Hello, Mr. Major General (1)

Chapter 67: Escalation

The rain fell in torrents. The night was dark. Branches swayed in the howling wind.

It was a winding road, enclosed between two mountains; the wind was particularly loud and full of echoes
here. It made him think of a demon lurking in the abyss, revealing its grotesque body with every step.

The junior officer stared uncertainly for a moment, before pulling out his pistol. With his gun in one hand and a
flashlight in the other, he inched towards the figure on the ground.

When he had nearly reached it, he extended a leg and kicked the rifle away swiftly.

Throughout this entire process, the junior officer kept his eyes trained on the man lying on the ground. He was very afraid that the man would suddenly jump up and wrestle him for his gun, plastic bag around his head or not.

Minutes passed. The man did not move.

Rain continued to fall on him, running in winding rivulets down his back.

The junior officer was a little braver now; he tiptoed over to the man, and kicked him.

The man still didn’t move.

The junior officer was finally assured. He knelt, and tried to rip the plastic bag off the man’s head. But try as he might, he couldn’t untie the
ordinary-looking plastic bag.

“The h*ll? It’s just a stupid plastic bag, how’d they tie it so tight?” The junior officer grumbled as he pulled out his
pocket knife. He slashed the plastic bag open.

Just then, a lightning bolt flashed in the sky, followed by a thunderous boom that resounded in his ears.

A face had emerged from the black plastic bag: blood oozed from every facial orifice, and the lifeless eyes were wide and resentful. The sight was made all the more ghastly and
horrific by the intermittent flashes of lightning.

The young officer cried out a second time; he hurriedly backed away, tripping over himself and falling down on his rear in his panic.

“Chief! Chief! We have a situation!”

The officer, young and with only a few years of experience under his belt, quickly got out his phone and attempted to report to his boss.

He tried several times, but couldn’t get through.

He looked at the error message on his phone; f*ck! There was no signal here!

The junior officer looked at the main road leading towards the resort. The rain and wind obscured the entrance. He looked at the direction he had come from; that way, too, was covered in a dense fog.

He hurriedly got up, stamped the mud from his feet, and grabbed the rifle he had kicked away. He ran back to the
police station as fast as he could.

…

Not long after, the superintendent of the police station near Sahyadri Mountain was roused from his sleep by the urgent ringing of his phone.

“What happened?” the superintendent demanded as he hurried into the station. He saw the rifle the junior officer had hauled back from the muddy road. His eyes immediately narrowed. “That’s an American Thunderbolt sniper rifle! Where did you find this?”

“On the road leading towards Sahyadri Mountain Resort Villa.”

There was still fear lurking in the junior officer’s eyes. He shook it off and then looked at the superintendent
admiringly. “Chief, you recognise this gun?!”

He had known that the superintendent was an army veteran, but he had not expected him to be an expert in
firearms.

The superintendent smiled. He gazed at the sniper rifle, a far-away look in his eyes. “I remember those days. I’d
wanted so badly to be the sniper in my squad and so I worked my ass off studying everything there was to know
about these rifles. In end though, someone else surpassed me. I didn’t get the position.”