my beauty world

Chapter 139 Knights

Squaw Valley is named after the valley. The terrain is not flat. There are many hills covered with woods between the grasslands, which block people's vision and make them unable to see too far.

The pickup truck stopped on the outskirts of a hill. Gary got out of the car, pulled out his shotgun and put it on his shoulder, saying, "This is one of the poaching spots."

Ronan reached out to the back, and Jess quickly opened the bag and handed over the M4 inside.

She also got out of the car with a gun on her back.

Ronan smelled a stench of corruption, touched his nose, and followed Gary into the woods.

Come here under the banner of the FBI, you can't even watch the scene.

Even if it's just for Gary to see.

On the way, Jess, who is good at cheating and deceiving, took out Gary's old background.

Although Ronan never said much, Jess could tell that Ronan's goal was the rumored white bison.

Gary also said a lot about the white bison rumors.

In particular, in the aboriginal mountain village where he grew up, several elderly people often talked about the white bison.

The younger generation always disdained the old man's words, but Gary didn't take it to heart at all.

Jess made a proper mention, saying that if the white bison really existed, the two of them would report to the higher authorities to attract the attention of the higher authorities and strive to establish special protection.

This is in line with Gary's work, so Gary agreed to take them to the aboriginal mountain village after seeing a few poaching spots.

It was in the middle of two poaching spots.

Ronan followed into the woods, and Jess took out a silk scarf and wrapped it around her nose.

Blowflies buzzed around, and Gary didn't go any further, pointing to a tree in front of him: "That's the bison carcass, it's already rotten."

Ronan held back the stench and waved his hand to chase the blowflies away. He could see the rotting cow carcass. It seemed to be 3.5 meters long and weighed more than one ton. It was definitely a big guy among bison!

Gary introduced: "This bison is called Bill. It is the head of a large cattle herd nearby. It was shot three times, all with Remington M700 shotgun bullets! The poacher has excellent marksmanship. Bill was shot in the head and died immediately!" "

Ronan looked at the rotting cow carcass: "Under normal circumstances, poachers would not shoot large prey in the head, so as not to damage the head and affect the production of specimens, but the cow's head is still there..."

Gary said: "It's not just the bull's head. When I first saw it, except for the gunshot wound, the cow's carcass was untouched. They killed Bill, just looked at it, and left."

Ronan frowned: "Have you hunted the wrong target?"

Suddenly, he thought of a possibility, is the other party also looking for the demonized bison?Immediately asked: "Where are the two bison in the back?"

Gary briefly recalled, saying: "The situation is similar. After the poachers killed the bison, they did not move them, as if they were just hunting for fun."

Ronan asked, "Those two cows are also very strong cows?"

Gary nodded slightly: "Yes, they are all cows from their own herds." He deduced himself: "I think it may be some people who take pleasure in killing animals. Instead, I'm not interested, I've met similar poachers before."

It's not impossible. For example, when Luo Nanyuan was a child, he played slingshots to shoot birds not for food or other things, but simply for fun.

But there is no need to find a cow to start with.

Ronan remembered one thing. At the Russian military experimental base in Chita, the Dr. Simon who was interrogated once said that a mysterious person asked him to hunt and kill the violent bear!

The identity of the mysterious person, he speculated at the time, might be related to the Golden Book.

Could these poachers be connected?
…………

Native people, descendants of Indians who survived the founding of the United States.

These original owners of the North American continent were first massacred, then forcibly moved into "Indian Territory", gradually settled down, and became aborigines in official documents.

Today, there are still some Indians who are reluctant to contact the outside world.

Acland Mountain Village is one of them.

Although young people keep leaving, there are still dozens of people living here, making a living by planting, grazing, fishing and hunting.

The arrival of a group of off-road convoys broke the tranquility of the mountain village.

More than 20 heavily armed gunmen got off the off-road vehicle, easily controlled the people in the village, and then came to the front of the old house.

"You can't go in! You can't go in!" Someone blocked the door: "This is the shaman's residence!"

Martin, who was wearing a cowboy hat, took out his pistol, shot the man through the body, and said, "Dear Shaman, are you coming out? Or am I asking you to come out?"

At the door of the house, an old man with a wooden cane came out.

The people in the village were surrounded by a dozen mercenaries armed with automatic weapons, and a dozen more people pointed at the door with various firearms.

The old man looked down at the body that had been shot, then looked up at the blue sky, and asked, "Who are you? What do you want to do?"

Martin put his hat on his gun, showing his scarred face, and said, "Centuries ago, the knight order we belonged to had dealt with you Albanians a lot, so it's old."

The old man was very calm, and pointed at the crowd: "You let them go, just say something."

