55: Chapter 55 Hearings and Deadly Ambush

Wednesday morning, Los Angeles City Hall.

Alex's testimony at the hearing took only twenty minutes. He did not get bogged down in the minutiae of data; instead, he focused on the core argument: when legal accountability channels are blocked, safety standards lose their most important external oversight. He supported his point with three carefully selected sets of data, and every time an opponent tried to counter with technical details, he steered the topic back to this issue of principle.

The strategy worked. By the time the hearing concluded, two city council members had explicitly stated that they "needed to re-evaluate the impact of the bill," and three reporters had scheduled exclusive interviews.

But the price of victory was an escalation of the threat.

As they walked out of the hearing room, the tingling of his Spider-Sense shifted from a low morning hum to a clear alarm. Hank immediately noticed the slight hesitation in his body: "Feel it?"

"It's strong," Alex whispered. "More than one group."

Hank pressed his communicator: "All units, alert. Threat level red. Execute Evacuation Plan Three."

Plan Three—do not take the pre-planned route, do not take the pre-planned vehicles, break up into smaller units, and evacuate separately.

Alex quickly changed his jacket and hat in the restroom and left City Hall through the staff passage. Hank and two team members escorted him in a triangular formation, all of them armed—Hank and the team members had pistols and concealed rifles, while Alex's Glock 43 was in a holster behind his waist. Their California concealed carry permits allowed them to carry weapons in most situations.

"The car is three blocks away," Hank said. "It's a standard Toyota, no bulletproof modifications, but its advantage is that it's inconspicuous."

They blended into the midday crowd and walked quickly toward the parking lot. The tingling of his Spider-Sense continued to intensify, directionless—the threat was coming from multiple directions.

"Hank, they have a sniper," Alex said, stopping abruptly. "At eleven o'clock, that gray office building, fourth or fifth floor."

This was the limit of his Spider-Sense (Beginner): a vague direction, an approximate height, but no precise window location.

Hank did not question him and immediately ordered: "Team A, lock onto the windows from the fourth to the sixth floor of the gray office building. Team B, establish a perimeter at the intersection ahead. We are changing routes; we'll take the underground passage."

The team turned and entered the subway station entrance. But just as they were walking down the stairs, the tingling of his Spider-Sense turned into a shock-like warning—

"There's someone below!"

Before he could finish, four people rushed out from around the corner of the stairs. They were not plainclothes officers; they were professional gunmen wearing tactical vests and holding MP5 submachine guns. On the streets of Los Angeles, in broad daylight, fully automatic weapons.

Hank's reaction was astonishingly fast. Almost the moment the opponents appeared, he had already drawn his weapon and fired—not a pistol, but a short-barreled rifle pulled from under his suit. The first bullet hit the lead gunman's bulletproof vest, and the impact made him stagger backward.

"Fall back! Find cover!"

Alex was pulled back to the top of the stairs by one team member, while another team member provided covering fire from the flank. Gunshots exploded at the subway entrance, and the crowd screamed and scattered.

The knowledge of Precision Shooting (Beginner) automatically activated in his mind. Alex drew his Glock 43 and crouched behind a ticket machine. He did not fire rashly—the opponents had bulletproof vests and automatic weapons, and a pistol would struggle to cause effective damage. But he could use suppressive fire to create an opportunity for Hank.

He aimed at the metal support of the stair railing and fired a shot. The sparks and noise from the bullet impact successfully caused the gunmen below to hesitate for a moment. In that half-second window, Hank threw a flashbang.

The sound of the explosion and the blinding light filled the stairwell. Hank and the team members seized the opportunity to retreat to Alex's side.

"There are six of them, four below, and two more will come around to flank us from above soon," Hank said, his breathing steady, his tactical expertise fully on display. "We can't fight urban warfare here. Break out and steal a car."

"Follow me," Alex said. Environmental Perception Enhancement allowed him to hear the locking mechanism of the maintenance passage door behind the subway station. "There's a staff passage over there that leads directly to the surface parking lot."

The three of them moved quickly. Hank brought up the rear, using precise bursts of fire to repel the pursuers. Alex ran in front, his Parkour Mastery allowing him to quickly vault over obstacles and anticipate the path.

The maintenance passage door was locked. Alex didn't waste time picking the lock—he stepped back two paces and kicked the lock area with full force. With the explosive power of Comprehensive Physical Enhancement (Stage 2), the door frame cracked, and the door swung open.

Outside was an open-air parking lot. The ordinary Toyota Hank had mentioned was thirty meters away.

But waiting for them in the parking lot was a second wave of the ambush.

