Screeeeech\~\~\~
A series of screeching brakes echoed as Dorok and his men rushed back, only to see the villa engulfed in flames and, through the lingering smoke, a cargo van and helicopters speeding off into the distance.
"After them!"
At Dorok's command, the convoy roared back to life, speeding after Owen and the others. The burning house didn't matter—he had no idea that his brother had hidden money inside the walls. That secret was known only to Leta. Even the direct bloodline members of the Sanchez family were forbidden from entering the third floor without Leta's order.
Now, Dorok had only one thought in mind: if his brother was still alive, he would be on that van. If he was already dead, then Dorok had to catch up and kill those people himself. Doing so would be the equivalent of proclaiming himself as the next leader of the Sanchez cartel.
"They're catching up..."
Sam's voice came through the earpiece. Owen glanced through the van's rear window and saw the pursuers drawing closer—vehicle after vehicle bursting through the smoke, racing toward them.
To be honest, the van's off-road performance was terrible. It skidded frequently on the mountain road and couldn't pick up enough speed. Meanwhile, the pursuing off-road vehicles were getting closer and closer. Bullets had already begun thudding into the van's body.
The van's walls were thin and couldn't stop bullets at all. Owen had nothing around him but cash. He started stacking the money-filled travel bags like sandbags between himself and the doors. They wouldn't stop much, but it was better than nothing.
"Little Bird One, let's buy our cash some time..."
Sam's voice came through the radio. The two Little Birds slowed down and hovered. The van kept going, barreling along the mountain road, but the helicopters turned sideways. The fighters on the side benches opened fire toward the road.
Rat-tat-tat\~\~\~
Bayev's PKM roared to life, muzzle glowing red as bullets tore across the mountain road and vehicles, kicking up sparks. The others soon joined in, a curtain of lead sweeping toward the enemy convoy.
The nearest vehicle suddenly shuddered under the barrage—its front dipped, bullets clanged and sparked across its body, the engine caught fire, and the gunman inside was riddled with rounds. The vehicle lost power and fell back.
"Ram through it!"
Dorok ordered. A pickup behind it slammed into the first vehicle, shoving it aside. The gunners inside the convoy began firing back at the helicopters.
A cacophony of metal clanging filled the air. The second vehicle also took heavy damage. Just then, a burst of well-coordinated machine gun fire rang out from below—one of the pickups had brought a mounted machine gun into play.
The machine gun's firepower was on a different level. Sparks exploded across the helicopters. The gunners aboard immediately recognized the threat and prioritized taking down the pickup gunner.
Three shooters simultaneously aimed at the truck. The gunner spewed blood and collapsed. Someone tried to take his place—but was instantly shot down as well.
At the same time, a rocket whooshed upward, trailing white smoke. It missed—but scared the hell out of the two Little Birds. The enemy had RPGs. That was a problem. The Little Birds were the smallest attack helicopters in the world. They had zero armor. An RPG hit—or even a lucky rifle shot—could take one down.
Both helicopter pilots yanked their control sticks. The Little Birds darted off at sharp angles.
Dorok's side briefly gained the upper hand. The pickups and off-roaders surged forward again. Bullets began to pierce through the back of the van, tearing into the cargo area. The windshield already bore multiple spiderweb cracks.
They hadn't gone far before the rear doors, battered by constant bumps and bullets, finally tore off completely. The van's interior was now exposed to the pursuing convoy. Owen's line of sight was clear—he began firing to suppress the enemy.
Bang bang bang\~\~
Trying to shoot out a tire on a moving vehicle, on a bumpy mountain road, was damn near impossible. Owen missed several times. Likewise, it was difficult for anyone behind to hit him—everything came down to sheer luck.
This time, Owen aimed for the driver's seat.
Bullet Time activated. Time slowed. Owen adjusted his aim with precision. Bang bang. Muzzle flash. Two bullets.
Both rounds hit the driver squarely. He slumped over the steering wheel, and the vehicle veered wildly off to one side. But at the same time, a rocket screamed from behind and struck near the van's rear wheel.
A flash of fire exploded from the point of impact. The van's rear end lifted off the ground, flames licking the metal. Then it slammed back down, nearly spinning out of control. Thankfully, the RPG hadn't scored a direct hit—it struck between the van and the ground.
If Owen hadn't grabbed the money bags, some of them would have gone flying out. He was pissed and activated Bullet Time again. But this time, the enemy driver had wised up, ducking low behind the wheel, showing only the top of his head—like a kid just out of reach. Owen couldn't get a clear shot.
The enemy gunner, however, wasn't so cautious. He kept sticking his head out, spraying bullets. Owen hit him with a short, controlled burst—dead.
Up front, Bryan kicked out the already shattered windshield. As soon as he did, Owen shouted, "RPG!!"
Bryan caught a glimpse in the rearview mirror and ducked instinctively.
A rocket tore through the van's rear, passed cleanly through the cargo space, and flew out the front window—exploding in the trees ahead. It was a terrifying near-miss. If Bryan hadn't removed the windshield just moments earlier, they would've been dead.
Owen popped out from behind the money bags and laid down suppressive fire. Bullets shattered the rear windshield of the enemy vehicle. He was beyond irritated. That RPG shooter was a pro. He hadn't fired many shots, but each one was dangerously accurate. RPGs weren't like rifles—they were notoriously hard to aim.
The two Little Birds had clearly noticed the threat as well. They maneuvered in the air, preparing to strike. As long as they didn't hover in place, it was nearly impossible for RPGs or rifles to bring them down.
The two helicopters launched another offensive, and the situation immediately shifted again.
Owen pulled out two grenades, yanked the pins, and tossed them back. The enemy vehicle dodged the first one—but not the second. The grenade blew out its tire. The pickup flipped, tumbling off the road. Simultaneously, one of the helicopters destroyed another truck's engine, flames erupting from the hood. The convoy bottlenecked, vehicles crashing into one another.
Heartbeat, seeing the convoy stall, swooped in with his helicopter. The Omega team members on the sides took the chance to drop all their grenades onto the enemy—explosions sent bodies flying.
They didn't wait to assess the damage. The two Little Birds quickly caught up with the fleeing van, streaking across the mountain road at full speed.
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