Black-Haired Internal Revenue Service SWAT Agent - Chapter 238



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Charlie’s Bloody Fight in Prison Cell

Meanwhile, O’Connor, holding a shield at the front of the large group, transmits the situation over the radio.

“All call signs, attention! Three guards have been confirmed inside the control room! The other silhouettes are also believed to be the remaining guards!”

The distance between us and the zombie horde seems to be 16-17 meters, and the distance between us and the control room seems to be a little over 20 meters.

It seemed like it was time for the third phase of our operation to begin.

The Hispanic guys were also coming towards us in what looked like a barrage formation, and the sight of them sent hundreds of volts of electricity running down my spine from my neck.

Whatever mayhem is going to happen, it will happen right before our eyes.

Phew~.

I took a deep breath to gather my wits, then tried to broadcast the start of the next phase of the operation over the operational radio network.

But, someone else appears on the wireless network before me.

“Purchase team! 10 o’clock, 2nd floor! 10 o’clock, 2 firebomb throwers on 2nd floor!”

It was Strauss’ voice in the control room, watching us from the Black Hornet floating inside.

At his urgent warning, my, Decker’s, and Dawson’s shotgun barrels were pointed almost simultaneously at the second-floor corridor railing in our 10 o’clock direction.

Seriously, there was a guy there lighting a Molotov cocktail, and there was a guy trying to throw a lit Molotov cocktail at us.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

We fired rubber bullets at the guys from about 30 meters away, and the guy who was lighting the Molotov cocktail was hit in the head by a rubber bullet and fell.

However, the guy who was holding the railing with one hand and preparing for the throw staggered when he was hit by the rubber bullet and fell over the railing.

And before its body hits the ground, the Molotov cocktail it dropped first lands near the horde of zombies and explodes.

pop!

The men jumped back as they were hit by flames and glass shards that spread in all directions.

However, they do not back down and all of them start howling like wolves, heightening the atmosphere.

Then, after reorganizing the formation again, he stood facing us.

Yeah, let’s really give this a try, shall we?

Now, it seems like the moment has come when things really start to blow up.

“Purchase team, initiate operation phase 3! Now! Now! Now!”

At my direction, all of our team members took refuge in the cells on either side of the passage.

I watched them until the end, and after the team members were evacuated, I ran into the cell on the right.

At that time, the infrared strobe I had thrown down first was flashing in the middle of the passage.

There is an infrared lamp blinking, invisible to the naked eye and only visible to those wearing night vision goggles.

Now, taking that as a signal, Preston, Romano, and Grimes, who remained behind us, will take the agreed action.

However, the zombies approaching us did not stay still.

The ones in the lead start running towards us, screaming, and the ones behind them follow them all at once.

We were shining infrared lasers from shotguns and firearms at them from the cell doorway, and in an instant they advanced to within ten meters.

Then Dawson shouted into the radio.

“Damn it, Joe (Preston), Tony (Romano)! What are you doing? Hurry up!”

Just as his urging echoed through the wireless network, suddenly five or six prisoners who had been running toward us fell backwards.

Swoosh!

Shushu shu shu shu shu shu shoot!

Two jets of water gushing out with tremendous pressure engulfed those inside the passage.

The guys in front who got hit by the water jet fell backwards and fell, tangled with the guys behind them.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhh!”

“Ahhhhh~~!”

The Hispanic mob starts to rampage as the guys roll around in the water, screaming.

Just a moment ago, they were howling like wolves and showing off their madness, but now they are screaming as if to say, ‘Help me!’

Under Grimes’ protection, Preston and Romano sprayed water from a fire hose from an internal fire hydrant installed in the middle of the cell block.

The powerful jets of water, designed to extend to every corner of the second floor of the prison cell, knocked down the men rushing toward us like bowling pins.

In less than 10 seconds, all 30 or so punks were knocked to the ground.

Then the streams disappear from our sight, and Preston’s voice is heard over the radio.

“The purchasing team’s front line obstacles have been cleared! Purchasing team, gooo! gooo! gooo!”

As soon as they heard his situation report, the team members who had taken refuge inside the cells on both sides ran back into the passage.

The three team members with shields took the lead again, and almost simultaneously, Team Leader Decker, Team Leader Dawson, and I threw tear gas canisters at the place where the men were lying down.

As three tear gas canisters begin to spew gas, O’Connor counts them down.

“Gas distribution has begun! Five! Four! Three! Two! One! Go! Go! Go!”

At his signal, our assault formation charged forward again.

The Hispanic bastards who were already sick from being doused with water were now causing a ruckus and making a fuss because of the tear gas.

The men in the lead pushed back the men who were trying to get up with their bulletproof shields, clearing a passage for them, and we followed them, aiming our shotguns in all directions.

Through the night vision goggles, I could see not one or two, but about 30 people writhing on the floor, a sight that was truly difficult to see in the real world.

“9 o’clock, 3 Tango caught in the cell!”

At someone’s warning, I turned my gun, which was pointing forward, towards them.

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Then, a group of guys running out of the cell holding something like an iron pipe were caught in sight.

