Courtyard House: Why is my time-travel experience so shabby?

Chapter 1127: No Family Love in the Emperor's House

Du Weiguo, the plague god, has finally left. This great news made all the bigwigs in Moscow breathe a sigh of relief.

Almost at the same time as he took off, Brezhnev also hurriedly boarded a special plane back to Moscow.

Damn it, if I don’t go back, my position as the top leader will be unstable.

At the same time, in Washington, thousands of miles away, the situation seemed calm on the surface, but was turbulent secretly.

This year is Citigroup’s election year, and it’s also the darkest and most chaotic election in history.

The incumbent President Johnson, who was struggling for re-election because of his declining approval rating, unexpectedly canceled a very important large-scale public speech.

  He hurried back to his residence and met with the CIA director.

He has to see her. The Avengers messed up, and the Sharpshooter is probably pissed off now. This situation even directly affects his life safety.

  Unknowingly, Du Weiguo has become a prominent figure who can influence the general situation of the world and even the world pattern!

Western Asia, Afghanistan.

This time, the route that Nikonov arranged for Du Weiguo was quite interesting.

The Soviet-made An-22 transport plane he is riding now was originally Nikonov's private plane, a completely modified version.

Apart from anything else, the fuel tank alone, after extreme modification, has enabled the vehicle's range to reach a terrifying 8000 kilometers.

Therefore, this giant steel bird can take off from Moscow, directly cross the vast territory of the Soviet Union, and reach the Soviet airport on the outskirts of Kabul without any transfer.

This military airport hidden in the Gobi Desert is so huge that even Du Weiguo couldn't help but be amazed.

There are eight standard runways of 3000 meters in length, and the city is equipped with radar matrices, anti-aircraft guns, and missile positions.

Looking at the densely packed military camps around the airport, there is at least a full brigade stationed there.

At present, Afghanistan and the Soviet Union have not yet torn their relations. Afghanistan regards itself as a younger brother and obeys the big brother in exchange for strong technical and economic support.

Of course, the Russians have never been philanthropists. Their purpose of helping is to control and annex.

Even now, Afghanistan is a stake they have buried in the desert. In the previous Middle East wars, their presence was vaguely seen behind the scenes, fueling the flames.

Unfortunately, the teammates were not strong enough and they fought in a muddled way in the previous few battles, and in the end the Middle Eastern bully won.

As soon as he opened the cabin, Du Weiguo felt a dry chill unique to the desert blowing towards him.

At this moment, several GAZ jeeps had already stopped on the runway. When they saw him, more than a dozen elite soldiers armed to the teeth immediately jumped out of the vehicles.

They are all elite members of the KGB's A Unit and are usually stationed in military camps.

The leader was a tall and straight young man wearing a khaki camouflage uniform with oil paint on his face. He was fully armed and as tough as a cheetah.

"Hello, Mr. Wesley, my name is Smil, the car is ready and we can leave at any time."

Smil spoke Chinese, extremely fluently and clearly, and his words were concise and to the point. It was obvious that he was specially hired to please Du Weiguo.

Du Weiguo did not get in the car immediately. He lit a cigarette and looked at Smil with interest, his tone slightly teasing:

"Smil, you plan to take me directly to New Delhi in this look. Aren't you afraid of causing an international dispute?"

  Kabul is not far from New Delhi, only about 500 kilometers away in a straight line.

It’s just that the road conditions are terrible and we have to cross the borders of three countries successively. But if we drive, we can get there in at least 10 hours.

Smil quickly explained:

"No, sir. We will take you out of Afghanistan, through Pakistan, and to Lahore, which borders India. Someone there will pick you up and continue on to New Delhi."

Lahore is Pakistan's easternmost border city, close to India. The Soviet Union also has great power there.

Du Weiguo nodded without comment and turned to Miss Hu.

"Hu Da, this place is very close to Seli. Do you want me to arrange a plane to take you back first?"

