Sssssss—
Jack grabbed a cup of water off the table and dumped it onto the coals, extinguishing the grill in an instant. He raised a hand to stop John, who had already drawn his sidearm, and pointed toward the slightly ajar door.
"John, stay here."
John immediately understood. He slid to the door, quietly shut it, locked it, and pressed his back against the wall. With Jack at the rear, there was no need for extra backup—what they did need to watch for was a diversion tactic.
Everyone else reacted quickly too. And in that brief pause, the state trooper Geoffrey had already rushed down the corridor toward the holding cells, with Sheriff Ronick hot on his heels, followed by the slightly overweight veteran officer Jasper.
Bang bang bang! Gunfire erupted from the detention area—sharp and tight, all from a single Smith & Wesson M&P40, standard issue for DPD and the state troopers. Mixed in were quieter pops, like champagne corks—someone was using a suppressed handgun.
When Jack arrived, he saw the white state trooper sprawled on his back at the threshold of the holding block. The tray of food Jack had handed him earlier was overturned, scattered across the floor.
Geoffrey had already turned the corner, giving chase to the unknown assailant. The back door of the precinct was just around that corner, and the state's prisoner transport bus was parked outside. Ronick was right behind him.
"Dammit, stay with me!"
Jasper was shouting as he knelt beside the wounded trooper, checking his condition. But Jack only needed a glance to know it was hopeless. The man had taken at least four rounds to the chest, two more to the abdomen.
It wasn't that Jack was heartless or unwilling to help—he simply couldn't perform a miracle here, not with Jasper watching and Alice arriving just seconds later. And inside those holding cells, four pairs of eyes were fixed on the chaos, watching every move.
Three of the prisoners were screaming their heads off, clearly traumatized by what had just happened, begging to be let out. Only Bishop—the imposing Black man—remained calm, crouched in the corner of his cell, eyes coolly scanning his surroundings.
"Alice, help me get him inside!" Jack glanced toward the hallway leading to the back door. Geoffrey and Ronick were already out of sight—evidently, they'd chased the shooter outside.
Worried for their safety, Jack dashed through a storage room filled with junk and emerged at the far end of the hallway. There, the metal door stood wide open, snow and wind howling through, and in the distance—more gunshots.
"Sheriff Ronick?!" Jack called, only to witness the very thing he feared: Geoffrey lying face-down in the snow, unmoving. Ronick was dragging his body backward, struggling with all his might.
Just as Jack moved to help, a chill shot down his spine—a murderous intent, icy and precise, focused on him like a coiled viper in the dark.
Sniper!
Jack reacted instantly, raising his Sig Sauer P320-XTen and emptying the entire magazine—14 rounds of 10mm Auto—into the blizzard without aiming. He wasn't hoping to hit anything. It was just to disrupt and suppress whoever was aiming at them.
Though the magazine technically held 15 rounds, Jack only ever loaded 14 to avoid wearing out the spring. And he didn't have the habit of chambering an extra round unless absolutely necessary—too easy to risk an accidental discharge.
"What the hell are you doing? Help me!" Ronick yelled, clearly unaware of the sniper. He assumed Jack was just firing wildly for cover.
Jack didn't bother explaining. He could feel the oppressive presence easing slightly. His blind volley must've made the shooter reconsider. With the immediate threat reduced, Jack burst through the doorway.
The snow outside was already ankle-deep. Jack grabbed Geoffrey by the collar and, with a burst of strength, hoisted the 180-pound man like a rag doll.
Ronick looked stunned—Jack had just lifted the man single-handedly like a child.
"Close the door and block it with something!" Jack barked, half-dragging, half-carrying the injured trooper back inside.
"Alice! Jasper! How is he?!" Jack shouted, setting Geoffrey down as Ronick rushed around the corner to check on the earlier victim.
"He's dead! Sons of bitches!" Jasper was livid, pointing at Bishop's cell and cursing. "This is all because of that bastard Bishop! They came for him! That son of a—!"
"Let us out! I don't want to die in here!"
"Please! Let us go!"
The other prisoners were yelling again in panic. Bishop, meanwhile, simply paced calmly inside his cell, brows furrowed but silent.
"Hey! HEY! Calm down! The danger's over!" Ronick shouted as he holstered his gun and pulled out his baton, roaring, "SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP! YOU'RE SAFE NOW!"
The yelling faded, though the panic still hung in the air.
Jack, ignoring the chaos, focused on Geoffrey. "Get me hot water. We need to stop the bleeding or he'll be the second body tonight."
——
"You're a doctor?" Alice asked, rushing over with a basin of hot water and nearly burning herself as she set it down.
"Forensic pathology enthusiast. Emergency medical training." Jack's calm reply made Geoffrey twitch nervously on the couch.
"Relax! Forensic or not, it's still medicine. Move too much and I'll have to knock you out. The station's been cleared—there's not even emergency narcotics left in the evidence room," Jack said, pressing down on the wound like he was checking it—when in fact, he was secretly using healing magic.
In cases like this, controlled substances could be lifesaving anesthetics. But this precinct had nothing but scrap metal left in its evidence lockers.
Jack could use his healing magic, but pulling bullets out with no surgery would raise too many eyebrows. So, he'd at least have to simulate some kind of operation.
"Will this work?" Ronick asked, pulling a matchbox from his pocket and handing it over.
Jack opened it—inside were small white pills. "OxyContin?"
Ronick scratched his nose awkwardly. "I, uh… used to be shot myself…"
"New year, new start. Don't touch this stuff again." Jack replied coolly, popping four pills into Geoffrey's mouth and slipping the box into his own pocket.
______
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