Chapter 159: The Security Door Falls
“The riot shield material can’t withstand short-range direct handgun shots. The doorway is narrow—if they advance with shields, only one person can enter at a time. If they don’t use shields, at most two can enter together.”
“No matter how many come in, the narrow entrance and hallway will form a confined corridor that limits their movement. At that point, one of us just needs to take cover behind the sofa or coffee table and fire directly at them. We can at least take down their point man.”
“If we manage to injure even one of them, we can leverage the situation into a ‘rescue ambush’ strategy.”
“As long as they try to save their injured, they’ll expose themselves to our gunfire.”
At this point, the middle-aged man paused and looked at Skinny, as if seeking his approval on the plan.
“Great plan. I think it’ll work.”
“If we hold them off in the first wave, they won’t dare rush in recklessly again. Then, we can find a way to break out.”
Skinny nodded, affirming the middle-aged man’s strategy.
“Now, tell me more about your ‘crossfire net’ idea.”
“The crossfire net is about positioning our firepower so that the enemy is covered from multiple angles. No matter where they defend, they’ll still be within our shooting range.”
“One person covers the entrance, engaging enemies head-on. Meanwhile, we position shooters on the left and right. If anyone evades the front-line fire and enters the living room’s open space, the side shooters will gun them down.”
The middle-aged man explained, his tone calm and composed.
“That’s badass.”
Hearing this, Fatty gave a thumbs-up.
He didn’t fully understand the explanation, but he could tell it was impressive.
Meanwhile, Skinny’s eyes gleamed with excitement.
The middle-aged man’s plan was brilliant.
Skinny felt like he had struck gold. If he had to choose between this guy and Fatty as a long-term partner, he’d pick the middle-aged man without hesitation.
As for Fatty…
Aside from brute strength, he was useless.
And honestly, the middle-aged man’s combat ability might not even be inferior to Fatty’s. At least when it came to shooting, the middle-aged man was far superior.
A thought crossed Skinny’s mind.
Someone would have to stay behind and cover their retreat.
Realistically, that meant sacrificing them.
Before, he had planned to leave the middle-aged man behind.
But now…
Replacing his partner didn’t seem like a bad idea.
Fatty’s combat skills were… questionable.
He’d make a better scapegoat.
Skinny glanced at Fatty’s leg, then at his own gun.
If Fatty couldn’t move, he’d have no choice but to stay behind.
A sinister smile crept onto Skinny ’s lips.
“I think his plan is solid. What do you think?” he asked Fatty.
“I think it’s great too!”
Fatty nodded in agreement.
“Good. Then let’s divide our roles.”
Skinny wasn’t surprised that Fatty agreed. The guy never liked thinking too hard. As long as a plan didn’t immediately threaten him, he’d go along with it.
“You’re a good shot—you cover the main entrance,” Skinny instructed the middle-aged man.
“Alright. But I need more bullets.”
“This position will require a lot of ammo.”
The middle-aged man nodded, voicing his request.
“No problem. Fatty and I will give you some magazines.”
Skinny nodded.
But Fatty protested.
“I don’t have that many mags left!”
Right now, whoever had the most bullets had the highest chance of survival.
Without ammo, even the best fighter was useless against fully armed cops.
Hearing Fatty’s complaint, Skinny smirked.
He stepped closer and whispered in Fatty’s ear, “The front position is the most dangerous—you’re exposed to the cops’ gunfire the entire time. If we’re using him as cannon fodder, we need to make sure he stays there. We’ll be positioned at the sides, where we won’t need to fire as much. In the end, we’ll have more ammo left.”
Fatty blinked.
“That actually makes a lot of sense…”
He muttered under his breath.
Skinny’s smirk widened.
It was logical—but Fatty’s pig brain would probably forget about conserving bullets once the shooting started.
“Hand over the mags.”
“We each have four left, including the one in the gun. We’ll each give him two.”
Skinny extended his hand.
After some hesitation, Fatty reluctantly handed over two magazines.
Skinny took them and gestured for Fatty to move to the dining room, where the marble table would serve as cover.
Fatty glanced at the table. It looked solid—definitely safer than standing out in the open.
Feeling reassured, he hurried over.
Skinny chuckled.
The idiot had no idea.
The dining room was further from the entrance, making escape harder.
And in terms of visibility, anyone storming in would naturally look toward that side of the house—after all, the bedrooms were on that side too.
If the main entrance was the most dangerous position, then Fatty’s spot was the second most dangerous.
Meanwhile, Skinny was taking up the safest position.
With his back turned to Fatty, Skinny quietly handed over only Fatty’s magazines to the middle-aged man—keeping his own.
Then, he whispered, “When the moment comes, I’ll make a break for it. Let Fatty cover for us.”
The middle-aged man paused.
Then, he nodded in understanding.
Skinny moved into the guest bedroom.
He dragged two dead bodies from the bed and placed them near the door.
They’d come in handy soon.
Then, he aimed his gun through the doorway.
At that moment—
BOOM!
A thunderous explosion shook the air.
Skinny didn’t need to look.
He knew.
The security door had fallen.
(End of Chapter 159)