"No, there's nothing going on over there. I'll go with you."

Miss Hu didn't even hesitate for a second, and her tone was extremely firm and resolute.

Du Weiguo raised his eyebrows slightly and said jokingly with a smile:

"What's the matter? Hu Da, you don't want the land anymore? I just heard that Siam is going to build a factory to manufacture cars, aren't you as anxious as an ant on a hot pot?"

Just now on the plane, Du Weiguo and Hu Da were chatting and inadvertently mentioned that Moran and Zhao Yingnan were going to build cars in Siam.

When Miss Hu heard this, she flew into a rage.

Miss Hu is an insightful person. She knows very well what it means to build cars independently. This is not just a simple business, but represents a complete industrial system.

If you can build cars, you can definitely build motorcycles and tractors, and then you can make tanks, armored vehicles, troop carriers and so on.

There is also a series of military vehicles and engineering vehicles, whose core technology is engines.

Not to mention that it was 1968 when the technological level was very backward and there were very few countries that had the ability to independently build cars.

Even in later times when technology has developed to a high level, there are not many countries that have the ability to independently build cars, and they can be counted on one hand.

Anyway, even 50 years later, Siam and Persia would definitely not be on the list.

Miss Hu raised her eyes slightly, rolled her eyes at Du Weiguo, and said unhappily:

"Hmph, what's the point of me getting anxious? I don't know how to design an engine. Whether Persia can build a car depends on your decision, Mr. Du."

She was not talking nonsense. Now, the research institute in Saint Georgetown has mastered a complete series of technologies required to build cars.

Although Guo Fu was the one in charge of Quiana on the surface, in the final analysis it was just a matter of Du Weiguo's words.

  At this point, Miss Hu suddenly changed the subject:

“Besides, didn’t you ask me to come here before to deal with Masar and the group of monsters he had gathered?

The final battle is about to begin, and you are not a real god who is invulnerable and omnipotent. I am worried about you."

While speaking, her dark red eyes glanced at Du Weiguo with a look that seemed to be both angry and smiling, which was simply captivating.

"Hey~"

Du Weiguo smiled, flicked his cigarette butt, put his arm around her slender waist, gently stroked it, and said sincerely:

"Thank you for your thoughtfulness, Hu Da."

Du Weiguo's big hand moved dishonestly downwards, and Miss Hu angrily slapped his dog paw away:

"Hmph, stop talking nonsense to me. Du Da, I want to build a car too! You have to help me arrange this."

"Okay, arrange it, arrange it."

As expected, there is no family affection in the emperor's family. After just three words, practical interests were involved. Du Weiguo shook his head in dismay, feeling a little bored.

Then he turned to Smil, who stood aside, pretending to be deaf and dumb, with his eyes on his nose and his nose on his heart:

"Okay, Smil, let's go."

Smil nodded quickly: "Okay, sir, please get in the car."

Six hours later, it was completely dark.

In the northwest of India, there is the border city of Geburtra.

Four military Land Rover jeeps were speeding along a pitch-black road without even any street lights.

It is called a highway, but in fact it is just a dirt road that is barely flat. Fortunately, it is early spring and it has not started raining yet, so the road condition is still acceptable.

"Gibson, I didn't expect you to come pick me up. This really surprised me."

Du Weiguo was sitting in the third car, and the driver was the capable and intelligent man he had met before.

Gibson Marshall, the head of MI6 in India, was the one who went to the Pakistani border to pick up Du Weiguo.

You know, Du Weiguo's itinerary this time was arranged personally by Nikonov, the head of the KGB.

He never imagined that the last leg of the journey would be completed by Gibson from MI6.

It's easy to guess that he is a double agent, or a KGB spy planted in MI6.

"Alas~" Gibson sighed softly, his tone full of helplessness:

"Mr. Wesley, to be honest, I didn't expect that the big shot who contacted Sturgeon personally and exposed himself to me to come to pick me up in person would be you. I'm so embarrassed that I'm almost suffocating now."

