Starting from South America, speeding through the world

You'll find out in Chapter 73 soon.
Zhou Yi sat in the back seat of the car, without saying a word.

The scrutinizing gazes from the side were so blatant that he knew almost without turning his head that they came from the young man who had just boarded the bus.

Of course, it wasn't hostility, but rather a mixture of wariness and curiosity.

Zhou Yi didn't care, because what was really worth thinking about was the mission itself.

The three objectives belong to different units, involving both logistics and approval processes.

In addition, the requirement to "handle it in a high-profile manner" allowed Zhou Yi to guess the background of the "employer" almost instantly.

They can be linked to multiple systems, but they can't clean up internally, so they can only use off-the-books methods to remove obstacles.

And he could even ask for $150,000 in Ukraine in the 1990s.

There is no other option besides the arms industry.

A sudden cough in the car pulled Zhou Yi back to reality.

“Hello,” the young man finally couldn’t help but speak, “My name is Alexei, and I’m very happy to work with you tonight.”

Zhou Yi glanced at him.

He was in his early twenties, wearing a shirt with the collar not fully buttoned up.

He doesn't seem like someone who can wield a gun.

"And you?" Alexei asked, seeing that he didn't answer. "What's your name?"

“Fahd,” Zhou Yi casually gave a Tajik pseudonym.

Alexei was clearly just trying to break the ice with a casual topic, and was about to say something when the driver in front of him suddenly interrupted him.

"We're almost there."

The car gradually slowed down and turned onto a gravel road.

To the left and right are several rows of dilapidated military family dormitory buildings, an old-fashioned group of buildings with pinkish-gray exterior walls.

The cold wind blew in at midnight, but there was no one in sight.

When they reached the end of the road, the driver turned off the engine, leaving only the low hum of the heater inside the car.

Alexei saw the man who called himself Fahod take a black ski mask out of his pocket, put it on his head, and tighten it little by little until only his eyes were visible.

Then, he opened the car door and walked to the trunk without saying a word.

Alexei glanced at the driver instinctively.

"Is this what he is?"

The driver didn't say anything, just lit a cigarette, but his eyes never left the rearview mirror.

A few seconds later, he replied, "Don't look at me. Your uncle said you can trust his abilities."

He took a drag of his cigarette, then slowly added:
"Yuri vouched for it. He's a ruthless guy, and you know Yuri. He rarely makes such confident statements."

Alexei turned around and looked out the back window.

The glass fogged up, and he raised his hand to wipe it a couple of times, trying to make out the departing figure by the moonlight.

The man was walking towards the stairwell, carrying a huge black backpack.

He was carrying a long, narrow object in his left hand, wrapped in oilcloth, so his identity was not visible.

"What does he plan to do?" Alexei was a little surprised because the man's pace was so relaxed that he couldn't imagine how he could complete the task.

The driver replied nonchalantly, "You're asking me? I'm just the driver."

"But he didn't even have a gun—"

“Don’t be nervous, buddy,” the driver said, flicking his cigarette ash.

Then, his attitude hardened further: "Your task has nothing to do with him."

Alexei didn't say anything more.

He stared at the light bulb emitting a dim yellow light in front of the dormitory building not far away.

The wind whipped up the remaining snow on the ground, swirling it like dust in the shadows.

Less than five minutes later, the black figure reappeared in front of the building.

Fahd.

He walked slowly, still carrying the oilcloth bundle in his hand, as if nothing had happened.

He opened the car door, got in, and said, "Let's go."

Suddenly, a faint smell of blood filled the space.

Alexei hesitated for a moment, then lowered his voice and asked:

“Fahd, if I may call you that—” “Of course you may.”

"—You should understand that this mission is not an ordinary assassination, right?"

"I know."

"Then why did you come back so soon?"

Upon hearing this, Zhou Yi pulled up his mask and gave Alexei a meaningful smile: "You'll find out soon enough."

He tossed his backpack at his feet, patted the driver's seat casually, and said, "Let's keep going."

The driver grinned, ignored Alexei's thoughts, stepped on the gas, and the car started moving again.

The scenery outside the window grew increasingly desolate; the streets of Helson seemed frozen in the dead of night.

For some reason, Alexei suddenly found the smell lingering around his nose to be terrifying.

He adjusted his posture and glanced at Fahod out of the corner of his eye.

The person didn't speak, kept their eyes closed, and their emotions were unreadable.

"Turn left ahead," the driver suddenly announced, breaking the brief silence in the carriage.

"The building is over there, the third one. The airport staff are staying there tonight."

Both sides of the road are newly built red brick buildings, with a neat style and a row of fences about half a meter high.

Zhou Yi pulled a compact Makarov rifle from his pocket and screwed on the silencer.

The car was parked across the street.

He got out of the car, bent down to pick up the tarpaulin wrapping next to his seat, and walked toward the target building.

This time, Alexei opened his mouth, but remembering the driver's warning, he remained silent.

His gaze followed the huge black backpack, and his intuition told him that there was something different inside.

About half a minute passed—

boom!
A short, muffled thud.

Then there was a one-second silence.

Then two more sounds followed.

boom!boom!
Alexei suddenly looked up and fired.

Was it the target who resisted? Or did the guards intervene?

Ten minutes later, Fahod came out of the building.

She was still wearing the same outfit, but the mask on her face concealed her expression.

He climbed back into the car and threw his bag on the floor.

“Next,” he said.

Alexei looked at the huge black backpack, his unease growing stronger, almost sending chills down his spine.

"You," he began with difficulty, "have you really dealt with those people?"

"Of course," Zhou Yi replied simply.

Alexei was filled with countless questions.

There was no blood, no corpse, and not even a trace of panic.

Did he really complete the mission?
Damn it, Yuri didn't recommend a scammer, did he?

Zhou Yi sensed his suspicion and shrugged: "Aren't you going to be working with me later?"

"You'll be able to see it for yourself then."

Alexei swallowed hard, forcing himself to look away.

Seeing that he had rarely been humiliated, the driver gave him a knowing smile, as if he was enjoying the show, and then turned his attention back to the road.

The car headed north and, after about ten minutes, stopped near a gray building.

The building is not tall, only four stories high, but it is very wide, occupying an entire street corner.

Two flags hang above the main gate: a blue and yellow national flag and a red flag with a gold emblem identifying the military region.

In the center of the small square ahead stands a metal flagpole.

The wind made a soft rustling sound as it passed through the buckle at the top.

(End of this chapter)