Two cars suddenly started, windows rolled down, and gun barrels poked out.

"Find cover!"

The three of them rolled behind an SUV. Bullets struck the car body, and the bulletproof glass developed spiderweb-like cracks—the opponents' weapons could penetrate ordinary vehicles.

Alex's heart was pounding like a drum, but his mind was exceptionally clear. His Spider-Sense was frantically warning him of the trajectory of every bullet, his Dynamic Vision allowed him to see the flight paths, and his Crisis Prediction let him know which area the next wave of firepower would cover.

This was not training. This was a real gunfight, and people would die.

"Hank, that silver sedan on the left," Alex said, panting. "In the driver's seat, I can see his face—he's waiting for orders and isn't firing continuously. It might be the command vehicle."

Hank took a look through the gap under the car: "Agreed. But how do we deal with it? Our pistols can't penetrate the car body."

Alex looked toward the fire hydrant at the parking lot exit: "That car is five meters from the fire hydrant. If I hit the fire hydrant..."

"The water pressure won't be enough to cause damage."

"It's not about the water pressure," Alex thought quickly. "If the fire hydrant is hit, it will spray water, obscuring their line of sight. At the same time, the water will pool under the wheels. If that car tries to move..."

Hank understood: "Create chaos, then we steal a car and break out. Alright, I'll cover you."

Hank and the team member fired from both sides simultaneously, suppressing the enemy's firepower. Alex took a deep breath, leaned out from behind the SUV, and raised his gun to aim—

At a distance of fifty meters, shooting a moving target (even though the car hadn't moved yet) with a pistol was extremely difficult. But Precision Shooting (Beginner) made his arm exceptionally steady, and Dynamic Vision allowed the distant fire hydrant to be clearly magnified in his field of vision.

He pulled the trigger.

The first shot hit the base of the fire hydrant, sending sparks flying.

The second shot adjusted the angle.

The third shot hit the valve core.

A high-pressure jet of water shot into the air, instantly enveloping the silver sedan in a curtain of water. The driver instinctively turned the steering wheel to move, but the water pooling under the wheels caused the vehicle to skid.

"Now!"

The three of them rushed toward the Toyota. Hank fired as he ran, accurately hitting the tires of the silver sedan. The team member pulled open the Toyota's door, and Alex jumped into the driver's seat—the keys were in the car.

The engine roared. The moment Hank and the team member got into the car, Alex slammed on the accelerator, and the vehicle shot out of the parking lot. Bullets followed from behind, but they lost their accuracy.

"Shake them!" Hank said, looking at the rearview mirror. "Get on the highway and head north."

Alex gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white from the effort. The tingling of his Spider-Sense began to subside—they were temporarily out of the danger zone.

"What about Mike?" he asked, remembering the other team member.

"He's safe, he evacuated separately according to the plan," Hank said, checking his weapon. "But Alex... this time is different. MP5 submachine guns, tactical vests, an ambush in the city center in broad daylight—this is a military-grade operation. Winston has become desperate."

The vehicle sped onto the highway. Alex finally had a chance to check himself—his suit was torn, his arm had grazes, but Rapid Healing was already taking effect, and a tingling, itchy sensation came from the wounds.

"Why are they in such a rush?" he asked. "Just because I performed well at the hearing today?"

"It's not just the hearing," Hank said, pulling up his phone. "Take a look at this."

On the screen was a message sent by the Night Watcher ten minutes ago:

"Emergency: Internal news from Northrop, a copy of the full test report on the NT-7 material defect has been anonymously sent to The New York Times and The Washington Post. The sender is unknown, but the report has your father's signature and annotations from back then. The media will report on it by tomorrow at the latest."

Alex's pupils constricted.

So that was it. Someone had leaked the key evidence. And Winston and Northrop believed he was the one who did it—or at least, they believed he was involved.

That was why today's ambush wasn't intimidation; it was an attempt to silence him.

"Where are we going now?" he asked.

"We can't go back to any known safe house," Hank said. "I have a place—in the San Fernando Valley, it's a shooting range and training base belonging to a retired comrade of mine. It has walls, surveillance, and enough weapons and ammunition."

"Weapons?"

Hank looked at him: "Alex, the war has already begun. Today they used submachine guns to ambush us on the street; next time they might use sniper rifles, bombs, or any other means. We must upgrade our response."

Alex looked silently at the road ahead. Sunlight shone through the windshield onto his face, which still carried a youthful look but had already become as cold and hard as iron.

He had exchanged for so many combat skills, thinking they were just for self-defense.

Now it seemed, they were for survival.