Black-Haired Internal Revenue Service SWAT Agent - Chapter 237



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Charlie’s Bloody Fight in Prison Cell

I remember the first time I met Team Leader Fred Decker, Team Leader Jim Dawson and the other guys.

That day, I went there thinking about the atmosphere of LA SWAT, which often appears in Hollywood movies and American dramas and is actually quite famous.

As patrol officers or plainclothes officers, they are veteran special officers who have accumulated a wealth of experience on the streets and who carry out precise special operations step by step.

But that day, in the conference room of the Criminal Investigation Bureau, the people waiting for me were the A Special Forces agents who seemed to enjoy drinking every day on their unemployment benefits.

And since that day, I think I’ve been playing around with them, really reluctantly, waiting for the decisive moment to throw something in the towel.

But now that I think about it, while all those missions were missions, it seems like we also had to fight for our survival.

We all fought wars in which we had no choice but to harm people, unwillingly, for our survival.

Yet, in all their countless missions, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Decker and Dawson display their secret magic with such passion as they do today.

People looked different because of the way he led everything with such passion.

In less than 20 minutes, Decker and Dawson looked at everything from architectural drawings of the prison cells to electrical wiring diagrams and even plumbing and sewerage plans.

After that, the suppression teams and our SWAT created detailed operational plans, including individual routes of entry into the prison cell.

Even though Delta Force and Devguru are specialized units in hostage rescue operations, I didn’t know they would be able to come up with tactics to deal with a prison riot so easily.

And using that tactic, we’re now going to rescue six guards from the Hispanic thugs.

* * *

Standing in front of the large fire door between the Charlie wing and the main building corridor are about 50 members of the prison riot squad, and behind them, 11 of our IRS SWAT officers stand by.

The riot team members were equipped with bulletproof helmets, gas masks, batons, shotguns loaded with rubber bullets, and tasers, while we carried the same basic armament as them, plus four-lens night vision goggles, firearms, and tactical ammunition.

The operation to rescue 107 hostages from violent Hispanic inmates is now imminent.

“Five! Four! Three!”

Amy’s voice is heard over the radio in the main control room, counting down the time remaining until the operation begins.

At that very moment, all the lights in this hallway were turned off manually by the guards, not by the control room system.

Inside Prison Cell Charlie, just like here, all lights will be turned off except for emergency exit lights and entrance/exit indicator lights in case of fire.

But as soon as the lights went out, a tremendous vibration was felt inside the fire door, like people cheering in a stadium during the World Series finals.

I find that feeling creepy.

Is this what it felt like for ancient gladiators before they entered the arena, where wild beasts and enemies awaited them?

“Two! One! Execute! Execute!”

As soon as Amy’s operation signal is given and the fire door opens, Preston and Romano will use their M32 grenade launchers to fire tear gas grenades into the prison cell.

The next step is to attack with tear gas in the dark, followed by a double line of riot police officers rushing into the prison cell.

The suppression teams will create a passageway of up to 70 meters from the entrance to the inside of the prison building, while also acting as a barrier to prevent prisoners from rushing in from either side of the passageway while the rescue operation is underway.

Then our rescue team runs at full speed up the passage between the prisoners and the fighting team members.

Then, the gist of the entire operation was to rescue the guards from the ‘on-site control room’ located at the end of the passageway, about 100 meters away.

The problem is that beyond the 70-meter safe zone secured by the prison riot team, our SWAT personnel have to clear a 30-meter zone.

Of course, the worst case scenario, where some Hispanic guys in the control room start a standoff with a knife to the hostages’ throat, is the default option for our IRS SWAT only.

Even before the massive doors were fully opened, the sound of tear gas canisters being fired could be heard in the darkness.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!

“Carpet one, carpet two! Gooo! Gooo! Gooo! Keep your distance left and right!”

Following Amy’s radio instructions, riot team members wearing bulletproof helmets and body armor with chem lights attached to them swarm the prison cell.

As soon as they step inside, chaos breaks out.

Even from outside the door, the inmates were clearly visible as they ran in screaming and were hit by the shields and batons of the riot team members and fell down.

The suppression team’s guards seemed to be able to navigate the facility well without night vision goggles.

However, our SWAT team, with the help of Friendly Belle and her black brothers(?), had to conduct 32 rehearsals in the same structure as this one, in the Bravo cell.

After passing through the prison gate, he timed how long it took him to run to the end of the passage, about 100 meters away, while black inmates rushed towards him, and then devised his plan.

Right now, we are watching through night vision goggles from five or six meters behind as dozens of people engage in hand-to-hand combat.

I feel like my body, every blood vessel in my body, is being filled with adrenaline.

“Damn! Look at that guy!”

Preston, who was loading a flashbang grenade into his grenade launcher at the entrance, suddenly shouted, and shortly after, someone jumped out from inside the cell.

The team members are shocked even before they aim their guns.

“What the~?”

A man of average build with a beard who had somehow managed to break through the chaos and escape from the prison cell stopped in front of us.

The guy was squinting his eyes and tilting his head to get a clear view of us, but we were watching his every move through our night vision goggles.

