Post by account_disabled on Dec 20, 2023 3:52:32 GMT
The sheriff had been following them for almost three hours, along the bush that led to the mountain. It wasn't difficult to find their tracks. He had injured one of the two robbers, who was now losing blood, leaving visible drops of red liquid on the ground. The officer who was with him was struggling several meters behind. He was used to the comfortable life in the office, but the sheriff had found no other available officers. That robbery had ended badly, too badly for the sheriff's liking.
Two robbers had already been killed, but also a hostage and two bank employees. Not to mention four officers were injured. And now the last two thugs remained, chased by the last two policemen. One of the Special Data two was the leader of the gang, but he didn't know his name. However, he knew that the other was called Jack and that the two were very close, given the care with which the boss was carrying that dead weight. Jack, the sheriff thought, didn't have much left to live on. Much further ahead, in a tangle of trees and shrubs, the two fugitives had stopped to catch their breath, sitting on the ground against an enormous beech tree. Jack had turned pale, his eyes were closed and he wasn't speaking.
His brother, the leader of that now destroyed gang, drew him to him, caressing his hair. He knew it was over. From there he could hold out for a little longer, but he decided it was best to stop. "It's okay, Jack," he whispered, kissing his brother on the head. Then he put the gun to his temple and shot. The sheriff was about 100 yards away when he heard a gunshot. And then another, right after. He quickened his pace. He found the two men next to each other, in a silent fraternal embrace. All that remained of the gang were lifeless bodies.
Two robbers had already been killed, but also a hostage and two bank employees. Not to mention four officers were injured. And now the last two thugs remained, chased by the last two policemen. One of the Special Data two was the leader of the gang, but he didn't know his name. However, he knew that the other was called Jack and that the two were very close, given the care with which the boss was carrying that dead weight. Jack, the sheriff thought, didn't have much left to live on. Much further ahead, in a tangle of trees and shrubs, the two fugitives had stopped to catch their breath, sitting on the ground against an enormous beech tree. Jack had turned pale, his eyes were closed and he wasn't speaking.
His brother, the leader of that now destroyed gang, drew him to him, caressing his hair. He knew it was over. From there he could hold out for a little longer, but he decided it was best to stop. "It's okay, Jack," he whispered, kissing his brother on the head. Then he put the gun to his temple and shot. The sheriff was about 100 yards away when he heard a gunshot. And then another, right after. He quickened his pace. He found the two men next to each other, in a silent fraternal embrace. All that remained of the gang were lifeless bodies.