On a high-rise building behind the Capitol Building, people covered in camouflage cloth wrapped around the young man's silhouette in circles with their sights as he drifted away in the darkness.
Hi Theo, it's time to meet again, "his fingers tightened the trigger.
The little fox has finally grown up and didn't give me a chance to shoot, "he said with a self deprecating smile on his lips.
Bang! "He said softly, and then one person giggled out loud. He turned over and lay flat on the rooftop, took out a flat tin can from his arms, and slowly poured the strong liquor inside into his mouth.
Mtskheta, Kura Binhe District.
Rainy night.
In the dilapidated gray buildings, there are pink and purple neon lights flashing, and the picture shows a pig holding a wine bottle curled up in the corner, drunk. The sign reads "Shake Happy Pig" in English. The guest walked into the bar against the cold wind and rain, enveloped in a huge black windbreaker, wearing a trendy black felt hat, and smoking a cigar.
Sir, how many people are there? Do you want a smoking seat? "The waiter came up to pick up his coat and squinted his flexible big eyes." Do you want to talk to a young and lively girl
I'm here to find someone, "the guest glanced at the waiter from under the brim of his hat," give him this
The waiter stared blankly at the guest, his silver gray eyes as cold and hard as the snowy plains of Siberia, and as savage as animals. Before he could react, the guest took out a delicate steel knife and cut the burning cigar head into his palm. Immediately, the guest grabbed his hand and refused to let go.
The sudden pain made the waiter's face spasm. "Let go, my goodness, let go
Don't move, don't move, "the guest chuckled slightly." The pain will only intensify because of your reckless actions
He let go of his hand, and the waiter vigorously shook off the cigarette butt in his hand, which had already gone out. He licked his injured palm and looked at the guest in fear.
Look, with just a little patience, it will go out and your pain will end, "the guest said casually." Go tell him I'm here
Crossing several rows of wine cabinets, the waiter gestured to the guest and stopped following up.
The guest pushed open the door of a small room. This place is hidden and crowded, with some miscellaneous items piled up. The lighting is not good, and the noise of the bar is separated by a wall. A bottle of strong vodka was placed on the rudimentary table, and it had already bottomed out. The young man who was drinking was lying on the table, wearing a blue grey duckbill cap, shaking the vodka glass in his hand, and not getting up to say hello.
You didn't shoot, why didn't you kill the hunting dog fox? "The cigar smoking guest grabbed an unclean cup from the table, emptied the bottle, and took a sip.
Did you mean to kill him, or did it come directly from the organization
I have the power to make decisions here
For me, you haven't, "the young man extended a finger and shook it.
The cigar smoker remained silent and exhaled large amounts of blue smoke.
The young man changed to a more comfortable position and leaned back in the chair, his eyes hazy. 'He is different from Juster and Heins. Among L.M.A.'s agents, the Hound Fox is one of the few elites left, but this fox is still too young to be their reliance. For us, the Hound Fox still has value in utilization.'. "
The cigar smoker gave a cold laugh and said, "Is that your reason? Don't you want to be honest and say that you didn't want to kill him because you had the same blood in your veins as him
That's not the reason, "the young man shook his finger." I read in the newspaper that zoos in the Caucasus once tried to put the red jackals back on the grassland. And these guys who were fattened up by beef and mutton were often eaten by wild jackals as food within a week. Jackals are proud animals, and a real jackal wouldn't allow cowards to hunt with them. Hounds and foxes are kept in captivity, while I am wild, and there is no such thing as pity between us
You were once a fox kept in a zoo, right
The blood of white wolves on the Caucasus grasslands runs through my veins, "the young man laughed.
The two of them stopped talking, and the young man shook his glass and hummed a song softly. The cigar smoker lifted his leather boots on the table. Time passed by minute by minute, and the ticking sound of the clock on the wall was unusually clear amidst the faint noise coming from the next door.
The young man seemed tired and lay on the table.
Oh, Alibaba, Alibaba, I'm just a passerby... Oh, Alibaba, Alibaba, I'm just a person returning to my hometown... "His eyelids drooped slightly, and his singing slowly declined, finally turning into a vague dream.
The cigar smoker extinguished the cigarette butt on the table and stood up. He stood less than three meters behind the young man, staring at the hand holding the cup.
His eyes remained calm, but then suddenly underwent some changes. Silently, his right hand reached into the seam of his clothes.
He held the gun handle in his coat and the veins in his hand jumped up like snakes. He had confidence in his skills, and the military handgun nicknamed 'Balkan Eagle' was not difficult to control in his huge palm. A caliber of 0-5 inches, if fired at close range, is enough to tear apart the strongest muscles. The person hit will lose a lot of blood and immediately lose their ability to resist. If it hits a bone, it is enough to shatter the bullet into pieces.
He calculated the ratio of victory and defeat, knowing that young people also have a Colt under their hunting gear. Colt will have a higher advantage in accuracy, while the huge recoil of the Balkan Eagle will require him to re aim after the first shot. But those are not a problem, just one shot, one shot is enough to kill a cunning fox or a white wolf on the Caucasus grassland.
These thoughts surged wildly in his brain, like a tidal wave, and he once again felt the tension and pleasure of adrenaline secretion. His heart raced faster, his palms were sweaty, eager to try.
The silence lasted only a few seconds, and the cigar smoker finally withdrew his hand from his arms. He held a wallet in his hand. He pressed a one hundred dollar bill under a vodka bottle.
Goodbye, my dear friend. Have a good sleep. We still have a lot of things to do, "he picked up the felt hat on the table and put it on his head.
He walked backwards, slowly but firmly. His right hand was always stuck in the seam of his clothes, so much so that he didn't close the door on his right side.
From beginning to end, the young man lay motionless on the table.