in his back that penetrated the ceramic insert and got stuck in his ribs. Although the bleeding stopped quickly, every breath he took brought a sharp pain that reached to his toes.
If I had known earlier, it would have been better to purchase bulletproof inserts made by Siris directly. Many comrades in Afghanistan used cheap "knock-offs" and never heard of any problems.
The excitement brought to him by the white powder prepared in advance was gradually fading, and sleepiness began to gradually invade Micah Johnson's brain.
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He just sucked off the last bit, but the effect was very poor. That damn drug dealer probably tricked him. If he could escape, he would definitely put a bullet into that bastard's head as soon as possible after returning.
Maybe now he should try to pretend to be dead and trick those damn cops into coming in. He still has a lot of bullets, and even if he kills one more, he will still make money.
Just when Micah Johnson's groggy brain couldn't help but start thinking wildly, a strange mechanical sound came into his ears.
The crunching sound echoed in the quiet corridor, like crawlers running over the ground, giving people an inexplicable creepy feeling.
This sound reminded Micah Johnson of an old movie called "Thunderbolt 5" that he watched in his childhood. There was a robot in it that made this strange sound.
Curiosity made him couldn't help but quickly glance in the direction of the sound. When he saw what was coming clearly, he couldn't even believe his eyes.
Is it really the robot called "Thunderbolt 5"? But my childhood self clearly liked "E.T. aliens"?
Just thinking so wildly, Micah Johnson couldn't help but change his position and quickly took a look into the corridor again.
He read it correctly. It was indeed a robot. There was a manipulator on the big crawler chassis, and there was a white thing clamped on the manipulator.
"Damn cops, what do you bastards want?" Micah Johnson pulled the trigger on the strange thing repeatedly, and the bullets scratched sparks on the metal baffle and tracks.
But the robot continued to move forward, very slowly, but seemingly unstoppable. 8 meters, 5 meters, 3 meters were already in sight.
"Go to hell!" Micah Johnson roared, but before he could take any further action, a white light lit up, and a huge explosion shattered the glass of the entire corridor, tearing down all the ceilings.