Martin pinched his waist with one hand: "After I came to Squaw Valley, I heard a rumor that there was an incredible bison here, a white bison! You are the oldest shaman among the Squaw Valley Indians, and you know the most .”

The old man didn't talk to him.

"Tell me, don't waste time!" Martin asked directly, "I have talked to the shamans in several villages, and they all said that you know where the bison is."

The old man immediately gave the answer: "I don't know."

Martin shook his head: "It's a very simple question, but it has to be made so complicated!" He shouted to the leader of the crowd: "Enrique, let the respected shaman understand our determination, the will of the Knights cannot be violated! "

The guy named Enrique was a Latino with a square face. He dragged out a big boy aged sixteen or seventeen. The parents of the boy behind were crying and wanted to rush out, but the mercenaries used gun butts hit the ground.

Martin snapped his fingers directly to Enrique.

"No..." The big boy knelt on the ground and begged bitterly, "Don't..."

Enrique raised the muzzle of the gun and slammed it through the boy's head.

The boy's body fell down, and the ground near his head was quickly stained red with blood.

Martin smiled relaxedly: "Shaman, their life and death depend on you."

The old man couldn't bear it, but kept silent.

Martin raised his hand and hooked his fingers towards Enrique.

Enrique dragged another person out and killed him with a bang!
Martin glanced at the old shaman and said, "Continue!"

Enrique continued to drag people out.

The rest of the aborigines couldn't bear it anymore, especially the relatives of the man, shouted: "Please, please say something and save his life!"

The so-called isolation is only relative. After such a long period of time, traditional Indian villages will also be affected by modernization, and the status of shamans has long been lower than before.

"Tell them quickly! Tell them what you know!" The pleadings continued: "If you don't tell, everyone will be killed!"

The old shaman lowered his head, not knowing what he was thinking.

No one begged the mercenaries and executioners anymore, they all begged the old shaman to save their lives.

The old shaman sighed and shouted, "Stop!"

Martin smiled and raised his hand, Enrique withdrew his finger on the trigger full of regret.

The old shaman didn't answer, but said instead: "Can't you see that, whether I say it or not, they will kill us!"

Enrique grinned, showing his yellow teeth: "I swear in the name of the God the Knights serve, if you say it, let them go!"

The old shaman didn't believe it at all.

But the others seemed to grasp at the last straw and pleaded one after another.

Martin pushed down his cowboy hat, which had been blown up by the wind, and enjoyed the show.

Compared with simply going out to kill people, it is obviously more interesting to go out and collect what the elders need.

Seeing that the old shaman was still silent, Martin raised his hand.

Enrique raised his gun, and after a bang, another corpse fell down, and then continued to let the mercenaries pull people.

Hearing the pleading, cursing, and crying, the mercenaries around laughed.

They have all fought in the Middle East and Africa, and they don't care about human life at all.

Joining this knight order of unknown origin and serving as a member of a peripheral organization is also because they give enough money.

Mercenaries, working for money, are not shabby.

A small girl was dragged out by Enrique!

Martin stared at the old shaman: "Last chance!"

Enrique shouted: "Boss, this girl is very tender, before killing her, let's take a round first?"

Other mercenaries have echoed!
Seeing Enrique tearing the girl's clothes, the old shaman finally couldn't hold on: "In the Keertai Valley, the white bison will appear near the Keertai Valley this season."

Martin had never heard of this location, and asked someone to take out a map: "Show me!"

The old shaman marked it out.

Martin asked carefully several times to be sure.

The old shaman raised his head, pleading in his eyes: "You know what you want to know, let them go."

Enrique called two mercenaries to hold down the girl's hands and rushed forward.

Martin raised his gun and pointed it at the old shaman: "You guessed it right, I will reward you to meet God."

The old shaman sighed and just murmured, "This is our land, where we can be buried!"

boom--

The gunshot rang out, and the old shaman fell to the ground.

Martin shook his head: "Your land? Huh..."

"Head?" A mercenary behind asked, "These people?"

Several other mercenaries also looked at him with concern.

After coming out for a while, in order to maintain morale, Martin said: "You can do whatever you want, but there is one thing, no one is allowed to run away! Otherwise, I will blow his head!"

The mercenary said: "Understand! Understood!"

A massacre started, the man was pulled out and killed, the woman...

Some mercenaries with special hobbies even dragged out a few handsome men.

The aboriginal mountain village, which was not considered a big one, turned into a hell in an instant.

Martin climbed to the top of an SUV and sat on the roof rack, admiring what was happening as if it were a swath of the San Fernando Valley.

In his eyes, it is more real, exciting and interesting than the filmed.

(End of this chapter)