He quietly sat there, smoking a cigarette, with a glass of wine placed in front of him.
Never before had he felt so strongly that he wished a gang, which was in fact a threat to him, could win a sweeping victory!
The night was destined to leave many sleepless, the police station's phones were ringing off the hook, yet the gunfire still hadn't ceased.
Ted had already burst out from the bus, leaning against a flower bed only a meter high, and was constantly exchanging gunfire with the enemies on and around it.
There were still some riflemen on the rooftop reaping lives on the "battlefield," combined with being surrounded by even more people, Ted had a kind of sudden realization.
He turned his head to look; the people he brought were hiding behind the car, behind those flower beds, still fiercely exchanging fire.
In a flash, everything around fell silent in his ears, leaving only the sound of his heavy breathing and heartbeat.
