Thinking about Carrie and Nolan's upcoming wedding, Jack couldn't help but think of Zoe and Maureen's wedding. During their last date, the two mature won had repeatedly hinted that they wanted a special wedding gift.
He wondered how special would be enough — could he just pack himself into the gift box? These kinds of romantic gestures between couples were the most brain-draining.
Rubbing his head with a headache, he took the elevator to the 5th floor and found Hotchner. His wife, Haley, had finished her check-up and was doing well; she would be discharged the next day after one night of observation.
Jack asked him to pass on a small box of pastries. "This is... a tiramisu," Hotchner said, looking at the chilled cake sprinkled with vanilla powder with a puzzled expression.
"Don't worry, used only sugar free products. She can enjoy it"
Hotchner and Jack talked for a few minutes, before Hotchner went ahead and gave his wife the pastries and ca back.
Afterwards, the two chatted as they left the hospital and turned into a nearby Starbucks.
Hotchner was very curious about Jack's experiences, especially the marksmanship he displayed at the shooting range, which was even better than himself.
Jack didn't know how much Rossi had told him, only that Hotchner, although a prosecutor by training, had joined the FBI early on.
He had worked under Rossi for a ti, and later worked for the FBI's SWAT team and the FBI's operations office in Seattle.
So Jack could only discuss so cases from the LAPD. Fortunately, both were intelligent, and within the ti it took to drink half a cup of coffee, they both had a clear understanding of each other's roles in the BAU.
[A/n: Intelligent- I don't know about that]
The Starbucks next to the hospital was located in the basent of a shopping mall. It was only afternoon, and the parking lot was full of pickup trucks and SUVs. People love to take their families out shopping on weekends, buying enough food for a week or even two weeks.
Thinking about his date with the two mature won that evening, Jack didn't intend to have a deep conversation with this BAU manager.
After completing their understanding what roles they both play in the BAU, they ended their talk. Jack quickly said goodbye to Hotchner. Holding the half-finished cup of coffee in his left hand, he had just stepped out of the Starbucks' automatic doors when a gunshot rang out. Fifty or sixty ters away, a large section of floor-to-ceiling glass on the ground floor of the mall shattered.
Startled, he shrank back, drew his Glock pistol, and used the hood of the nearest SUV as cover.
Then ca the cacophony of gunfire. The continuous bursts of automatic rifle fire were deafening. Imdiately, the once bustling mall entrance erupted into chaos as people surged out.
Listening to the sounds of fire and heavy thuds of people running in panic, Jack felt his adrenaline surge as he stayed put.
Cries and screams mingled together. So quick-thinking individuals started their vehicles, their tires screeching as they tried to escape the chaos.
"What happened?" Hotchner rushed out of the coffee shop, drawing his own pistol and nervously leaning against Jack, staring at the surging crowd outside the mall entrance.
"I don't know. Judging from the sound, it sounds like an AR-15 with a modified stock. The shooter should be on the first floor, but I can't see him from here," Jack said, observing his surroundings.
By this ti, the crowd rushing out of the mall had scattered. So who had fallen and were injured, or who were too frightened to run, crouched down with their heads covered, or simply lay on the ground, using their arms to protect their heads.
It must be said that the first reaction of the Arican people to a shooting is quite standard. In chingchong, they even strip themselves, which while not a standard practice, is very debatable in value.
[A/n: Is it becoming more sensitive or the OG author beca more racist?]
Jack crouched low and ran a few steps, switching positions to the front of another SUV. From there, he had a better view of the mall entrance and could see the situation inside more clearly.
A figure wrapped entirely in Kevlar and wearing a tan tactical vest appeared behind the door.
This guy had a Level 4 bulletproof helt on his head, a shotgun slung across his back, and an AR-15 in his right hand. He was currently using his left hand to pistol, picking off the wounded on the ground one by one.
This was serious trouble. Jack glanced at his own Glock 22; compared to this fully ard man, it looked almost like a water gun.
At this mont, Hotchner had finished making a call to the police on his phone, crouched down, and followed Jack. He peeked into the mall and his face turned ashen.
Bang! bang!
The gunman finished off the groaning wounded on the ground, threw away his empty pistol, and started reloading his AR-15 as he walked towards the entrance, seemingly keeping an eye on the people near the door.
"Provide cover." Seeing that this guy was about to go on a killing spree as soon as he stepped out the door, Jack didn't delay any longer and handed his pistol to Hotchner. After all, it would be suspiciously criminal if he didn't go and subdue the shooter.
"What are you going to do?" Hotchner was taken aback and subconsciously took Jack's sidearm.
Jack pulled out his FK 7.5mm from under his arm, flashed it at him, and whispered, "Attract his attention and buy a second."
Hotchner subconsciously swallowed, his voice a little dry. "Are you sure?"
"Not sure, do you have a better idea?" Jack wasn't sure either, after all, master-level pistol shooting only adds accuracy, not armor penetration or damage.
"Don't force it, just attract his attention."
Jack bent down and ran a few steps to the right, arriving behind a pickup truck. He was now closest to the mall entrance, about 30 or 40 ters away, with Hotchner behind him on his left.
The two were at approximately a 30-degree angle, facing the gunman who had already exited the mall.
"Your cup!"
Hearing Hotchner's soft call behind him, Jack realized that his left hand had been unconsciously holding the half-full cup of coffee.
Jack's eye twitched slightly. He smiled calmly at Hotchner, put down the disposable paper cup, gave him an OK sign, and then switched to holding the gun with both hands. With his physique, he didn't need to hold the gun with two hands, but doing that in such a dangerous situation is likely asking to be killed.
Hotchner, After a mont's hesitation, seeing that the gunman had pointed his gun at a middle-aged woman shielding a child, he suddenly roared, "FBI, drop your weapon!"
As he roared, he braced his arms on the hood of the SUV and simultaneously pulled the triggers of two Glock pistols.
Bang! bang! bang!
[A/n: for the first ti I began to feel that OG author is trying write a gay character.
While Jack wasn't exactly a straight man, he didn't have many brain cells in this area either.
Bro, what do you an by that? The won were just asking for gifts, when they had married because you are freaking have no political power and for your freaking harem, feel grateful that they didn't beco bisexual.
...
Although many ingredients can now be bought in Asian supermarkets, these Aricans, who seem to know everything, can't even understand bamboo shoots, let alone more exotic ingredients.
Here cos another dose of chingchong-ism, and racism towards A*ricans. like dude, your making profit from this novel using those very A*rican shows and movies.
...
As soone from a region with diverse cuisine
Oh divine writer, do write the story and the world in your divine cunt-ry setting, they would also say, bullshit
]
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