Time was too short. With bullets coming from behind, and her family to protect, Bella executed three actions in half a second—turning her head, shoving people aside, and leaning back. The bullet whizzed past her nose, missing by just a few inches.
Cold sweat broke out across her forehead. With her physical strength, this kind of hit wouldn't kill her outright, but like Captain America, it wouldn't be harmless either. A direct hit would hurt like hell for hours, and might even knock her unconscious.
Her movements were lightning fast, but the veteran Secret Service agent's gun was faster. With premeditation on his side, he'd calculated the precise shooting sequence.
Gunfire erupted in rapid succession. Muzzle flashes lit the darkness in brief arcs of fire as bullets tore through the air from back to front, slamming into the unsuspecting crowd and claiming life after life.
The three other Secret Service agents protecting the President were all killed. They never imagined that their respected and well-liked supervisor would shoot them in the back.
Duke took a bullet to the shoulder and another to the back trying to protect his daughter. The family of four armed civilians had been part of Walker's calculations too—he just hadn't expected Bella and Natasha to react so quickly. Most of the shots aimed at them went wide.
The young tour guide and President Sawyer posed no threat whatsoever and weren't part of the veteran agent's first wave of targets.
When veteran agent Walker saw that all four family members had survived, his expression didn't change. He quickly swapped magazines and swung his gun around for follow-up shots.
This time he was a step too slow. Natasha was furious! She'd stopped caring about hiding her abilities.
The young woman's eyes were intensely focused. With a pistol in each hand, she began firing methodically.
Walker had just pulled out a fresh magazine when he caught Natasha's gaze in his peripheral vision. Those weren't civilian eyes!
He instinctively rolled to dodge. The first two bullets he avoided through experience alone, but the third he couldn't escape. It drilled into his side and lodged inside, blood instantly gushing out. The fourth bullet punched clean through his left hand.
"Argh! Damn it! Damn it!" He ducked behind a pillar, clutching his left hand. His heart filled with despair—his carefully prepared plan had barely begun before falling apart!
No time to look back, no time for threats. Clutching his wound, he turned and ran.
He had no choice. Natasha already showed glimpses of her future as the Black Widow. Now, furious, she fired with deadly accuracy. Old, injured, and outmatched, he couldn't compete.
Samantha's USP45 barked repeatedly, automatic fire ripping through the air. The rounds lashed like whips against the pillar where Walker hid, sending fragments flying everywhere.
"You bastard! Get out here!" She bellowed with righteous fury, but when she approached with her gun raised, she found only a pool of blood. The old man, familiar with the White House layout, had escaped through another passage.
"Charlie! Charlie, are you okay?!" Bella and Natasha crowded around their father.
One bullet had hit his chest, but thankfully the bulletproof vest stopped it. The old man had only used pistol rounds, so the bullet hadn't penetrated—though the impact force was still brutal. Charlie lay on the ground, struggling for a long moment before managing to stand.
What a disaster! Of the President's four guards, three were dead and one had defected. He was the only one left.
The family of six civilians was mostly unharmed, though Duke's injuries were serious. Blood flowed freely.
The veteran agent's betrayal meant he definitely had connections with the attackers. The family quickly secured the door and confirmed twice with President Sawyer—without authorization, no outsider could open it.
They all breathed a collective sigh of relief. They weren't going anywhere. They'd stay right here in the underground bunker! This thing could withstand a nuclear blast—was there anywhere safer?
The problem now was Duke's condition. He was tough, but still within ordinary human limits. Without treatment to stop the bleeding, he'd die.
"This underground bunker has massive supplies—there must be medicine! I'll find it!" President Sawyer knew his place. He needed these civilians to protect him, so he volunteered to help.
As a bunker designed to withstand nuclear war, successive presidents had invested considerable thought into this underground facility. It had everything—they'd even stocked a whole crate of magazines like Playboy, worried the President might get bored during a nuclear crisis...
Medicine was abundant, filling two entire rooms in clearly visible locations. The operating room was fully equipped too. They just lacked a doctor.
Duke's entire side was soaked in blood. Emily had been excitedly taking photos with her phone earlier, but now had completely lost interest. She tossed her phone aside, tears filling her wide eyes.
"Um, I'd really like to help, but I studied law..." President Sawyer admitted he didn't know how to treat wounds, much less extract bullets, suture, and clean injuries.
The others looked at each other. The young tour guide shook his head—he fainted at the sight of blood.
Charlie and Samantha's medical skills were probably on par with a veterinarian's. With no practical experience, they feared they'd kill Duke through their fumbling.
Bella and Natasha exchanged glances. The young woman looked eager to try, but ultimately shook her head gently. She'd learned battlefield first aid, but medicine involved so many disciplines. Even with her intelligence, her foundation was lacking. She knew the theory but had never practiced. She wasn't confident.
"Then I guess it's up to me." Bella realized she'd have to be the quack doctor.
She recalled her experience treating 006. That had been invaluable emergency care experience, and Shaw's guidance had been excellent. Reviewing it carefully in her mind, she felt about sixty or seventy percent confident.
"Sister, are you a doctor? Please save my dad!" Little Emily grabbed Bella's sleeve, her face pleading.
I'm about as far from being a doctor as you can get! This is just throwing me to the wolves!
Bella didn't dare tell the little girl the truth. Just pretend I'm a doctor!
Everything in the underground bunker was brand new. They moved Duke onto the operating table, and Bella made a show of adjusting the surgical light to examine the wound.
Confirmed! This time the bullet was lodged inside, hadn't passed through!
No question about it—extract the bullet first.
Modern medicine has precise protocols and precautions for gunshot wounds.
Bella didn't know any of that. Her method was simple: apply anesthetic, cut open the wound, grab the forceps, and yank the bullet out!
The whole process required boldness, precision, good eyesight, and steady hands. Bella had all of these. In ten seconds, she located the bullet, then gripped it with the forceps and slowly pulled it out.