Instead of rubber bullets, I quickly took out a flash grenade and threw it at them.

Phew!

As the flash grenade explodes in front of them, who have come within 5-6 meters, they run back into their cells.

Immediately afterwards, a stream of water shot out from behind us and covered the three of them, tangled together and falling to the ground.

Today, Gold Team and Silver Team snipers were completing their missions with fire hoses instead of sniper rifles.

We soon made our way through the area where hordes of zombies had fallen, and arrived at the on-site control room in Prison Cell Charlie.

He began the verification process by shining the tactical light of his gun toward the guards who were groaning inside due to tear gas.

As we illuminated them one by one with the tactical light of our M4 shotgun, Pearson in the control room confirmed the guards’ identities through our helmet cam.

“Alvin! Cole! Jason! Ronald! Chavez! Colin! Six of them! All six of them! Get out of there, Kim!”

Immediately after Warden Pearson’s confirmation, Decker, Dawson, and I handed over the gas masks we had brought separately to the wardens.

As they donned their gas masks and helped their injured comrade up, Dawson gave me a thumbs up as I stood in the control room doorway.

Immediately afterwards, I looked at Team Leader Decker, who was standing guard outside the control room, and he also gave me a thumbs up.

I immediately shouted into the wireless network.

“All the ‘doves (hostages)’ have been secured! The purchasing team is now in the process of evacuating!”

Ahead of us, there were still a bunch of Hispanic thugs lying around who had been hit by a tornado.

They were about 6 to 7 meters away, and O’Connor, Randall, and Lambert, who were holding shields, stood toward them first.

Me, Decker, and Dawson each pulled out two flashbangs this time, and as they pulled the safety pins, Decker shouted into the radio.

“Flash bang! Flash bang! Flash bang!”

We fired six flash grenades at them one after another.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Beyond the team members holding their shields, a flash of light illuminated the area.

Smoke from tear gas and flash grenades, smoke from crazy bastards burning bedding and toilet paper, the screams of those bastards can still be heard.

It is a mess that still seems surreal to my eyes.

However, reality returns to me when I see the guards standing between the three of us, our shield-wielding teammates and shotgun-wielding officers.

I came to my senses when I saw his face, a mess from being beaten by the inmates, and his terrified look.

Quick, we have to get these people out of here!

“Let’s go, gang! Let’s go!”

Deputy Manager O’Connor, who was in the lead, ran out shouting, and we followed him.

The guys loitering in front of the passage were immediately blown away by the three people in front pushing them with their shields.

A moment later, we entered an area where a horde of zombies were swarming, and either they were stunned by the flashbang or they had lost their will to fight, so they just stared at us.

I made my way through them for about 10 meters, and it felt like I was running through a pack of hyenas.

With the shotgun tucked at his side, he could have easily shot anyone who came at him from close range, but no one came running.

Instead, six or seven thugs spot us approaching and run away, staggering towards the cells.

“We’re passing through the hot zone! We’ll be reaching the middle of the passage soon! We’re about to meet up with Carpet One and Two!”

We made it through the 30 meter section of the tunnel without any problems and reached Preston and Romano’s position holding the fire hose.

Shortly after Decker, Dawson, and I took up cover, Preston and Romano put the hose down and began plugging the hydrant again with the large tools they had brought.

Then O’Connor, Randall, and Lambert put down their shields and throw smoke grenades into the hallway where the Hispanics are gathered.

“Carpet One, Two will take the pigeons!”

After the voice of the suppression team leader was heard over the wireless network, their team joined our position.

As they rushed toward the Charlie cell door with the guards, our rescue team stood guard around the perimeter.

Up until now, there have been no prisoners trying to come over here.

Still, my heart is pounding at the thought that they might come at any moment.

“Fire extinguisher closed!”

Romano shouts into the radio, giving us a thumbs up as we stand guard.

I tapped the backs of Team Leader Decker and Team Leader Dawson, who were standing in front of me, and then shouted into the radio.

“Purchasing team, all call signs! Get out! Get out! Get out!”

Then Preston and Romano grab an M32 grenade launcher and a tool bag and run towards the prison cell entrance.

Our rescue team members also watched the rear and took a step back, then quickly turned around and ran.

I was running really hard, wanting to get out of this gladiator arena as soon as possible.

We soon reached a 50-meter section secured by the suppression teams.

The riot squad members stood guard, holding some of the prisoners in their cells.

But as we pass through that section, suddenly a few people whose eyes met mine start banging their shields with one hand.

One or two people seemed to be banging their shields, and soon all the riot team members were nodding to us while banging their shields.

They were sending us their own praise and cheers.

Knock knock knock knock knock knock!

Knock knock knock knock knock knock!

Their cheers for us grew louder and louder, along with the banging of shields, and we continued to run towards the entrance of Prison Cell Charlie, where bright light poured out.

As I continued to walk with hurried steps, a maddening wave of adrenaline continued to surge through my body.

I had an overwhelming feeling that even if a bullet went through my flesh and then came back out, I wouldn’t feel any pain.

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