Miss Beautiful C.E.O and her system

A moment after the pre-detonation—or so everyone thought—small figures sprang out of the Airbus door.

Two well-equipped figures, clad in green camouflage with vests and helmets, stood atop the airstair, their rifles aimed at the second terrorist group.

Fire burst from their muzzles. The RPG holder was gunned down, and the second unfortunate terrorist near him was also neutralized.

The terrorist group was shocked by the sudden turn of events, losing two members in the shortest exchange.

They reacted quickly, seeking cover and attempting to return fire once they established their positions.

Lin Fan, observing the fight from afar, frowned. FBI agents and veterans were also watching the battle, their expressions equally grim.

Ordinary spectators were merely relieved that another force was engaging the terrorists, but experts saw more.

The manner and speed in which the terrorists reacted to gunfire showcased their competence—almost at the level of special-tier operators.

Of course, what added to the shock was that the new force had immediately suppressed the terrorists' arrogance with just two people.

Another figure emerged from the doorway and dashed down the airstair before propping up the bipods of their weapon on a baggage chariot and lighting up the terrorists' position.

Rounds zipped across the field, forcing the terrorists to cower behind cover. The figure fought rhythmically, as if there was an art to wielding a solo machine gun.

With accurate shots from the snipers on the airstair, the second terrorist attack was impeded.

Soon, more figures poured out of the aircraft, splitting into two formations. One moved toward the airport terminal, while the other advanced to assault the suppressed enemies.

Seeing his companions frown, Lin Fan reassured them: "An enemy of my enemy is my friend. Relax. There's no point in overthinking. Just wish they are backing us. We've got our own work to do."

The rest nodded and returned to their tasks, apparently agreeing with his words. By now, most had misunderstood the passengers inside the Airbus, believing them to be the main goal behind the attack by the terrorists.

The terrorists' target had been the aircraft all along. Even Lin Fan saw no flaw in this reasoning, especially after witnessing how well-trained and well-equipped the A380's guards were.

He didn't dwell on it, watching more terrorists fall while the remaining ones maneuvered to retreat.

However, he managed to get a clearer look at the formation heading toward the terminal—high-grade military equipment, FN SCAR-SC and SCAR-TPR, carbine and DMR roles respectively, for obvious reasons.

One used 5.56, while the other utilized 7.62 for power and range.

Yet, these weren't what bothered Lin Fan the most. As he trailed behind the airport security, something about their ballistic visors seemed oddly familiar, triggering a sense of déjà vu.

Yes—visors on the helmets! Spirit Fox wore them. He still had PTSD from the robbery and the last time an operator had thoroughly humiliated him in front of Lan Xi.

Lin Fan shook his head with a wry smile. He must have been hallucinating, matching the formation outside with Spirit Fox.

This was Country E—more than 18 hours away. He must have carried some strange habits from home.

"Miss, just stay safe, don't roam around. In the worst case, the original plan won't change. Hide in the aircraft. It's the safest and has the highest probability of survival."

The stewardess acknowledge his advise and sauntered away to fulfill her responsibility.

While FBI agents and veterans from both nations took responsibility for blocking the terrorists' escape routes, Lin Fan and an ex-Marine Recon rushed toward the sound of automatic gunfire.

They soon arrived at the scene of a man blindly defending himself with a pistol, poking out and firing. Lin Fan grabbed the man's shoulder, signaling him to fall back.

"Go and help the others in the back and rearmed yourselves," said Lin Fan. He gestured at the two partners behind—Marine Recon and fellow security guard who he robbed a handgun—and positioned himself after receiving a positive response.

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Bang! Bang!

Lin Fan peeked from the corner and opened fire, forcing the approaching pair of terrorists to retreat.

The round he fired before leaning back struck one of the enemies in the calf. A scream echoed, confirming the sudden pain.

Lin Fan was about to pursue this brief victory, but eerie whooshes and debris rocking near his cover kept him pinned down.

Another quick peek when the firefight paused—and Lin Fan barely caught a glimpse of a shadow dragging a wounded man away to the T-shape corner.

"One down, wounded," Lin Fan informed and beckoned the two to advance. There were screams ahead, mixed between genders and ages. Some survivors needed care.

Lin Fan kept his forward sight on the corner where the two terrorists were. He covered the pair who marched along his line of sight.

The ex-Marine pied carefully, exposing only a minimal portion of his posture. Lin Fan retracted his rifle and followed behind in a high-ready position, staying vigilant both at the rear and front since there was another hallway.

The Marine fired and instantly ducked back to dodge the incoming bullets. The trails and aftermath were clearly visible from the damages on the wall.

He fought for the corner and stabilized himself by firing in rhythmic shots. The airport security officer knelt and stretched his AK forward, firing from the Marine's waist. Two guns were always better than one.

"Dead?" Lin Fan asked.

"Negative, they fell back," the Marine responded.

Lin Fan didn't say much because the terrorists themselves seemed to be masters in battlefield tactics and CQB. He had noticed this since his first contact with them just moments ago. It was his skill and advantageous position at the corner that allowed Lin Fan to hit one in the calf.

He couldn't capitalize on the victory. But around that turn should be a hallway, and if the Marine controlled it, the terrorists should have retreated far.

"Still two, correct? Both of them ran away?"

"Yes."

Lin Fan glowered at the Marine, suppressing his impatience. How? One injured—an extra burden—still managed to escape with his partner?

When he saw the black policeman twitching with nervousness, Lin Fan controlled his emotions and patted the latter's shoulder.

"My man, take a deep breath. One, two… Breathe… Come on… Once again. One. Two… Breathe," Lin Fan calmed his fragile teammate. "You're doing fine. Don't overthink it."

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Footsteps echoed from behind. Two officers—one of whom had returned after being sent away by Lin Fan.

The latter acknowledged the officer's courage. It wasn't easy to head straight into battle after experiencing its dangers firsthand.

This guy had almost died when the two terrorists advanced—if not for Lin Fan's team's intervention.

"Alright, I want you three to lock down this hallway. Remember, don't pursue them," Lin Fan instructed the three officers.

The trio nodded and set up their positions, aiming their AKs.

"Hey, Marine, on me." Lin Fan squeezed the big man's arm.

"The name's John."

Lin Fan shrugged: "Okay, John, Officers have this hallway. We push forward."

Lin Fan led John into another hallway. The duo pointed their rifles in a crossed-coverage style, stepping over bodies and blood. They ignored the agonized groans and pleas for help as they continued clearing ahead.