Los Angeles Legendary Sleuth

"Thank you, where are the other policemen? Why is it only you?"

"I'd like to know that myself." Luke shook his head, "Where's the stairwell?"

The black man pointed down the hall, "Keep going to the end, it's on the right-hand side."

"Thank you." Luke said, then found the stairwell and went upstairs.

When he reached the 31st floor, Luke faintly heard some noises and walked to the stairwell entrance to listen carefully, it sounded like someone was talking on a walkie-talkie.

Luke did not rush in immediately; he listened for a while and only heard one person's voice, seemingly a police officer reporting in.

But even so, Luke did not let his guard down.

Luke took a deep breath, held his gun in both hands, and rushed into the hallway, "LAPD! Don't move, get on the ground!"

Upon finishing his words, not far down the corridor, a white man in a Las Vegas police uniform was on the phone.

"LVPD!" the white officer also aimed his gun at Luke, "Don't shoot, I'm a cop too."

Luke sized up the man, "Are you really a cop?"

"That's what I want to ask, you're with the LAPD? Why would you come to Las Vegas?"

"Can't a Los Angeles cop come to Las Vegas for a vacation?" Luke responded sharply, noticing the man was still aiming his gun at him, and scolded, "Put your damn gun down."

"You put yours down first."

"Let's put them down together."

Both men slowly holstered their guns.

The white officer let out a sigh of relief, "Then why are you the first one up here? Where are the other LVPD officers?"

"You're asking the wrong person." Luke said with some dissatisfaction, and counter inquired, "Why, when the gunman on the 32nd floor is shooting, are you here on the 31st floor doing nothing?"

The white officer defended, "I'm not doing nothing, I was reporting in."

"What have you found out?"

The white officer said, "The gunman should be right upstairs; firepower is intense, might be more than one shooter."

Luke pressed, "Have you been up to the 32nd floor?"

"No."

"The shooting has been going on for so long, and you haven't been up there?"

"I checked, the stairwell to the 32nd floor is locked, I can't get through."

"That's a great excuse." Luke shook his head and chuckled, "Do you know the gunmen upstairs already shot hundreds of people?"

"I told you, I've been in contact with the higher-ups, I suspect there's more than one shooter, going up there would be suicide, it wouldn't help."

Luke asked, "How is the communication going? What's the LVPD planning to do?"

"I'm waiting for orders."

"I'm a cop too, don't brush me off with that kind of talk."

"I'm telling you the truth."

"I have a suggestion, based on my observation from downstairs, the shooter should be on the 32nd floor, let's go up together and catch him, how about that?"

"No, I can't go up, I need to keep reporting to the higher-ups and wait for their orders," he said righteously, then added quietly,

"Listen, I know you want to be the hero. But heroism isn't easy, did you hear how intense the gunfire was?

There's definitely more than one shooter, definitely not just one.

If we go up, we'll be shot to pieces, we'd be going up to die."

Luke said, "I've observed from downstairs, it's only one person firing, so far no accomplices have been spotted."

The white officer said, "Just because they haven't been spotted doesn't mean they're not there. We can't take the risk."

"I'll take the lead, you just need to cover me."

"No, the situation is still unclear, we can't be reckless, we should wait for more police support."

At first glance, the white officer's words seemed reasonable, and considering his point of view there was no problem, but fundamentally he was hesitant; coordinating with someone like that was worse than going at it alone. Luke did not want to entrust his back to this kind of person.

As for waiting for more support, technically that was correct, but by the time more LVPD arrived,

an LAPD officer like himself would have no chance to engage, the credit and any possible reward would have nothing to do with him.

If Luke were an ordinary person, he wouldn't even consider going back to the hotel, let alone take risks.

But he's a tough guy, and such a good chance to gain experience, Luke didn't want to miss out.

Besides, Luke wasn't stupid; if the shooter really had other accomplices, and Luke couldn't beat him, with the protection of the Bullet-Proof Card, escaping would still be no problem.

"Take off your bulletproof vest and give it to me," he demanded.

"Why?" The white police officer took a step back.

"Either join me on the 32nd floor or hand me your bulletproof vest."

"Fuck, you're being reckless, you'll get yourself killed," the officer retorted.

"That's why I need the bulletproof vest, don't make me take it by force." Luke advanced toward the white police officer.

Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have done this, because under such tense conditions, an accidental discharge could easily occur.

But Luke had seen through this cop; at heart, he was just a coward, and Luke figured he would give in.

Sure enough, under Luke's pressure, the white police officer relented, "Hey, stop, I'll give it to you."

The white officer, though reluctant, still took off his bulletproof vest and handed it to Luke, "Remember my words, reckless actions will get you killed."

"If your colleagues arrive, tell them there's an LAPD up there. Don't let me shoot them by mistake." Luke put on the bulletproof vest and went straight to the 32nd floor.

Upon reaching the stairwell on the 32nd floor, Luke found the door locked. He peered through the crack but saw no one.

After working with David for so long, Luke learned a few tricks. He kicked fiercely, breaking the stairwell door open with one blow.

Taking a deep breath, he charged into the hallway and began to carefully survey it, finding no sign of anyone.

As he moved forward while staying alert, gunfire continued without pause; Luke surmised the shooter must be on this floor and hadn't fled, although the rate of firing had slowed down significantly.

Following the sound of gunfire, Luke located the shooter's room.

Luke didn't immediately enter, instead, he searched the hallway again to make sure there were no accomplices on the 32nd floor.

Then, standing at the door, he took a deep breath, pulled out a room card, and swiped it to unlock the door, which was also chained from the inside.

No problem.

Luke kicked fiercely again, bursting into the room, "LAPD! Don't move!"

As the door flew open, Luke saw the situation inside: a white man stood on the balcony, spraying gunfire down below.

The man seemed to hear the noise and swiftly turned around, aiming his AR15 and firing at Luke.

However, Luke was quicker on the draw, and he fired his gun, "Bang, bang, bang!"

The shooter was also wearing a bulletproof vest.

The two exchanged shots, and Luke hit his right arm and right leg.

The man hit Luke in the chest.

"Bang!" Luke felt like a hammer had struck his chest, making it hard to breathe.

Luckily, the shooter's right hand was hit, causing the rifle to fall to the ground.

Worried about possible accomplices, Luke didn't dare rush into the room.

"LAPD! Don't move!"

The shooter was an old white man, about the same age as the lieutenant; he smiled at Luke and pulled out a handgun with his left hand.

As Luke was preparing to fire again, he realized the old man's gun wasn't pointed at him, but at his own head.

"Bang!"

The shot blew his head off; the white man lay motionless on the ground, his head blown open, dead beyond doubt.

"Fuck!" Luke cursed, reluctantly.

But he also felt relieved and began searching the hotel's restroom, wardrobes, rooms, and balcony. He found no other shooters.

Luke surveyed the room; there were at least two or three dozen rifles, countless bullets, and several semi-automatic rifles were fitted with bump stocks, making their firepower and rate of fire akin to that of automatic rifles.

From the balcony, Luke looked down to see that most people in the square had dispersed, leaving just a few hundred scattered about.

These people weren't running not because they didn't want to, but because they no longer had the ability to run, all either dead or injured.

At that moment, Luke couldn't help feeling somber, that one man had caused hundreds of casualties.