Starting from South America, speeding through the world

Chapter 117 It’s too big

The wind never stopped, and the sky darkened without us noticing.

The American knelt beside the rails at the edge of the platform, his cheek pressed against the rusty steel plate.

His wrists were strapped behind his back, and his knees were pressed against the gravel.

My whole body was trembling, and I couldn't tell whether it was from the physical pain or the fear in my heart.

The Ukrainian major who had just been chatting with him was also kneeling on the ground, his mouth gagged and his face covered in blood.

Because of the intense resistance, several gun barrels were pressed against the back of his head and into his skull.

Around them stood seven or eight people in patchwork uniforms, armed with a variety of firearms.

Some were old Soviet AKs, some were mixed accessories assembled by militia members, and some even carried German-made ones.

These people clearly do not belong to any regular army.

Americans don't understand who they are, let alone why they are still alive.

Just then, footsteps came from behind him, startling him so much that he tensed up instantly, but didn't dare to move.

Two people walked in.

The Slavic leader said something in Russian that he couldn't understand.

The gunman standing nearby nodded.

Before the American could even open his mouth to defend himself, the man raised his hand and slapped him across the face.

Snapped!
The American's head was slapped to one side.

Half of his face was burning hot, and blood immediately seeped from the corner of his mouth.

He opened his mouth in alarm, only to be met with another backhand strike.

Snapped!
Immediately afterwards, the Slavs uttered another long string of words.

His tone was urgent, as if he were questioning or threatening, and his voice rose several syllables.

Zhou Yi temporarily ignored the ongoing interrogation and instead looked up, his gaze sweeping over the military truck parked not far away.

interesting.

Meanwhile, the Americans still couldn't understand what the Slavs in front of them were saying.

Those words were like jagged teeth, sawing into my nerves on the verge of collapse.

He tried to speak, but couldn't utter a single word for a long time; his lips trembled and his throat was dry.

The Slavs got impatient, grabbed him by the back of his collar, pulled him up, and then threw him to the ground.

Immediately afterwards, a heavy blow landed.

A fist, without any skill, slams into the ribs, then another, landing on the jaw.

The American's body trembled in place, like a broken doll, unable to break free or escape.

“I’m just a technology consultant! An American citizen! An American citizen!” he shouted with all his might, “Stop hitting me! I don’t know anything—”

Zhou Yi laughed as soon as he heard that.

He turned around, took a few steps, and gently patted Anton on the shoulder.

“Don’t waste your energy,” he said. “This man doesn’t speak Russian.”

Anton's anger hadn't subsided as he stared intently at the American: "He's a fucking liar. How could he not speak the language while working here?"

“It’s not an act.” Zhou Yi shook his head.

"how do you know?"

"Because he said he was an American."

As Zhou Yi spoke, he squatted down in front of the Americans, revealing a smile that could almost be described as amiable.

“Speak,” he said in English. “You’re American, right? I’m guessing you’re from the Department of Energy?”

The Americans were stunned for a moment, then, as if grasping at a lifeline, they nodded frantically.

“Yes, yes! Department of Energy! I’m just an inspector—a technical advisor, not a soldier! I have no weapons, I have no idea what happened!”

“He said he was a technology consultant at the U.S. Department of Energy,” Zhou Yi translated simply.

Anton stared at Zhou Yi in surprise, completely unexpected that he could speak English.

He subconsciously scratched his head, clicked his tongue softly, and then turned his attention back to the American in front of him.

Ask him—what is he doing here?

Zhou Yi looked down at the Americans.

"Did you hear that? He asked you, 'What are you doing here?'"

Seeing that things seemed to be turning around, the American quickly said:

"Because of nuclear disarmament, the US-Ukraine joint project, and the Nahn-Luga Agreement, we are here to destroy old stockpiles!"

"Nuclear warheads are all registered, packaged, and numbered."

He spoke rapidly, somewhat incoherently. "No...not from the military, I'm an engineer, I've never even touched a gun! I swear!"

Zhou Yi listened expressionlessly, then turned to Anton and said:

"He said they came to fulfill the Nan-Luga Agreement, the transfer of nuclear warheads, which is a cooperative project between the U.S. and Ukrainian governments."

Upon hearing this, Anton's facial muscles twitched suddenly.

My scalp suddenly felt numb.

damn it.

They've really gone too far.

According to Igor, they came to find Mikhail to secretly transport the nuclear warheads.

They were simply hidden among the munitions in a few train carriages.

But now, an American has personally stated that this is a batch of nuclear warheads monitored by governments around the world.

Anton felt a tightness in his throat and his heart began to race.

"I need to make a phone call," he said through gritted teeth, then turned and left.

At first, I kept a steady pace, but later I started jogging.

No one stopped him.

No one dared to speak.

Zhou Yi stood there, watching An Dong's departing figure, gently exhaled, and squatted down.

"He's gone, let's continue our conversation."

The American's Adam's apple bobbed, his lips were so dry they were stuck together, and it took him several seconds to finally open his mouth and say:

"I'll tell you anything you want to know."

How many nuclear warheads are there in this batch?

Thirty-two.

The American replied reflexively, "They all come from your old fleet; the retired R-29 series warheads have already passed the first stage of dismantling."

"They're all on the train?"

"Twenty...twenty in the middle of the train." The American swallowed hard.

"So the remaining twelve are all on that car over there?"

"No, no. There were only ten on that vehicle, which were supposed to be transported away this afternoon. The cooling system hasn't been connected to electricity yet."

"model?"

"Eight are standard warheads from the R-29R platform. The other two were salvaged from the RT-23 rail-ballistic missile system. Uh, the serial number prefix belongs to the Northern Fleet's Murmansk Oblast Arapula military base."

"Very good, thank you for your cooperation." Zhou Yi smiled with satisfaction.

The American didn't dare to respond, his head lowered, his lips trembling uncontrollably.

"What's your name?" Zhou Yi asked.

"...Can I not tell you?"

"Then I'll call you DOE."

“Listen, DOE, there’s one last question.” Zhou Yi stood up, patting his trouser leg. “Where are the keys to that truck?”

"It's in the cockpit, still plugged in, it was inserted during testing."

The American started speaking but then changed his tune to pleading: "Please don't kill me, I promise I won't say a word. I have children."

Not far away, Anton walked back.

His face was still pale, but his eyes held a more complex expression.

“The boss has spoken,” he said. “We’re only checking Mikhail’s things; nothing else is to be touched.”

Zhou Yi glanced at him and raised an eyebrow slightly.