My own war game

Chapter 327 Red Sea Holiday (Part )

Three years later, the Red Sea
The British super cruise ship Queen Mary, carrying 2000 passengers, was crossing the sea on its first post-war African cruise.

This luxury cruise ship has a displacement of 80 tons, which is twice the displacement of most aircraft carriers at the time. During the war, it was used as a transport ship and transported Allied soldiers.

And now it has been restored to its original state, with a whole set of high-end furniture, carpets, hardwood wall panels, chandeliers, brass decorations, murals, sculptures, swimming pool, bar... all returned to the ship.

At the same time, due to the legendary status of this ship in the war, many wealthy businessmen flocked to it.

When the voyage was decided, all the tickets were quickly sold out, and surprisingly, the first-class tickets worth 500 pounds were sold out first.

At this time, a small dance party was being held on the Queen Mary.

In the spacious first-class restaurant, the crystal chandeliers cast soft light, the polished wooden floor echoes slightly underfoot, and the surrounding area is decorated with delicate gold and pearl colors...

Well-dressed people were holding glasses of champagne, walking around and chatting with each other, telling stories of the past that were hard to tell true or false. Some men whispered a few words in a lady's ear, causing her to giggle, and even the white patch on her chest began to tremble.

"You are so funny. A gentleman with such a good sense of humor like you must be very popular, right?" The lady wearing a pearl necklace looked at the other person with affectionate eyes.

"In fact, my friends all say that I am a very silent person. Only in front of a lady like you do I have the courage to express myself. If I have time, I would like to have a more detailed communication with you." The man gently kissed the back of the other's hand and rubbed the palm of the other with his index finger, hinting subtly.

When he left, as expected, there was a small piece of paper with the room number written on it in his hand.

John Denver is not a truly rich man, but a professional tabloid reporter. This 500-pound boat ticket is the capital for his "job".

He would move among the ladies, use his eloquent words to lure these shallow women into his arms, then extract valuable inside information from the women and sell it to newspapers.

Although he was making a living from this, Mr. Denver never looked down upon these women.

In his opinion, even the whores by the Thames know that they should at least guarantee the duration of the sex after receiving the money, but these canaries spend men's money while shouting about love in their love-brained minds...

It makes me sick just thinking about it.

But it was work after all. Thinking about his date that evening, Mr. Denver suddenly felt a little bored.

It would be nice to have more challenging goals.

The whispers around interrupted the man's thoughts. Mr. Denver found that some people around him kept pointing at the deck. Some young women covered their faces shyly and couldn't help peeking over there.

Following everyone's gaze, he felt his heart being moved.

On the open deck, there was a pretty woman wearing only a bikini swimsuit, lying on a sun lounger, leisurely reading a book.

You should know that the bikini was just invented two years ago. This revealing swimsuit that exposes half of the buttocks and lower abdomen and navel was met with huge criticism as soon as it came out. Many people think that wearing a bikini is shameless behavior.

Ordinary women would be too shy to even try it on in a fitting room, and only the boldest and most fashionable women would show off this outfit in public.

The girl was about 18 or 9 years old, at the best age, with brown curly hair, clear facial features, fair and delicate skin, and a pair of large sunglasses blocking the beautiful scenery, but Denver believed that the eyes behind them must be as beautiful as stars. A beauty intertwined with elegance and passion, which made John Denver intoxicated.

His natural professional genes made him quickly analyze the girl in front of him:

There was a single person sitting there, and she was accompanied by a bodyguard. Considering the "two pieces of cloth" she was wearing which were very valuable, the girl opposite must be very rich.

However, judging from her demeanor and manner, she should not be from an aristocratic family with strict family education, otherwise she would not dare to come out wearing this.

Mr. Denver labeled the girl in front of him as the daughter or lover of a super-rich man.

Compared to the lady who was nearly thirty years old, this one was obviously a better prey, and he couldn't help but move closer.

The distance shortened and he was facing the girl. A pair of white feet was just two meters in front of her, and the toes painted with light pink nail polish were still jumping playfully.

The girl seemed to notice him and pulled down her sunglasses with her slender fingers.

"Sir, what can I do for you?"

The standard accent of the upper class in southern England sounded clear and crisp. The battle-hardened Denver was a little at a loss for a moment, and finally chose a very lame opening line: "I, uh, I just want to get to know you."

"Oh?" The girl put down the book in her hand. "Then I'll give you 30 seconds. If you can successfully arouse my interest, I will chat with you."

In 30 seconds, Denver quickly thought about it, trying to find a breakthrough.

Just as the time was about to pass, he saw the book in the girl's hand. On the spine of the book was written "101 Scheer Street - Legend of Super Agents"

An idea came to his mind, and the man quickly said, "Let's talk about your book. Do you know 007?"

Not sure if it was an illusion, John Denver felt that the eyes of the two bodyguards around him were focused on him for an instant.

Someone wanted to come up and pull the man's shoulders, but the young girl on the recliner immediately waved her hand and said, "I'm very interested in this topic. Please tell me more."

She became curious, which was a good start, and the man was delighted.

Seeing that the other party was not repulsed by him, Mr. Denver leaned forward again and said, "Excuse me, a charming woman like you should not read such a tacky novel published by a third-rate publisher. The content in it is completely fabricated."

"Hmm~" the girl nodded, took the book aside, and said in an agreeable tone, "As you can see, my friend and I had a quarrel, so I had to go out alone. I relied on this kind of thing to pass the time on the road. I also know that the above is all made up."

As a veteran in the world of women, Mr. Denver certainly knew what these young girls wanted to hear. These young ladies who had never experienced the ups and downs of life actually liked stories about heroes on the battlefield.

So he deliberately lowered his voice and said, "But I do know the true situation of the people in this book. Do you want to hear it?"

The girl's eyes lit up and she asked with interest, "Of course, do you know the inside story? Who is 007?"

(End of this chapter)