25: The suspect's convoy has broken through!

Three civilian helicopters belonging to the San Francisco Police Department flew in a V-formation.

Giant searchlight beams, like the eyes of a god, began sweeping back and forth across the roof and windows of the Citibank building.

"Excellent! Air support is here!"

"Don't let them hide anywhere! Drag them out for me!"

In the temporary command post, the police officers who saw this scene burst into cheers.

Chief Ethan's strained nerves also relaxed slightly.

The ground forces were suppressed by the enemy's heavy firepower and couldn't raise their heads, but air units were different.

As long as they could lock onto the enemy's position, the snipers could be effective!

However, before he finished his thought.

"Report, Boss, there are three flies. Do they need to be cleaned up?"

On the rooftop of a building opposite Citibank, Daniel raised his night-vision binoculars, a cold curve appearing at the corner of his mouth.

His voice was clearly transmitted through the tactical headset to the ears of every Observation Team member.

"Clean them up."

An equally cold response came through the headset.

"Received."

Daniel put down the binoculars and issued a concise and clear order.

"'Patriot' ready."

"Target locked."

"Fire!"

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Unassuming flashes of fire, dragging faint trails, shot up into the sky from three different corners of the rooftop.

Moving too fast for the naked eye to track, they shot accurately toward the three still-hovering helicopters.

"What is that?"

A sharp-eyed FBI Agent had just let out a cry of alarm.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Three massive fireballs exploded consecutively in mid-air!

One of the helicopters was precisely hit by a missile on its tail rotor, instantly losing control.

It turned into a giant, burning iron top, spinning as it smashed into a commercial building on the ground.

A violent explosion occurred again, sending flames and thick smoke soaring into the sky.

The other two fared even worse, disintegrating directly in the air.

Countless burning fragments rained down like a deadly meteor shower, igniting several cars parked by the roadside.

The entire street became a sea of fire.

"Oh my God..."

In the temporary command post, the officers who had just been cheering were now completely stunned.

Every single one of them had their mouths agape, eyes wide as if they might pop out, their expressions showing pure, undisguised terror.

"Anti-aircraft missiles?"

A young officer's voice trembled, and he was on the verge of tears.

"They brought goddamn anti-aircraft missiles to rob a bank?!"

"They're crazy! These people are completely insane!"

Chief Ethan stared intently at the three falling flames, his knuckles white as he clenched his fists, veins bulging on the back of his hands.

His chest heaved violently, his eyes were bloodshot, and an uncontrollable fury mixed with helplessness.

It was nearly enough to burn away his sanity.

The National Guard?

No! They need the goddamn military here!

Inside the vault of Citibank.

Alberto blew on the faint smoke rising from the muzzle of his P226 Pistol, not even glancing at Richard, the Bank Manager, who lay in a pool of blood at his feet.

The last few security personnel who had been forced to move the money bags were also swiftly dealt with by his subordinates.

Inside the vault, besides their own people, there were no survivors.

"Take inventory."

Alberto said to his subordinate, Ethan.

Ethan, holding a tablet computer, quickly verified the manifest and the transfer records.

"Boss, we loaded six vans in total, all cash. Preliminary estimates put the amount at over a billion US dollars."

"We also took a small amount of gems and diamond rings. As for the gold... according to the plan, we didn't touch a single bar."

Alberto nodded in satisfaction.

Gold was too heavy and too big of a target, hindering a quick withdrawal.

The Boss's goal was clear from the start.

Only cash.

"Very good."

Alberto glanced at his watch.

"Time's almost up."

He pressed the talk button on his tactical headset.

"Daniel, we are ready to withdraw."

"Received."

Through his night-vision device, Daniel clearly saw Alberto and his group streaming out of the bank's side door.

They quickly boarded several unremarkable vans.

"All teams, attention, retreat according to plan! Suppression Team, clear the path for the convoy!"

"Received!"

A black ford bronco SUV, like a wild beast unleashed.

It suddenly burst out of a dark alley, crashing directly into the roadblock hastily set up by the police.

"Open fire! Stop them!"

The surviving police officers and FBI Agents mustered their courage, poked their heads out from behind cover, and fired frantically with the rifles and pistols in their hands.

Clang, clang, clang!

The bullets hitting the heavy armor of the ford bronco were useless, only sparking bursts of fire.

A window rolled down, and the dark barrel of an RPG Launcher extended out.

Boom!

A police car was hit directly and blown to pieces.

Immediately afterward, the sunroof opened, and an m2 heavy machine gun was mounted, spitting out destructive tongues of fire.

Rat-a-tat-a-tat!

12.7mm bullets, carrying the power to tear through anything, swept across the entire block.

Police cars were riddled with holes, concrete barriers were shattered, and the officers hiding behind them were struck, sending flesh and blood flying.

Faced with absolute firepower suppression, the so-called elite police and FBI Agents were as fragile as paper tigers.

In less than three minutes.

The encirclement, consisting of over thirty police cars and nearly a hundred officers, was forcibly ripped open, leaving a massive gap.

The ford bronco and the vans behind it sped up without hesitation, instantly vanishing into the city night.

On the ruined street, an officer shot in the thigh leaned against the wreckage of a burning police car, picked up his walkie-talkie, and yelled with all his might.

"Cough! Headquarters! The suspect convoy has broken through! They fled toward Montgomery Street! Requesting..."

Before he could finish his sentence, he passed out from excessive blood loss.

Ten minutes later, in an abandoned warehouse district on the outskirts of the city.

The vans and the fierce ford bronco silently drove into one of the warehouses, and the roller door quickly dropped.

After the occupants got out of the vehicles, they quickly changed into ordinary clothes that had been prepared beforehand.

They then boarded several different used sedans and dispersed from another exit of the warehouse, blending into the vast traffic flow.

The entire process was smooth and seamless, without a single wasted movement.

Meanwhile, the vans loaded with US dollars, led by Ethan.

Continued driving for half an hour, finally arriving at another, more remote industrial warehouse.

The warehouse was brightly lit.

A young man dressed in casual clothes, with delicate features, was sitting leisurely on a chair, drinking a cup of hot coffee.

It was David.

"Boss."

Alberto quickly walked up to David and bowed slightly.

"The money, it's all back."

David put down his coffee cup, stood up, and walked over to the vans.

The doors opened, revealing mountains of money bags inside.

He reached out and gently placed his hand on one of the money bags.

The next second, something miraculous happened.

The bulging money bag visibly deflated at a speed noticeable to the naked eye.

Meanwhile, on a virtual panel only he could see in David's mind, numbers began flashing wildly.

He touched the money bags one after another.

When the last money bag turned into empty canvas, the number on the panel in his mind.

Finally settled on the astonishing figure of "1.6 billion."

A faint smile finally appeared on David's face.

He turned around and instructed Alberto and Ethan.

"Dispose of all these empty bags and vehicles. Don't leave any trace."

"Everyone, evacuate according to the original plan."

"Yes, Boss!"

Everyone responded in unison and immediately sprang into action.

A few minutes later, the entire warehouse fell back into darkness and silence, leaving only a faint smell of gasoline lingering in the air.