At that moment, the distant sound of police sirens echoed, and soon after, a dozen police cars stormed into the hospital. The car doors swung open, and a large group of heavily armed officers poured out.
“No one in or out.”
Dozens of officers shouted as they sealed off all exits. Two teams of plainclothes officers rushed straight to the parking lot.
Darnell frowned slightly, quickly retreating to the side of the woman with almond-shaped eyes. He wiped down the police gun and handed it back to her.
Then he glanced at the little girl, seeing she was safe, and slipped into the parking lot, disappearing from sight.
Darnell avoided dealing with the police not only to stay out of trouble but also to avoid exposing himself.
As he walked down the slope of the parking lot, a flash of light caught his eye. He turned his head and saw the little girl’s crystal ball lying in a corner.
It had evidently rolled down from above.
Darnell picked up the crystal ball, intending to return it to the girl. But hearing the commotion above from the police, he changed his mind and pocketed it before quickly disappearing.
An hour and a half later, Darnell returned to his rented apartment in Woodsea. He took a shower and destroyed the blood-stained clothes that still smelled of gunpowder.
Then he sat on the couch in his boxers, munching on a carrot while turning on the TV to watch the news.
He wanted to understand what had happened in the shootout.
“This afternoon, a shootout occurred at the Whiteville Hospital, resulting in eight deaths and four injuries.”
On screen, a reporter was live at the Whiteville Hospital. The background showed a heavily guarded crime scene bustling with activity.
The reporter’s expression was solemn. “Three unidentified gunmen illegally armed attacked Cortez Impey, the chief accountant of the Swain Group, in broad daylight.”
“This resulted in three plainclothes officers being killed. Cortez was rushed to emergency surgery. Fortunately, the police fought back bravely and ultimately killed all three gunmen.”
“Police suspect this attack was an attempt by interested parties to silence Cortez.”
The reporter hinted, “Earlier, Cortez was arrested at Whiteville Airport and attempted suicide by jumping off a building. He had been persuaded by police to turn state’s evidence against Zane Swain by handing over Swain Group’s financial records.”
“Just released from hospital today, he was attacked again. Police have formed a special task force to thoroughly investigate today’s violent shooting.”
“Meanwhile, citywide police will investigate illegal firearms. Citizens with any information are encouraged to call in.”
Darnell squinted slightly, recalling recent news about a $60 billion financial fraud case. He looked troubled. “Peace will be hard to come by now.”
The mastermind behind the $60 billion scam would be difficult to deal with. Darnell sensed he might get caught up in this whirlpool.
After thinking for a while, he finished his carrot and sent Wendy a message on his phone.
“Daddy, my ball…”
As Darnell sent his message, a crying girl appeared on screen being carried on a stretcher. She kept repeating “daddy” and “ball”.
Darnell recognized her as Eva Impey, the little girl he had saved. He then looked at the crystal ball on his coffee table.
At that moment, the Whiteville Hospital’s emergency room was crowded with police officers.
Today’s shootout was Whiteville’s worst since its founding. A daylight firefight between criminals and police naturally alarmed many people.
Not only were top police officials present, but also several city leaders. Mishandling this incident could cost many their jobs.
These high-ranking officials waited for news on Cortez’s surgery while taking reports from their subordinates.
The atmosphere in the hallway was tense yet quiet.
Ten minutes later, a tall female officer appeared with several colleagues. As they walked through, other officers nodded and greeted her.
“Captain Meech.”
The female officer, Judith Meech, nodded back crisply and efficiently.
She appeared around twenty-three or twenty-four years old with shoulder-length hair framing her pretty oval face devoid of makeup.
Her most striking features were her bright eyes filled with vitality and determination radiating integrity.
Her long fair neck led down to a neatly pressed uniform, accentuating her full chest attractively.
Dark cylindrical pants clung tightly to her long legs, revealing perfect curves. Even in flat shoes, she stood over 5’7″.
She exuded an air of authority enhanced by her holstered gun as she nodded at senior officials before entering a room holding three dead gunmen’s bodies.
Busy colleagues greeted her loudly, “Captain Meech.”
Judith used gloved hands to pinch the one-eyed gunman’s face. “Kameron, have you identified these three?”
“They’re the Lonsdale brothers from Morbridge,” an older officer replied respectfully. “The one-eyed man is Phillip Lonsdale, with over twenty kills, a top wanted criminal.”
“He fled abroad years ago, reportedly running a successful jade business in Myanmar without any record of returning.”
“The Lonsdale brothers?”
Judith squinted, recognizing them. “Those bastards used to rob banks, killing openly on the streets.”
“They escaped after injuring eleven during the Morbridge shootout, now killing here again so brazenly.”
“But they likely had no personal grudge against Cortez. They are more likely hired guns.”
“Trace their movements, starting from ambulance and weapons and expanding into daily activities. We’ll find clues.”
Kameron nodded understandingly, “Got it.”
“All three shots were precisely between eyes, uncannily accurate marksmanship,” Judith examined bodies swiftly then asked, “Kameron, who fired those shots?”
Kameron responded immediately, “It was Shea’s service weapon.”
Judith squinted skeptically. “Shea? She’s good at close combat but lacks marksmanship due to poor eyesight. How did she kill them?”
She questioned further, “Where is Shea?”
Kameron responded in a low voice, “She’s in critical condition, not looking good. Over forty fragments in her back, and she’s lost a lot of blood. We’ve had two critical notifications in half an hour.”
A flicker of pain crossed Judith’s pretty face, which was quickly replaced by a gleam of insight:
“Shea’s marksmanship was never the best, and the likelihood of her taking out an enemy with a single shot after being hit is even slimmer. How could she have killed three bandits in a row?”
She pondered aloud, “And Phillip is a tough character.”
She respected Shea, but she still didn’t want to let any doubts slide.
Kameron forced out a sentence. “Perhaps she hit the bandit first, and he returned fire and injured her before dying.”
Judith shook her head gently. “That was a shot to the forehead, a direct hit to extinguish life. How could the bandit have managed a shot in his dying moment?”
Kameron hesitated for a moment before saying, “Captain Meech, it’s true that the bandits died strangely, but that’s not the point. We should be pursuing the masterminds behind this.”
“Masterminds?” Judith snorted coldly, “Who else would dare to kill like this, except for that mad dog, Zane?”
“Pass the word that Cortez survived the rescue.”
She turned her head to look out the window. The sky had darkened, with dark clouds looming over the city.