my stealth fighter

Chapter 329 Looking for a quiet visit to the saint
An old pickup truck slowly parked on the side of the road.

"Traveler?"

The driver was a middle-aged man in his fifties, his face was tanned by the sun, and his body smelled strongly of alcohol and tobacco. He looked up and down at the young man standing on the side of the road waving for a ride, and saw that he was about 30 years old. On the left and right, wearing a pair of frayed riding boots, a pair of dusty jeans, a leather jacket on the upper body, and a wide-brimmed cowboy hat, with a tired face and a dusty look, there is a vigilant dog squatting at his feet. French wolfhound.

Generally speaking, few people travel with dogs, right?

In addition, travelers usually have vigor and smiles on their faces, but this young man seems to have hidden worries on his face.

The driver didn't wait for the hitchhiker to answer, and muttered to himself: "It doesn't look like it, are you here for a pilgrimage?"

"That's it."

Ron grinned.

"You can sit in, but the dog can only sit in the trunk. If you don't agree, wait for the next one. I don't want him to shit in the compartment!" the driver said.

"Don't worry, I can also sit in the car, as long as it can take us to the next village," Ron said.

The driver shrugged, "It's up to you, but the body of the car is for me to pull goods, and the smell is not very good."

"It's ok."

After Ron finished speaking, he threw the travel bag on his back into the car body first, then jumped into the car body with the baffle, and whistled to his dog Gavin.

With a leap, Gavin also jumped into the truck bed.

The pickup wobbled and started slowly.

The smell in the truck is really not good, the smell of chicken manure and cow dung is quite pungent, and there are some machinery and sundries piled up for farm work, but Ron is not picky, it would be nice to get a ride , how can there be any qualifications to pick and choose?

He rubbed his sore and swollen thighs, took out a wet towel from his backpack and wiped his face, secretly feeling that he was no longer young, and a long-distance trip without a few dollars in his pocket might not be suitable for him anymore.

Gavin lay prone in the bed, obviously tired.This French wolfhound is almost five years old this year, and is no longer the one or two-year-old little guy who is so energetic that he has nowhere to vent.

He took out the sausage from his backpack, broke it in half, stuffed one half into his mouth, and fed the other half to Gavin. One person and one dog ate it in big mouthfuls, and Gavin swallowed the half in two or three bites.

The driver saw his movements from the rearview mirror, opened the small window between the compartment and the body, and passed a package through the small window, "I ate half of the beef burger my wife made for me. Fill it up...the older this woman is, the less her mind will work, and she forgot to put in my favorite yoghurt!"

"Thank you!"

Ron took the paper bag and opened it. Inside was a Big Mac-level three-layer beef hamburger, which was half-eaten and still slightly lukewarm.

"Come on, Gavin." He put the burger in front of Gavin, who sniffed it and started to gobble it up.

Ron was happier to see that his dog was full than to be full himself.

"Young man, where did you come from?" The driver raised his voice and asked, "Your accent doesn't sound like someone nearby?"

"No fixed place, the last stop was Romania." Ron raised his hand and touched the brim of his hat to express his respect.

The driver smiled, "That's far enough... I'm not a local either, but I've lived here for 20 years, so I'm half a local... When I was young, I was just like you, wandering around and getting married Is it gone?"

"No." Ron laughed.

"Listen to my advice, don't get married! Look at me, I used to yearn for poetry and distant places, but after getting married, I can only shovel horse manure every day in such a shabby place!" the driver complained.

"Hehe~" Ron smiled in agreement.

"Sergey." The driver tried to turn around and stretched out his hand through the small window.

"Ron, this is Gavin." Ron introduced himself and his dog.

Sergey pointed to the side, "I said, brother Ron, is that what you came for?"

Ron looked over there, nodded and said, "Yes."

On the horizon, two tall and short peaks stand side by side, connected by a ridge about ten kilometers long in the middle.

That is the destination of Ron's trip - Mount Ararat.

The taller mountainside covered with snow is the Great Ararat, and the shorter one is the Little Ararat.