Suddenly, a vacuum-like moment occurs where time seems to have stopped.

It seemed like everyone, including me, was debating whether to either bash this guy’s head in with a gun or taser him.

Then, all of a sudden, O’Connor thrust his night-vision goggle-covered head toward the guy, and the guy flinched.

At that exact moment, O’Connor shouted at him.

“hey!”

The sound startled the bastard and he ran back into the prison cell.

However, the bastard misjudges his bearings in the darkness and crashes into an open fire escape door, collapsing.

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It’s so absurd, it’s ridiculous, really.

Anyway, as the guards guarding the entrance were pushing the guy aside, the leader of the suppression team finally reported to us from inside the prison cell.

“The carpet (passageway) is secured! Purchasing team (rescue team), gooo! gooo! gooo!”

Taking that as a signal, we all ran inside.

Me, Decker, and Dawson, armed with Benelli M4 shotguns loaded with rubber bullets, take the lead as we enter the prison cell, and the scene unfolding before our eyes is literally a scene of pandemonium.

There were many people who couldn’t move because of the tear gas, but it seemed like there were quite a few who were more stimulated by the spicy gas and ran wild.

Dozens of people were tangled together, swinging clubs and batons at each other, and the sound of shotgun blasts mixed with someone’s scream.

It feels like I’m seeing people fighting against hordes of zombies, just like I’ve seen in movies and games.

Boom! Clang!

Boom! Clang!

I fired rubber bullets at the guys swinging their clubs at the shields of the crouching riot team members at the 2 o’clock position on the right.

As soon as they fall back, the riot team members rush towards them.

“Go! Go! Let’s go, Kim!”

Dawson tapped me on the shoulder and ran out, and I followed them, running like crazy.

To my left, Preston tasered and pushed back the guy who was charging at him, while Randall, who was ahead, knocked one of them out with a shovelling blow to the face with his shield.

No matter how hard the riot squad fought from both sides of the hallway, the Hispanic thugs kept popping out like cockroaches on a dark kitchen floor.

“Gooo! Gooo! Buying Team Gooo!”

The voice of the suppression team leader is heard over the radio, and his figure is captured in our 10 o’clock direction.

The place where he is standing is the end of the safety passage created by the suppression team members.

From now on, the 30-meter section must be cleared by our IRS SWAT alone.

Please, I hope you don’t shoot unarmed inmates.

At the same time, Team Leader Dawson’s message to us and Amy in the control room was transmitted over the radio network.

“The second phase of the purchasing team’s operation begins! The second phase of the purchasing team’s operation begins!”

Immediately after his message was delivered, we quickly reorganized our assault formation.

Randall, O’Connor, and Lambert took the lead again, with their shields raised, while I, Decker, and Dawson, with shotguns, followed closely behind.

Then, Preston and Romano, who were following us, fire flashbangs towards our front.

The sound of two M32 grenade launchers simultaneously firing flash grenades can be heard amidst the screams of the crowd.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!

Flashbangs fired by the two snipers fly down the corridor ahead and land.

The flash grenades flying behind were captured in the night vision goggles as they landed further away.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Then, the flashbangs exploded, and the zombies that were coming towards us stopped in their tracks.

Now we have to breach that section before they recover from the shock.

We, without exception, ran as fast as we could towards the end of the passage, towards the on-site control room.

I can hear my own heavy breathing inside the gas mask, and everything in my vision appears green.

I wondered if this was really happening to me.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

O’Connor and Randall, in the lead, use their bulletproof shields to push and knock down the staggering ones.

But one of them lunged at the shield that Lambert had raised, grabbed it, and wouldn’t let go.

As soon as I got there, I shot the guy straight in the face with the muzzle of my shotgun, and when he staggered, I kicked him with my foot.

But, right after that, something absurd happened.

A small, hunched over, man was walking towards me like a Tyrannosaurus, holding his desk high in the air.

That guy whose mind went to Disneyland is going to hit me with that.

The sight of him holding that thing, even though he was smaller than me, looked like an ant walking towards me with a piece of food about ten times its size in its beak.

Right in front of him, a guy is swinging a chain and swearing at me in Spanish.

What the heck~!

Boom! Clang!

Boom! Clang!

Boom! Clang!

The guy behind got hit in the thigh with a rubber bullet and dropped the desk on the guy ahead.

The one swinging the chain fell to the ground after being crushed by the desk, and the one who dropped the desk limped away.

Immediately afterwards, three people who had barely recovered from the shock of the flashbang also staggered and escaped to the area secured by the suppression team.

As our assault formation was about to advance again, something unexpected happened.

Clearly, something was happening that had not been confirmed in the reconnaissance footage of the Black Hornet that Strauss had sent out before the launch.

Even five minutes before entering, we observed that most of the Hispanic inmates were gathered in the first floor hallways and near the doors.

However, the scene unfolding before our eyes now is a completely different picture.

I thought one or two people would appear from the control room where the hostages were being held, and from the cells on the left and right, but the number soon increased to 6 or 7, then 13 or 14, and soon doubled to around 30.

And they’re all blocking the way between us and the on-site control room where the hostages are.

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