Chapter 22: Cleansing Shame with Blood

Over the radio, every officer in the Major Crimes Unit understood that the order they had just received was a suicide mission. Yet, to defy orders in the face of battle would mean being stripped of their badges, a disgrace that would make them social pariahs for the rest of their lives.

Lin Tiansheng, Zhang Jinrong, Ma Delong, He Li, and Liu Yida, whether they liked it or not, had to gear up and head into the fray.

Ma, He, and Liu looked visibly terrified, their eyes fixed on Lin. He even asked with a mournful expression, "Brother Sheng, what do we do? Sir Pi is ordering us to join the PTU."

Lin’s expression remained cold and resolute. With swift, decisive movements, he began stripping off his shirt, his actions a clear command: "Suit up. Let’s get to work."

Zhang followed suit, shedding his leather jacket while making sure to tuck his flask into an inner pocket. He glared at the three men and snapped, "Get to work, you shrimps. Do you think you joined the Major Crimes Unit just to play games?"

"If you want to carry a service pistol on your hip, you have to be ready to put your life on the line. Understand?"

Ma knew he had no room to refuse and began to move, following the lead of his superior. He and Liu gritted their teeth, stomped their feet, and followed suit, discarding their coats and boots.

Less than two minutes later, a group of PTU officers arrived, hauling three large waterproof bags. Inside were full sets of PTU gear: tactical vests, bulletproof vests, primary firepower—Colt AR-15 semi-automatic rifles, Federal riot guns, Remington shotguns—as well as gas masks and other equipment.

As a paramilitary unit, the "Pork Chop Vans" (the Mercedes Vario troop carriers, nicknamed for their resemblance to pork chop buns) were stocked with everything from light to heavy weaponry; they had it all.

Lin pulled on his tactical vest and body armor, grabbed a Colt, and asked, "Mate, what’s the situation upstairs?"

The PTU sergeant replied, "Seven gunmen. Two already wounded, five remaining. They have AK-47s, Type 56 pistols, and grenades. They have mainland accents, all male, and have occupied three units on the east side of the eighth floor, setting up crossfire. They should have plenty of ammunition."

"Be careful—two other Colt semi-automatic rifles have been lost to them."

Zhang, having had his drink, was in a foul mood. He buckled his vest and cursed, "Damn it! How do you people work? You just handed your tools of the trade to the enemy?"

The PTU sergeant sneered, his expression indifferent, though he didn't argue back. He thought to himself: *Why bother arguing with the dead?*

While waiting, Lin asked for a floor plan. He studied it intently for a moment, scanned the equipment in his bag, and a complete plan formed in his mind. He issued his orders: "Rong, take the riot shield and the Federal riot gun—it can fire tear gas. Old Ma, take the Remington. Li and Da, take the Colts and load up on grenades. The four of you will form the assault team. Once upstairs, wait for my signal. We’ll storm Room 807 first, secure Point A, take out their crossfire, and then clear the units one by one."

Zhang, Ma, He, and Liu gathered their gear. Zhang took the riot shield, clearly marking him as the point man, but there was no fear on his face—only a hint of anticipation.

Dying on the battlefield was better than rotting away in a laundry room. Wasn't the chance he had waited three years for finally here? A "Double-Flower Red Pole" of the Dongyifu syndicate would wash away three years of humiliation with blood on the battlefield.

He, the youngest, clutched his Colt, his face full of anxiety. He couldn't help but ask, "Brother Sheng, where are you going?"

Zhang turned and glared at him, "Damn it, the boss stays behind to command, of course!"

Unexpectedly, Lin took a breath and said, "I’m going to rappel from the roof, break through the windows, and coordinate with your assault."

Lin’s expression was tight; he was internally nervous as well, for this tactic was incredibly risky. Yet, it was the only way to deliver a decisive blow, and by making his presence known from the bottom up, he ensured that no one could steal the credit for the operation. It was the optimal solution after weighing all sides.

He raised his Citizen watch, his expression stern, and gave the order: "Sync watches."

"Ten-oh-three, twenty-seven."

"Twenty-eight!"

Zhang, Ma, and the others checked their watches. After they finished, a newfound decisiveness appeared in Old Ma’s eyes as he stepped behind Zhang.

As the assault team, their role was the most dangerous. But their team leader, Zhang, was the sworn brother of their boss, and the other three had long since pledged their lives to Sir Lin. Since Sir Lin had finalized the plan, they would follow it to the end.

Selling one's life wasn't just talk. The money had been taken; when the critical moment came, they would go all out.

Besides, Lin’s plan to rappel and breach the window was even more difficult and carried higher risk. As comrades in the same boat, if they had to hate anyone, it should be those foreigners blocking Boundary Street.