Armenia is a small country, and the Great Ararat Mountain has a strange peak, with an altitude of more than 5000 meters. Therefore, more than half of the country can vaguely overlook the Ararat Mountain when the weather is fine.

When Ron came to this country, he felt that he was always looking forward to Mount Ararat, but he was always out of reach, and the soles of his shoes were worn thin.

After he left Romania, he crossed the Black Sea eastward by boat, passed through Georgia, and finally came to Armenia. He walked on two legs, but Gavin, who had no shoes, wanted to walk with him.

Originally, it was very convenient to fly, but who told him to give most of his money to the wife of his hunting teammate, because he couldn't buy a flight ticket, and he didn't have the money to check Gavin in, so he had to go through so much trouble.

He didn't have a mobile phone. Before entering Armenia, he made a call with a public phone and learned that his companion's condition hadn't improved. He was still insane. His wife and daughter didn't have the money to hire foreign experts to treat him. This made him even more determined. His determination, he will try to find the legendary monastery in Mount Ararat, and use the power of angels to heal his companions.

He didn't believe this before, but after experiencing those incredible things in the Romanian forest, he has no choice but to believe it.

He squinted his eyes and looked at Mount Ararat, which was getting closer and closer. The white snow on the top of the mountain reflected the gradually setting sun, standing under the burning clouds all over the sky, as beautiful as an oil painting.

Sergey was silent for a while, and then asked again: "Ron, what do you do for work? I mean, what do you rely on for food while wandering around?"

"Hunting." Ron made a gesture of shooting a gun, "I am good at hunting, so sometimes those rich young ladies who want to experience the fun of hunting in the real forest will spend money to find people like us to accompany them If we go into the mountains together, or sometimes where wild animals hurt people, the local government will spend money to hire us to go hunting.”

"Ah...it sounds good, very exciting!" Sergey patted the steering wheel and sighed: "This kind of life is called life!"

Ron smiled wryly. He had no other skills, so he could only do this kind of work to support himself. This kind of work was dangerous and hard, and he didn't earn as much as he imagined. There was no company to pay them for medical insurance. Everything had to be done. By himself, he worked hard for several years and barely saved any money.

"It looks like you don't look like someone who would come here on purpose, so what are you doing here?" Sergey's tone changed, with a hint of interrogation. This is the case in many small places, and he is very wary of foreigners.

Ron hesitated a little, and asked back: "Sergey, you have lived at the foot of Mount Ararat for 20 years, have you ever heard of an angel on the mountain?"

"Hey! Young man! Watch your words!" Sergey turned his head and warned: "'Ararat' is what the Turks next door call it, we Armenians call it 'Ararat', understand If my father-in-law heard it... I mean if my father-in-law heard it while he was still alive, he would definitely beat the shit out of you!"

"Uh... sorry." Ron quickly apologized, thinking that Ararat Mountain is obviously in Turkey, shouldn't it be called by others?

Sergey snorted and turned his head to look at the road ahead, "I pretended I didn't hear it just now, anyway, I'm only half a local... Isn't it nonsense to ask if there are any angels on Mount Ararat? Ararat Te in Armenian means the place where God lives, how can there be no angels in the place where God lives?"

"Oh? Then have you seen the angel on Mount Ararat?" Ron cheered up.

Compared to the small country, Armenia has many churches. When Ron walked on the streets of the town, he often saw nuns wearing nuns' clothes, but the styles of these nuns' clothes were slightly different from those of Catherine and the others. cap.

Every time he saw the nuns, he couldn't help but want to stop them and ask them if they knew the location of the Ararat Monastery, and if they knew Catherine... But he knew that such a question was too abrupt, and they were Secular nuns, Catherine and the others... are extraordinary nuns.

Sergey stared forward, "No, I haven't seen it with my own eyes, I just heard it from people, but you know, things like legends are not accurate."

Ron nodded thoughtfully.

"So, you're here to look for the Holy Ghost?" Sergey asked.

"Almost." Ron didn't intend to hide it.

