The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 229

"Someone needs to go in to draw attention and create a window for the sniper. I'll go." Rhys said.

Before anyone else could react, Rhys turned off his comms, took off his helmet, and discarded his shield. He raised his hands high and stood up from behind cover, walking down step by step.

"Leave the girl alone."

Rhys's voice was steady. "Holding a student hostage is useless. Take me instead. I'm more valuable."

The bald man froze, then screamed, "Do you think I'm stupid? All cops deserve to die!"

"Look at this uniform. Special Police Tactical Unit," Rhys slowly bent down and placed his gun on the ground. "If you grab me, the people outside will be more nervous and won't dare to shoot. You'll have a better bargaining chip to demand a helicopter and an escape route. Killing a student will only make you die faster."

The hostage, crying to the point of fainting, looked desperately at the policeman who had suddenly appeared.

Rhys glanced at her and smiled. "Don't be afraid."

He looked back at the bald man. "That homemade explosive in your hand has limited power. At most, it'll bring down this wall. It won't kill everyone, and you still won't escape. Why not gamble on something bigger?"

The bald man's eyes wavered. This man looked like someone important. Trading a special ops officer for a female student... it was worth considering. The muzzle moved from the girl's head to point at Rhys. "Kick that gun over here! Hurry up! Or I'll shoot her!"

Rhys complied, kicking his weapon so it slid far across the floor. He took a few more steps forward, spreading his hands. "Trade me."

Seeing Rhys approach with such nonchalance, the bald man suddenly panicked again and fired a shot at the ground near Rhys's feet. "I didn't say come closer! Stand right there!"

In that split second, the glint of a sniper scope flashed in the distance.

Even in unconsciousness, his hands maintained the posture of bracing against the ground, holding up a space of survival for the girl beneath him. Several men had to pry his fingers open to lift him onto the stretcher.

Inside the ambulance, the heart monitor wailed with a frantic, shrill rhythm. The green trace on the screen nearly flatlined several times, flickering at the edge of death before gasping back to life.

As the sirens screamed, Rhys's consciousness was swallowed by an endless, crushing darkness.

Rhys had a dream.

There was no explosion, no blood, and no blizzard.

In the dream, the sunlight was beautiful. It was the most beautiful April day at Ashton University, with cherry blossom petals covering the ground.