The five PTU officers, who had been integrated into the squad, arrived under the command of an inspector. Although the PTU inspector had command authority, he did not veto Lin’s plan.

After all, as long as they provided covering fire, the Major Crimes unit would do the charging. This was much easier than ordering his own PTU men to lead the assault.

The PTU would handle the tactical plan to save face and provide a few men as a formality to avoid criticism later. It seemed this Sir Lin was indeed brave—truly worthy of being someone who dared to defy the "foreign devils."

"Get to work."

Lin no longer hesitated. He led the men up the stairs, greeting the other Major Crimes officers on each floor as they passed. The officers guarding the stairwells had heard the orders over the radio; they guessed these five were a suicide squad and that in a few minutes, they might be nothing more than four corpses carried down on stretchers.

On the seventh floor, Inspector Chen Sheng offered a sloppy salute, his eyes complex. They hadn't known each other long, but as they stood together, they were comrades-in-arms.

Ma and his three men stayed on the eighth floor, waiting behind the PTU officers. Lin, carrying his rappelling gear, climbed to the roof of the twelfth floor. He secured the rope, disengaged the safety on his Colt, gave the rope a tug, braced his legs against the wall, raised his watch, and spoke into the radio: "Old Ma, ten seconds!"

"Ten."

"Nine."

"Eight."

"Seven..."

"GO!"

At the final command, Lin released the rope. With a *whoosh*, the hemp rope sliced through the air. He caught his belt, and his figure landed steadily on the wall by the window.

Lin pulled a grenade, bit the pin, and tossed it through the shattered window.

"BOOM!"

Five seconds later, a violent explosion rocked the room. The two criminals inside crouched, covering their heads as dust and debris flew.

Henry, the foreigner standing downstairs, looked up at the rappelling figure, bewildered: "What?"

"Holy shit! Is that the SDU?"

Pi Zhibang’s eyes widened. The cigarette he had just put to his lips fell to the ground; he looked as if he had seen a ghost.

Uniformed officers, PTU members, and civilians on the street all looked up. Some were shocked, some excited, and the children and women looked on with awe.

If the SDU did it, it was because the SDU was strong. But for one man to pull off a stunt like that? That man was a beast.

PTU Chief Inspector Ding Zehua couldn't help but swallow hard: "He's really going that far?"

In the corridor, the four-man assault team also sprang into action upon receiving the signal, moving forward with guns drawn and bodies hunched.

"Rat-tat-tat, rat-tat-tat."

The PTU officers opened fire, providing suppressing fire on the three rooms where the gunmen kept popping their heads out. The criminals, who had just finished one round of fighting, hadn't expected the police to launch such a fierce assault so quickly.

As one criminal screamed after being hit, another remaining in the room felt his legs go weak and couldn't help but say, "Brother Tai, we can't hold out anymore."

In the innermost room, Guan Guotai pulled the pin on a grenade and shouted, "Damn you, you have to hold out! Being shot on the spot is better than being paraded and executed!"

"They said there's no death penalty in Hong Kong."

"They're lying to you, you idiot! There's a death penalty everywhere in the world, why would Hong Kong be any different?" Guan threw the grenade and shouted, "Go to hell, cops!"

"Grenade!"

Zhang saw the grenade roll out, his pupils constricting. He let out a roar in the hallway. As the point man, his Remington was more of a decoration; he held a large ballistic shield with both hands, responsible only for shielding his comrades from stray fire.

At this moment, running would not only break the assault but would likely lead to casualties. Without hesitation, he turned red, threw the shield to cover the grenade, and threw his entire body on top of it.

"Goddamn you!!!"

"Bang."

A muffled thud echoed as the grenade exploded inside the riot shield. The force sent Zhang, along with his shield and gun, flying toward the ceiling. He crashed into it and fell back to the ground amidst the billowing smoke, vomiting blood.

"Sir Zhang!"

"Brother Rong!"

He Li was so terrified his legs gave way. Looking at Zhang, who had sacrificed himself to protect them, his eyes turned red and his voice choked. Ma, regaining his composure, felt a surge of hot blood rush through him. He shoved He Li and shouted, "GO GO GO! Move!"

He and Liu quickened their pace, following Ma as they charged toward the door of unit 807.

Just as the grenade went off inside, Lin Tiansheng rolled into the room, kneeling and aiming. He swept his gun across the source of the noise: "Rat-tat-tat."

"Rat-tat-tat."

A gunman hiding behind the sofa was killed instantly. Another criminal lunged out from the bathroom, only to be cut down by the gunfire of He and Liu as they entered.