  Du Weiguo chuckled:

"Haha, Gibson, it seems that your rank is not low. You can actually communicate with Nikonov directly. Are you from the KGB, or were you turned over halfway?" Sturgeon is Nikonov's code name. Gibson can actually have a single line of communication with the KGB, which surprised Du Weiguo again.

"I, I was originally from the KGB, my ancestors were from Minsk, and my parents were sent to Manchester, England, as submersibles during World War I.

I received secret training at the age of 12 and joined the KGB. After returning to England, I had a single line of communication with Nikonov. At that time, he was only the head of the Third Bureau. "

When saying this, Gibson's tone was bitter and sad.

It's not easy to be a double agent. You have to live in fear almost every day and night.

You have to be on guard against both your own people in public and your own people in reality, and live in the endless purgatory of betrayal and being betrayed at all times.

Especially for agents like Gibson, who was born into a spy family and has been carrying out deep-sea missions since childhood, it is even more miserable.

However, it is not entirely without benefits. Gibson was able to successfully become the head of Tianzhu, probably with Nikonov's secret help.

Gibson's experience deserves sympathy because his identity was determined from birth and he had no choice, so it is understandable.

But how to deal with him is a puzzling question.

After all, he is under Reina's command and a trusted general. He has great power in India and even the entire South Asia region.

But he is also a thorn in the KGB and a complete traitor who may backstab or even kill Reina at any time, so he must not be kept alive.

However, this fatal problem is nothing to Du Weiguo.

It is estimated that the old fox Nikonov deliberately arranged this to expose Gibson. In addition to demonstrating his strength, he was also trying to curry favor with Du Weiguo.

Deliberately showing your cards to him is like a dog showing its belly to its owner, both of which show trust.

Du Weiguo rolled down the window and lit a cigarette: "Where is Reina now?"

Gibson's voice was muffled: "New Delhi."

He was very gloomy at the moment, even in despair. He was well aware of the close relationship between Reina and Du Weiguo, and he was even more aware of the invincibility of the evil spirit.

He had basically anticipated his tragic end, and he would definitely die, but facing Du Weiguo, he didn't even have the slightest desire to resist.

"Does Reina know you're coming to pick me up?"

Gibson shook his head: "I don't know."

Du Weiguo asked in a more serious tone, "Gibson, are you sure she doesn't know about your schedule? Think about it carefully before answering me."

Upon hearing this, Gibson was stunned for a moment. He vaguely heard some different meaning.

Thinking of the possibility of continuing to live, or even escaping fate and living a better life, he was so excited that veins on his forehead popped out.

"Sir, I am sure that, at least up to now, Minister Reina definitely does not know that I am here to pick you up."

Du Weiguo reached out and patted his shoulder:

"Gibson, now I can give you a chance to survive, and even get out of this situation where you are in dire straits."

"Mr. Wesley, is it true?"

"Well, really."

Hearing Du Weiguo's affirmative answer with his own ears, that glimmer of hope really appeared before his eyes. Gibson was so excited that he was shaking all over and couldn't even speak a complete sentence.

"Sir, I, I~~"

Du Weiguo's tone was teasing:

"However, Gibson, there is still a problem that needs to be solved. The agents from the Sixth Division who came with you to pick me up also know this secret. How do you think we can solve it?"

There were a total of four Land Rovers that came to pick up Du Weiguo this time. In addition to Gibson himself, there were also six agents from the Sixth Department, all of whom were his loyal subordinates.

These agents all met Du Weiguo and his group, and two of them even knew him before.

Logically speaking, if Gibson wants to escape and continue to live, he must keep the secret, so his men have no choice but to kill them.

Upon hearing this, Gibson's expression froze for a moment, and then his face showed visibly confusion and pain.

