The leader's fate was imagined by a shotgun with a mortality rate of 100%. Under the push of the projectile, the leader flew backwards and hit the wall behind him heavily.

As the leader sprayed blood on the hood, leaving a long blood mark on the snow-white wall, he collapsed to the ground, his head tilted and he no longer breathed.

After killing the leader, Luo Hao pointed the pistol in his left hand at the militants in front of his left.

"Sure! Sure!"

Two gunshots, two bullets drilled into the left chest of the militant from the same bullet hole.

doubletap!

The heart, which was attacked by two bullets in a short period of time, was completely destroyed. The militants who had lost their heart function stared wide and fell to the ground, with blood gushing between their mouths and noses, enjoying the last few seconds of their life.

When attacking with a pistol, Luo Hao held the socket of the shotgun, swung the gun, and completed the process of retracting the shell and loading the shell.

"Bang!", "Sure!"

The surgical push bed slid forward, and the pistols and shotguns fired alternately, killing the militants stuck in the corridor and fleeing everywhere. However, in such a narrow space in the corridor, there was no suitable cover for those militants to cover them, so these militants were destined to be the dead souls under Luo Hao's gun.

When Luo Hao squatted on the push bed and slid out of the operating room, Zhou Bai, Situ Kong and others followed him and rushed out of the operating room. The five men attacked the formation in a tactical way, protecting Carlos, who was carrying Fang Hongyu, in the middle of the team.

When the surgical push bed was sliding to the end of the corridor, Luo Hao jumped up from the push bed, and when he was jumping in the air, he used the last bullet in the shotgun to shoot the militants beside him in the head. After landing, Luo Hao smashed the Remington m870 shotgun in his hand, which had turned into a "fire stick" and hit the head of the militants who were holding up the MP5 submachine gun at him.

"Bang!"

With Luo Hao's tapping action, the butt stock of the Remington m870 shotgun in his hand was broken into two pieces on the spot. The militant who was knocked by the butt stock was even more knocked out of blood and fell to the ground.

The empty surgical push bed continued to slide forward, and a militant who was facing the push bed crashed into the wall at the end of the corridor. As the other party's mouthful of blood was spurted out, life and death were unknown.

Luo Hao, who was standing at the end of the corridor, had a cold face as cold as a thousand-year-old black ice. He threw away the shotgun with a broken half of the butt in his hand, pulled out the Glock 17 pistol, held it in his right hand, and shouted at the brother who was following him: "This is the side!"

The group retreated down from the stairs where the militants were few.

The tactical group B, which protected Fang Hongyu to retreat to the hospital along the way, kept shooting at the influx of militants. Although their attacks suppressed the charge of those militants in a short period of time, it also aroused the fierceness of those people and the attack became even more fierce.

The entire Tactic Group B, including Carlos and Fang Hongyu, were all trapped behind the medical guide station. Although there was a medical guide station around as a temporary cover, several people surrounded Carlos and Fang Hongyu with their bodies. Except for Carlos and Fang Hongyu who were protected by six people in the team center, almost everyone in the six people in Tactic Group B was left with stray bullets, which were neither deep nor shallow, and although not fatal, it could also make people grin and grin.

"Kill them!"

Looking at the eight people who were already in desperate situation, bursts of roars broke out among the fierce militants.

"Catch them alive!" A black man with a braided head, wearing printed short-sleeved sleeves, washed a little white camouflage pants, raised the shotgun in his hand, suppressed the sounds around him, and shouted loudly: "Catch them alive, we can get more bounties!"

"Catch them alive!"

"Catch them alive!"

...

The militants holding the AK automatic rifle, shotgun, and MP5 submachine gun slowly moved closer to the medical guide table in the middle of the lobby on the ground floor.

Listening to the mixed footsteps around, Luo Hao took out the ring that Yun Xi gave him before departure, and his murderous eyes showed tenderness. He put away the ring and looked at the people around him, saying, "Brothers, when they get closer, we will be ready to fight out. What else do you think?"

"If we die, I hope it will attract the attention of the family. Don't let us die in vain." Zhou Bai replaced a magazine for the ak-47 in his hand, which was the last spare magazine left on him.

Zhou Bai, who was born in a military family, was never afraid of his death in the battlefield one day in the future. He once believed that the ultimate fate of a soldier was to wrap his body in the horse's corpse.

"It will definitely happen." Lin Xiaoyang patted Zhou Bai's shoulder and said, "If we make such a big noise in Brazil this time, the man's wife will definitely get the news, and she will definitely pass the news back to the dragon's den."

"Bai, maybe we will meet soon!" Lin Xiaoyang pinched the golden eagle badge on his chest and said in his heart.

"Carlos, we have implicated you this time." Luo Hao looked at Carlos apologetically and said. If it weren't for people like him, he should be driving his air-free taxi and humming a song on the road.

"Hey buddy, really, I don't regret knowing you." Carlos grinned at Luo Hao and said, "Really, it's so exciting to follow you."

Luo Hao turned his head and replaced the spare magazines for the two pistols in his hand. After silently calculating the distance between the militants and himself. When he just counted down to "" in his heart, two deafening grenade explosions suddenly came from the entrance of the hall.

"boom--!"

"boom--!"

Two steel bead grenades bombed the militants in the lobby on the ground floor to flee everywhere. Then the roar of the engines of several heavy locomotives, from far to near.

"squeak--!"

The motorcycle tires rubbed against the ground and made a sharp and harsh sound. The black helmet sitting on the motorcycle was wearing black clothes, black pants and black helmets, and the cool figure was so cool that it was all over. They held an mp5 submachine gun in their hands, and started work left and right, and shot wildly at the militants in the hall who had not yet come back to their senses from the grenade explosion.

The figure closest to the doctor guide desk lifted the windshield on his helmet, shouted at the tactical group B squatting inside the doctor guide desk, "Is there any living?! Let me make a sound if you can breathe!"

"Boss is here!" Carlos's face suddenly showed a strong look of joy when he heard the evergreen sound on the motorcycle.
Chapter completed!