The duo bolted toward the exclamations. Panicked cries filled the airport terminal.
Those who managed to survive the initial onslaught were pleading or desperately trying to escape. After all, how many could a dozen n kill with their weapons?
Considering their magazines—30 rounds tis 12— that equaled 360 bullets. Reloading would double that number.
However, not all bullets found their mark, and not every target received only a single hit.
Plus, people wouldn't just stand still and accept their fate. There were also brave officers who resisted, drawing the most fire.
Anyway, both of them encountered a pair of civilians in distress. Initially, the civilians were terrified at their presence, gulping and shivering nonstop.
Lin Fan couldn't bla their reaction. Not everyone could handle extre stress. Even if the brain scread for movent, the body was another obstacle to overco.
Since they weren't murdering people on sight, they could be regarded as the good guys, right? Compared to the devils they had just run from, Lin Fan's duo seed kinder.
Yet, no one dared to move under the watch of ard n, despite seeing sowhat friendlier expressions.
"Go, go! Don't stay here and ss up our job," Lin Fan gestured with his chin.
As soon as his voice faded, the crowd vanished, stunning the duo into montary disbelief. Had they really just seen that?
No wonder these people survived. Given their escape speed, which terrorist could catch up with them?
Perhaps they couldn't resist the attackers, but they could certainly outrun their peers to live a little longer.
They weren't the last. This ti, Lin Fan announced their faction and assured the crowd.
People kept surging toward Lin Fan's direction. As the point man, he had to maneuver his weapon while swatting away the crowd.
A man bumped into him, and Lin Fan pushed him aside with his palm. "Sorry."
Then, nothing more.
The man rushed off. Lin Fan frowned and kept moving. His sudden appearance had nearly made Lin Fan fire, catching his attention.
His posture seed to be hiding sothing, but now wasn't the ti to investigate. He didn't look shocked at confronting Lin Fan and the Marine behind him, unlike most others.
Also, he was running with a huge backpack. No sane person would try to escape with an unnecessary burden—well, at least not most people.
Regardless, as Lin Fan continued, he ca across an officer with a handgun. The latter snapped his pistol toward him.
Lin Fan and his partner imdiately reciprocated. "Friendly."
"You must be the reinforcents that little boy ntioned. Thank you for helping us."
"Helping you is also saving ourselves," Lin Fan replied.
"It's not like we have a choice," added the Marine.
The officer was a supervisor, and he quickly briefed them on what he had witnessed and his speculations. Although Lin Fan had already made rough estimates since first contact, he welcod more information.
The supervisor was dismissed since he wasn't much help here. It was better for him to manage and lead the defense of his fellow officers.
Honestly, communication between separated team mbers was almost nonexistent. This supervisor was lucky enough to have a radio in hand.
Even Lin Fan had no idea how the FBI's side was progressing. Hopefully, they were holding their ground.
Suddenly, shots rang out ahead. Lin Fan and the Marine rushed forward and spotted a lone terrorist, his side exposed to them, gunning down civilians.
Lin Fan aid quickly and pulled the trigger. Bang! Bang!
His shots landed, but the target rely stumbled. He couldn't follow up because two or three civilians rushed into his line of fire.
He hesitated—but the terrorist didn't. As expected, the figure imdiately turned his gun on them.
Rounds ripped through the bodies and burst of blood spread in the air. So rolled in disheveled manner because of the prior montum, cracking their joints.
Civilians caught in the crossfire collapsed to the ground. With no ti to mourn or check their fate, Lin Fan and the Marine quickly split to opposite sides. Their aim was difficult—waiting for a clear shot as the civilians moved unpredictably.
Lin Fan and John fired alternately, whoever had a better line of sight. At the cost of three more civilians getting shredded, Lin Fan finally ended the terrorist with a headshot.
Instead of running away or staying low, the panicked crowd cut through the crossfire and suffered for it.
The duo entered an open area, and Lin Fan fired an additional round to confirm the kill. Then, he turned to John. "Where did this guy co from?"
John shrugged. "If I knew that, I wouldn't have stayed a low rank when I was discharged."