He licked his lips subconsciously and explained with a dry mouth:

"First, sir, they have been my confidants for a long time, and they are both capable and loyal. They shouldn't~~"

"Ha~"

Du Weiguo interrupted him with a sneer:

"Gibson, you are a veteran spy and a double agent. Are you kidding me now? As far as I know, only the dead can keep secrets."

Hearing Du Weiguo's cold voice, Gibson felt as if he had fallen into an icy cave.

His brows were tightly furrowed, his lips were pursed, his expression kept changing, and his hands gripping the steering wheel were bulging with veins and making crackling sounds.

After waiting for a few seconds, Du Weiguo slowly exhaled the smoke and asked with a half-smile:

"Why? Gibson, is this a hard choice? Or are you unable to do it yourself and need me to do it for you?"

Hearing this question, Gibson couldn't help but turn his head and look at Du Weiguo. At this moment, his eyes were complicated.

Entanglement, pain, struggle, cruelty, despair, and even a touch of determination.

Of course Du Weiguo saw through his dangerous plan at a glance, but he still held the cigarette in his mouth, speaking nonchalantly and jokingly:

"Gibson, dying together is a very stupid choice. Don't even think about it. I promise that you will die, but not even a hair of mine will fall off."

At this point, he turned his head to look at Miss Hu, and said in a scoundrelly tone: "Am I right, Miss Hu?"

When her name was called, Miss Hu, who had been sitting in the back row with her eyes closed, curled her lips helplessly, raised her eyelids lazily, and a gorgeous dark red light flashed by.

At the same time, Gibson was shocked to find that he had lost control of his body in an instant.

His body was still moving, still driving the jeep steadily, but he had strangely become a bystander, unable to move even his little finger.

Miss Hu's tone was lazy, but her voice was cold: "Be quiet, don't let your imagination run wild."

After a brief moment of shock, Gibson immediately realized that he was being controlled and that he had no control over his life or death.

Such a situation was like a basin of ice water that instantly extinguished the fire in Gibson's eyes and his delusion of a fight to the death.

After more than ten seconds, Miss Hu closed her eyes impatiently, and Gibson regained control of his body.

"Haha~~"

Gibson stretched out his fingers, laughed dryly a few times, then took out a cigarette box and lit it tremblingly.

"Whoo~"

  He exhaled a long breath of smoke, his voice was hoarse, bitter, helpless and sad:

"Mr. Wesley, my brothers are all innocent, and they don't know my identity. Please leave them a chance to live."

Du Weiguo certainly understood what he meant. He raised his eyebrows in surprise and said jokingly:

"Gibson, are you sure? Are you willing to die for a few people who are not your relatives or friends?"

Hearing this soul-searching question, Gibson clenched his teeth and made a creaking sound.

  After a long time, he nodded dejectedly, closed his eyes, and spoke in a vicissitudes of life tone with a hint of relief:

"Yes, they are all innocent and not unrelated to me. They have been with me through thick and thin and have saved my life more than once.

"Mr. Wesley, I'm tired. I've had enough of this half-human, half-ghost life."

  "Haha!" Du Weiguo finally laughed and patted him on the shoulder, his tone full of appreciation:

"Very good! Gibson, you passed. From now on, you will be my personal liaison officer, responsible for helping me contact MI6 and the KGB at the same time."

"Ah?" Gibson, who had already lowered his head and waited for death, was completely stunned.

"First, sir, then, then them."

"Ha, of course you don't have to die, come and help me. Of course, you can continue to stay in the Sixth Office. I can change their memories and keep this secret buried forever."

Du Weiguo never thought of silencing a few agents from the Sixth Division. He wanted to recruit Gibson into his team just to test his character.

As the old saying goes, great things are achieved without paying attention to small details! One general's success is the result of the sacrifice of thousands of soldiers. This saying is true, but it does not apply to subordinates.

  Damn, just imagine, a person who is heartless and ungrateful, who has no bottom line and will do anything to survive, who the hell would dare to work with such a character?

He betrayed others today to save his life, and he will betray you again the next day!