Starting from South America, speeding through the world

Chapter 111 Improvisation
Boris remained seated in his chair, his expression a mixture of despair and numbness.

His shirt was unbuttoned, exposing his chest and ribs.

The wire is wrapped around the skin under the armpit and secured with Velcro.

"Don't move," Zhou Yi said in a low voice.

This is not an ordinary vest; the explosive charge is fixed to the back, and the trigger mechanism is spring-loaded.

Once released, the circuit device can be closed immediately, with enough power to blast a person in two from the lumbar spine.

“You know I’m not lying to you,” Zhou Yi said calmly, casually tightening the top clasp of his vest. “This isn’t a toy.”

Boris didn't speak, he just closed his eyes with difficulty.

Zhou Yi glanced at him, unlocked the latch, activated the power, and the red light came on.

"Now, stand up."

Upon hearing the sound, Boris trembled uncontrollably and slowly rose to his feet, suppressing his fear.

Where are your car keys?

"Left pocket of the coat."

Zhou Yi nodded, picked up the woolen coat from the back of the chair, put it on, and put on the felt hat.

Then, after scanning the room to make sure everything was in order, he hid the remote control in his sleeve.

"Let's go," he said softly.

Upon hearing this, Boris mechanically began to walk downstairs with Zhou Yi.

The garage was cold and damp.

The air was filled with the smell of gasoline and old cement dust.

Zhou Yi got into the driver's seat, while Boris was shoved into the back seat without saying a word.

Half a minute later, the car emerged from underground and proceeded along the outer ring road of Sevastopol.

The streets were deserted in winter, with only a few pedestrians wrapped in thick clothes, walking with their heads down.

The car was so quiet that only the occasional soft sound of the steering lever could be heard.

"You think they'll fall for it?" Boris suddenly asked, his voice hoarse. "What can you get from them in an hour?"

“I don’t need them to fall for it,” Zhou Yi replied succinctly. “I just need you to stay in the room and stall them.”

He paused, then added, "Actually, you should be grateful."

"The Israelis will never expect you to have the guts to scheme against them."

Boris didn't speak, but gently rested his head against the window, letting the wind seep in through the cracks.

"If you cooperate fully, I'll consider giving you a bullet."

Zhou Yi said calmly, "At least I won't let you turn into a pile of mud."

"But what if you have other ideas?"

He chuckled lightly: "By then, you probably won't even have the chance to hold a proper funeral."

8:54 PM.

The vehicle drove into the alleyway surrounded by old locust trees.

At the end of the road is a gray brick building converted from an old-fashioned guesthouse.

There are no signs at the entrance, only a bronze plaque that once belonged to a "logistics and reception" organization, with rusted edges.

Zhou Yi parked the car next to him and unbuckled his seatbelt.

"Ready?"

Boris swallowed hard. "Ready."

"Relax, you look too tense right now."

After saying this, Zhou Yi got out of the car, went around to the back, and opened the car door for him.

Boris got out of the car stiffly, but remembering his instructions, he forced a smile.

Zhou Yi sized him up for a few seconds, said nothing, and reached out to straighten the hem of his trench coat to ensure that the outline of his vest was completely covered.

"Don't let your eyes wander, and don't walk too fast."

"Remember, from now on, you are an arms dealer who comes to report on progress."

Boris's throat bobbed, and he whispered, "Okay."

"Then please go ahead," Zhou Yi said, bowing slightly to indicate that he should go first.

Boris gritted his teeth, took a few more deep breaths, straightened his back, and entered the building.

This time, Zhou Yi didn't follow immediately. He stood by the steps, lit a cigarette, silently counted a few seconds, and then pulled out his military dagger from his pocket.

He needed three minutes to eliminate any potential spies or informants on the periphery.

We must also leave enough room for maneuver for what is to come.

Boris stood in front of the door at the end of the corridor, trying to look as natural as possible.

He went over his words in his mind again before raising his hand to knock on the door.

"Come in," came the voice of a middle-aged man from inside.

There were no windows in the room, only a single light on the ceiling.

An old Soviet military flag, already fading, hangs on the wall.

A long wooden table is placed in the center, with a chair on each side.

The liaison officer from Tel Aviv sat on the left, wearing a dark gray suit.

Behind him stood two young bodyguards, muscular, dressed in casual clothes, with bulging waists.

The moment Boris walked in, all three of them looked up at him.

The air grew heavier.

The middle-aged man glanced behind Boris and frowned slightly: "Are you alone?"

"The driver will stay outside and wait for me."

Boris answered rather quickly.

Realizing this, he shrugged, pretending not to care, "You know, I don't like too many people getting involved in these things."

The middle-aged man didn't say anything more, but simply raised his hand, gesturing for him to sit down.

Boris did as instructed, discreetly pressing down the hem of his trench coat to prevent his vest from showing.

"You said there was urgent progress that needed to be explained in person."

The middle-aged man spoke, his posture as condescending as ever: "Now, speak."

“The situation has changed faster than expected.” Boris paused for a moment, then continued:
"I came here to inform you in advance that the delivery time needs to be readjusted."

"Adjustment?"

The middle-aged man's expression was unfriendly. "You mean, it's been postponed again?"

“No, it’s earlier,” Boris quickly interjected. “The original plan was to deliver in batches, but now, uh, our technicians have managed to complete the packaging process ahead of schedule.”

Upon hearing this, the middle-aged man's expression softened somewhat. "Tell me the exact time."

“Three o’clock tomorrow morning,” Boris said, forcing himself to speak.

The middle-aged man sized him up for a few more seconds, then stood up, straightened his suit, and said, "Very good, see you tomorrow."

After saying that, he was about to leave.

Boris felt a pang of bitterness upon seeing this.

The time set by the Asians hasn't arrived yet.

His mind raced, and he decided to take the plunge, jumping to his feet: "Wait!"

The middle-aged man stopped in his tracks, tilted his head slightly, and his eyes held a scrutinizing look.

"What else?"

Boris's lips parted slightly, his mind a jumbled mess, but there was no turning back now.

“I...I turned Igor’s men against me. He...he gave me a list with the locations of other nuclear warheads on it.”

As soon as he said it, he could tell how unreliable it was.

The room fell into an odd silence.

The middle-aged man observed him for a long time, his expression gradually becoming serious.

He winked at the bodyguard beside him, "Go and search them."

"wait wait wait--"

At this point, Boris could no longer hold on, and his breathing became increasingly rapid.

The wires were wrapped around his chest, like a noose tightening around him as he was being hanged.

He wanted to run, to shout, to jump off the building.

But his feet seemed to be nailed to the ground, unable to move even an inch.

The next second, the trench coat was suddenly ripped open.

(End of this chapter)