"We might have a third group making an unexpected entry," Lin Fan said while pointing the remaining crowd toward an escape route.
The first group attacked from the entrance. The second caused chaos, launching rockets at aircraft and likely setting up overwatch—until they ran into another group of lunatics.
This must be the third or stragglers from the first but Lin Fan preferred the forr possibility higher.
"It's probably from the ergency exit," John suggested.
Lin Fan followed his gaze and spotted one in the distance. "The crowd must have been running from the gunfire, hoping to escape through this exit."
He already pictured what had happened. Monts later, more muffled gunfire erupted from the exit.
Multiple shooters—there was no ti to waste. "Hurry."
Too many angles forced Lin Fan and John to take a risk. Open areas were frowned upon in combat tactics, but the duo had to take a direct path to reach the source of the gunfire faster.
If they were ambushed, they wouldn't be in a good position to fight back later. It sucked, but sotis, life didn't offer a choice.
John took the lead while Lin Fan followed.
Both pressed forward, their boots crunching over shattered glass and shell casings. The air reeked of blood and gunpowder, the echoes of distant gunfire bouncing through the stairwell ahead.
They reached an ergency exit—doors battered open, the red EXIT sign flickering overhead. Bodies lay scattered, so slumped against the walls, others sprawled mid-flight as if they'd never made it past the threshold.
Screams erupted.
A group of civilians dashed away from the exit, desperate to escape the massacre inside. Just as they reached the doorway—
TAT-TAT-TAT!
Gunfire ripped through the panicked crowd.
Lin Fan's head snapped toward the source, but the shots had co from beyond the stairwell, out of sight. His grip on his SCAR-SC tightened as he scanned the dimly lit landing.
Among the fallen bodies, a couple had miraculously survived. They crouched behind a corpse, hands clutching each other, frozen in pure terror. Their breathing was ragged, their shoulders trembling as they braced for the inevitable.
Then, from the stairwell—two figures erged.
The terrorists stepped into view, rifles at ease, not firing imdiately. Instead, they lood over the couple, taking in their terror like wolves savoring a kill.
One of them let out a low chuckle, lifting his rifle ever so slowly. He wanted to see them break. To hear them beg.
John's voice was a growl. "Sick bastards."
Lin Fan didn't hesitate.
Crack! Crack!
Lin Fan's AK74 fired first, two rounds hamring the lead terrorist's chest. The man staggered, his twisted smirk vanishing as he collapsed backward, his rifle clattering to the ground.
John followed up. His AK47 roared, a 7.62 round punching straight through the second terrorist's skull, splattering the wall behind him.
The couple flinched at the deafening shots.
"MOVE!" Lin Fan barked, gesturing to the side. "Get out—now!"
They hesitated for a second too long.
A third terrorist, lurking just beyond the stairwell, swung his rifle toward them—
BOOM!
John fired first, sending the man stumbling back. But instead of going down, the terrorist twisted behind the stair railing, firing as he retreated.
Lin Fan and John ducked as rounds sparked against the tal fra.
"He's falling back!" John growled, reloading.
Lin Fan's jaw tightened. "We push."
They advanced up the stairs in tandem.
The terrorist knew his trade—clean, disciplined movents. He fired in controlled bursts, using every railing, corner, and shadow as cover.
Lin Fan hugged the inner curve of the stairwell, keeping a line of sight on their target. John flanked left, moving in sync.
The terrorist reached the next landing, shouldering his rifle for a precise shot—
Crack!
Lin Fan barely dodged the bullet as it smashed into the concrete near his head.
John grunted. "This guy's got hands."
Lin Fan exhaled. "Not for long."
They moved in unison.
John fired a suppressive burst, forcing the terrorist down another flight. Lin Fan sprinted forward, switching shoulders mid-run to keep his sights trained ahead.
The terrorist reached for his last magazine, desperate—
Too late.
BOOM!
John's shot slamd into his vest, sending him crashing against the railing. The man gasped, barely clinging to his rifle.
Lin Fan finished it with two precise shots to the head.
The terrorist's body slumped down the stairs, leaving a crimson trail against the cold concrete.
Lin Fan exhaled, nodding toward John.
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