Chapter 178 Detective Ryan
Liam suddenly ducked—instinct, reflex, and something more. A sharp crack rang through the dim room as a bullet screamed past where his head had been, punching a hole clean through the plaster wall. Dust scattered into the air, and for a brief second, silence followed. If he had moved a second later, his brains would’ve been splattered across the precinct wall.
He twisted his head, eyes narrowing behind the mask. Four—no, three officers at the far end of the corridor, hunkered behind whatever cover they could find. They were shouting into their walkie-talkies, voices tense and clipped.
"Target spotted! East wing! Repeat—he’s in the east wing!"
Liam gritted his teeth. He couldn’t stay still—not here. They’d box him in and make this whole night for nothing. So he moved.
Bullets cut through the air as he launched himself forward, boots skimming across the tiled floor. He dove low, sliding on one knee, barely avoiding a shot that grazed the top of his shoulder. It singed his jacket but missed flesh.
As he approached the first officer, he twisted, caught the man’s gun mid-air with one hand, yanked it free, and smashed the butt of the rifle directly into the man’s face. The crunch of bone followed. Blood sprayed. The man crumpled.
Liam pivoted, spinning on one heel to face the second officer, who’d only just registered what happened. Too late. Liam already had the gun in both hands. With brutal force, he drove the weapon into the cop’s mouth, breaking teeth with a wet crunch. The man screamed, fell, rolled on the ground in agony.
The third cop opened fire wildly, each shot echoing through the hallway like thunder. But Liam was gone. The muzzle flashes revealed nothing but empty air. He blinked in confusion.
Then—wind.
A breeze.
The officer turned in time to see a masked face rise behind him like a ghost from hell. The intruder waved, mockingly, and before the cop could even breathe a word, a blunt strike caught him on the temple. He dropped like a puppet with its strings cut.