"Be careful that the saint didn't visit, and you left your life on Mount Ararat." Sergey warned kindly, "Mount Ararat is difficult to climb, even for those mountaineering experts."

Ron smiled easily, "It's okay, a bad life, worthless."

Sergey looked at him unexpectedly through the rearview mirror, "It seems that you have asked for an angel?"

"Yes."

Anyway, the journey was boring, so Ron told his story. He didn't make it too complicated. He only said that he met a demon in the Romanian forest, his companion was frightened and went crazy, and his only hope was to find an angel.

"That's it..." Sergey didn't sound like he was lying, otherwise he could have made up a more credible lie, and the worry on his face was unmistakable. He didn't take the risk to go to Afghanistan for his own benefit. Le Shan, but he was willing to take great risks for his unfamiliar companions.

"It's getting late, where do you plan to stay tonight?" Sergey changed the subject.

"Find a place sheltered from the wind and set up a tent." Ron patted his backpack. He couldn't afford a hotel, not even a motel, and he camped all the way.

Sergey turned his head, "Do you want to stay at my house tonight?"

Ron was taken aback.

"I really want to hear your adventure stories in various places, let's take it as the accommodation fee." Sergey said, "In addition, you are going to meet the angel, so you have to take a bath first, and your dog , now you smell worse than horse manure, do you want to smoke the angel to death?"

Ron raised his arm and sniffed his sleeve. He could no longer smell his own smell, but since he entered the Romanian forest and hid in an underground bunker until now, he hadn't taken a shower, and his body smelled terrible. One can imagine.

"Thank you very much." He said disrespectfully.

Sergey's home is a farm, which is very close to Mount Ararat, almost on the edge of the national border, and across the border, there is Mount Ararat in Turkey.

Sergey's wife is a fat middle-aged woman with a rough voice. I can't see how the young Sergey fell in love with her and was willing to stay in this village to shovel horse manure. Very hospitable, happy to see Ron's visit, but drove him and Gavin to the bathroom to take a shower after he walked in the door.

Ron quickly took a hot bath, and Gavin also took a bath. The mud and sand washed off the body of the man and the dog almost blocked the drain of the bathtub.

After taking a shower, he shaved, dried Gavin's hair, and then cleaned the bathtub, tossing and tossing in the bathroom for nearly two hours.

There was a set of Sergei's youthful clothes by the door of the bathroom.

Ron changed and left the bathroom with Gavin.

The Sergeys were already sitting at the table, ready to eat, with baked potatoes, lamb chops, baguettes and vegetable soup, and another plate of baked potatoes and lamb chops on the floor.

Ron hadn't had a serious meal for a long time. While eating, he chatted with Sergey and his wife, and told the interesting things he encountered while hunting in the forest as stories. The couple listened attentively and heard The wonderful thing is that even the food is forgotten to be delivered to the mouth.

After dinner, Ron helped clean up the dishes, and the three of them sat in the living room, watching TV by the warm fireplace, while Gavin took a nap on the carpet.

If an uninformed outsider saw this scene, they might think they were a family of three.

Sergey held the remote control and kept tuning the channel, trying to find a ball game.

"Wait a minute! Please go back to the station just now!" Ron's eyelids were also twitching, but the flashing TV picture made him suddenly lift up his spirits.

Sergey tuned back to the previous channel.

This channel is broadcasting news in Armenian, and Ron can't understand it. He asked Sergey to switch back to this channel because he saw a few familiar faces, but he was not sure if he read it wrong. .

"What's on the news?" he asked.

The TV was showing aerial footage of something smoking in the forest.

"Hmm... It means that a plane crashed in a distant place, and many people may have died." Sergey noticed his strange expression and asked, "Why? There are people you know on this plane?"

"God bless them." Sergey's wife made the sign of the cross.

The news is displaying the names and passport photos of the passengers on the plane row by row, hoping that the families of the passengers will contact the airline as soon as possible.

Ron was cold and completely sleepy, staring at the heads of Catherine and the other four nuns.

No way……

Could it be that the yin and yang were separated in the blink of an eye after meeting once in the Romanian forest?

(End of this chapter)