All the vehicles in the open space ahead had New Orleans plates. Out of instinct as a cop, Brock decided to take a closer look, but the moment he approached, he was spotted.
Owen had been roaming around, and the Rogues were on edge. Brock showed up at the worst possible moment and was mistaken for Owen before he could even get close—a hail of bullets greeted him.
"Bang bang bang!"
Firing a few shots and taking down one of the gunmen, Brock slipped into the darkness, but he was far from calm. He had clearly seen the tattoo of the Rogues on the neck of the man he just killed.
What he feared the most had happened. He hadn't expected "Crocodile" Billy to be connected to the Rogues. It was clear now—they had come knocking. As for whether they were after him specifically, Brock had no doubt.
"Dalton, you bastard, it's you, you traitor! Oh, I forgot, now I should call you Officer Brock…"
Even though the flash of light had been brief, the bearded man still recognized the figure as their target—Dalton.
"Hahaha, Dalton, you're not getting away. You think you can keep living? Do you even know what Danny plans to do with you and your precious daughter? Oh, I hear she's pretty cute. Danny plans to—right in front of you…"
"Bang bang bang!"
Brock answered him with a few bullets. The bearded man's men immediately returned fire, and a shootout ensued.
Brock was in a rough spot. He had only a revolver, and he was almost out of ammo. He was now using a weapon taken from a corpse. The enemy had the advantage in numbers, and worse, he was stuck in a dead-end with an open field ahead. Breaking through would be incredibly difficult.
Shit!
The gunfight had just started, and he was already in such a predicament. There was no denying his luck was abysmal today. Glancing at the bodies around him, there weren't many things he could use. Brock quickly assessed how to best use one of the corpses to break out.
Suddenly, "Bang!"—a loud blast erupted from behind the Rogues. One of the men who'd been gleefully shooting suddenly lurched forward, a massive wound gaping on his back.
Owen reloaded and fired again. Another man went flying, collapsing motionless to the ground. At close range, a hit from an M870 shotgun left little chance for survival.
Caught off guard by the rear attack, the Rogues panicked and turned around. Brock seized the opportunity, running out while returning fire and searching for new cover. Another Rogue dropped dead.
"Brock, it's me! Watch your fire\~\~"
Owen spoke up first to identify himself. He'd heard the bearded man shout earlier and realized the person across from him was Brock. He had to clarify before someone got hurt by friendly fire.
Brock also recognized Owen's voice now, but he didn't respond immediately. He had no idea who Owen really was or why he was here fighting the Rogues.
Bullets flew in all directions. Although outnumbered, Owen and Brock had formed a pincer attack. The Rogues were caught in the middle, under fire from both sides. They were just gang members, only used to fighting from a position of advantage. In this kind of situation, they immediately fell apart. Without effective leadership, they were picked off one by one by Owen and Brock.
With a loud "Boom," the last of the bearded man's men was blown away by Owen through a door, leaving only the bearded man himself. His eyes were filled with panic. Brock shot him in the knee, dropping him to the ground. Then he shot the other leg, and the man collapsed completely, groaning in pain.
The bearded man now looked nothing like the smug figure from before. His face was covered in blood, both legs shattered by shotgun blasts. Owen stepped out from the shadows, and the bearded man's eyes were filled with hatred.
"Lower your weapon, Officer Brock…"
Owen kicked the man's weapon aside. Seeing that Brock still had his gun aimed at him, he frowned and issued a warning. They were on the same side now. While he understood Brock didn't know who he was, he still didn't like having a gun pointed at him.
Brock hesitated but eventually lowered his weapon. The other man didn't seem to mind his status as a cop, and more importantly, Owen wasn't pointing a gun at him. To be honest, seeing Owen here was quite a surprise. Now that he thought about it, there was no way Owen was just a firefighter. Clearly, no one had been telling the truth that day.
"Who the hell are you?"
"That's not important. I'm not your enemy. Just listen to this first."
Owen tossed a small device to him. Brock caught it, eyeing Owen warily. Owen just shrugged nonchalantly. Brock discovered it was a small player. When he turned it on, a conversation played.
It was a recording of Billy and the current leader of the Rogues—something Owen had intercepted. As Brock listened, his expression grew darker and darker. If what he was hearing was true, he couldn't even imagine what his life would become. His wife was already dead—if Mandy was also taken from him…
Brock looked at Owen again. "Whoever you are… thank you this time."
The situation was clear. If Owen hadn't discovered all this in advance, Mandy might have truly fallen into their hands. They planned to use her to threaten him—he would have had no choice but to give in.
When Brock looked at the bearded man again, his gaze was sharp as a knife. But the bearded man just laughed maniacally. He'd heard the recording too, and his voice was full of mockery: "Brock, you can't run. The Rogues already know your and your daughter's real names. They'll find you sooner or later. Remember what I said? Danny's going to treat your daughter real special—ha ha ha…"
He didn't get to finish. Brock punched him hard in the gut, knocking the laughter out of him. Coughing, the man wheezed again: "Kid, I know who you are. You're related to the family Billy wanted to wipe out, right? Ha ha! Killing me won't help. You're all going to die. The Rogues won't let you go. Ha ha! Pull the trigger. Kill me! I'll be waiting for you in hell…"
The bearded man had gone completely mad. Owen ignored him and turned to Brock. "Since you've been undercover in the Rogues, I assume you know where their headquarters is?"
"Of course."
Brock nodded. This guy knew way too much about him.
Owen got the confirmation he wanted, then turned to the bearded man. "Sorry, but you messed with my sister. That means you have to die."
He leveled the M870 at the man's head. The bearded man's confidence melted into fear—no one is truly unafraid of death.
"No, you can't—"
Boom\~\~
Owen gave him a face full of cherry blossoms. Brock wiped his hand across his face to clear the splatter, then asked again, "Seriously, who the hell are you? CIA? Some foreign agency?"
Owen clearly knew who he was. That implied he belonged to some powerful official organization. But judging by his style, it definitely wasn't the FBI. Maybe the CIA, with their ruthless reputation…
Owen shook his head and pulled out a Navy SEAL insignia, waving it at Brock. "I'm with the military. Special circumstances. Don't dig any further. Just know I mean you no harm. Also, please keep this to yourself. My family doesn't know my true identity."
Owen made it up on the spot. He didn't have any special ties to Brock, but killing him wasn't an option either. A made-up military background was the best way to reduce the risk of his family being exposed.
Brock was still skeptical, but at least for today, they were on the same side. One thing was clear—Owen hadn't lied about not being his enemy.
Looking at the bodies littering the ground, Brock asked, "What now? What's your plan?"
"Search the auto shop. You'll probably find Billy's drugs. Whether you write it up as a black-on-black hit or as you taking them down during a bust, that's up to you. Just don't mention me. I don't belong in your report. The cops will be here soon. Stay here—I have to take care of something else…"
"Something else? The Rogues' headquarters?"
"Yeah."
"…Alright. Count me in. I don't want Mandy spending the rest of her life being watched by scum like them."
______
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