death of hope

Chapter 395 "Corporate Warrior" (306) Going to the meeting alone
72 hour later,
New Cambushville lifts state of emergency with no new attacks
Citizens found that overnight, tanks, armored vehicles, and uniformed federal soldiers disappeared from the street.

The federal troops returned to the station, and the police and firefighters also returned to their normal rotation.

The TV station started broadcasting variety entertainment programs and cartoons again. There was no explosive news, and everything seemed to be back on track.

really?
Short video platforms and social apps broke out. Some executives of large companies were shot to death. There were also videos of politicians from the red and green parties confronting each other in parliament and swearing. All these news were deleted soon without exception. .

Information control can only work in a short period of time, after all, paper cannot contain fire,

People quickly realized that something was wrong and started hoarding food and medicine to deal with the unknowable crisis, and supermarket shelves became empty.

·
After a while,
The investigation found nothing, the ninjas disappeared out of thin air, and the victim was still under house arrest in a small room in the hotel,
There is no evidence that he participated in the crime. According to the federal law of Terra, he should be released without evidence after 48 hours of detention.

However, the head of the military and the mayor refused to release them, citing the protection of the victim's life as an excuse.

Actually.Still treat him as a suspect and deprive him of his freedom indefinitely.

Imprisoning an innocent victim for a month, this obvious illegal act has aroused the dissatisfaction of the police, and everyone has no choice but to order it from their superiors.

The way of expressing dissatisfaction, that is, passively carrying out orders,
The police withdrew the team monitoring the suspects, leaving only a small policeman who had just graduated from the police academy and was still in the internship period on duty in the hotel lobby.

In the middle of the night, someone pushed open the window, saw that there were no vehicles and pedestrians on the street, and stepped on the window sill with one leg.
Under the dim light of the street lamps, the figure climbed along the drainpipe of the hotel from the fifth floor to the first floor, and his huge body burst out with the agility of an ape.

Rock climbing and downhill is a compulsory course for the airborne troops, and it is a piece of cake for the legendary hero of the Federation Marcus Lynch,
The curtains inside the floor-to-ceiling windows were not closed, Lynch looked towards the hotel lobby,

The receptionist on the night shift was doing crossword puzzles with her head bowed, and the young policeman was lying on a leather sofa, covering his face with a big-brimmed hat, taking off his leather shoes and sleeping soundly.

(This way, I might really become a suspect, but I have no choice...)
Marcus Lynch thought so, walking along the edge of the building.

Now New Cambushville is panicked, and the streets are deserted,

Twelve o'clock is displayed on the big clock of the church not far away.

Lynch bent down and trotted all the way, trying to avoid the area illuminated by street lights, and hid in the shadows when encountering patrolling police cars, just like that, and finally found a taxi with lights on at the corner.

The taxi driver's stinky feet are sticking out of the window, the radio is playing a midnight talk show, reading the newspaper and drinking instant coffee, leisurely and leisurely, and the red light of "no load" on the front windshield is particularly conspicuous.

Lynch slipped over and opened the back door of the taxi, which was too short for him to squeeze in:
"Master, go to the skating rink."

The driver didn't look back, just glanced at the rearview mirror, and saw a big, unshaven and ugly man in the back seat, wearing ridiculous clothes like he was going fishing:

"The skating rink...you mean...the one in the development zone?"

"Yes, the newly built one in the development zone."

"Are you sure, sir, the skating rink is already closed in the middle of the night."

"It's not roller skating, there are other urgent matters." Lynch took out a bill and threw it on the passenger seat: "This is a tip, please drive faster."

The driver glanced at the banknote, closed the newspaper contentedly, put on his shoes and said, "Don't worry, you should sit still and fasten your seat belt. My buddy, I used to be a racing driver, and I have run rally races."

"Excuse me, Master Driver."

The driver did not lie, and quickly reached 120 miles. He checked the passenger's reaction from the rearview mirror, with a mischievous attitude, because the passenger who asked him to drive fast would soon regret it, and begged him to drive slowly. point.

However, the passenger was as stable as a ballast stone, motionless, looking sideways at the night street scene passing by outside the window:

"Master driver, can you hurry up?"

"Okay...okay...I'll try my best..." The taxi driver looked embarrassed.

(It's almost 170 miles just now, and I didn't spit it out...What is the origin of this guy?)

In order not to be heard by the driver, the passenger put on headphones and played the voice message received during the day:

"Corporate warrior, come to the skating rink in the development zone at one o'clock tonight. If we see you bringing other people or carrying weapons, just wait to collect the corpses of your wife and children!"

Although the voice of the voice message has been processed through technology, it is still easy to hear the callousness and arrogance in the speaker's tone.

When he first received this message, Lynch was very happy and thought:
(They are all still alive! That's great! No matter who the other party is, you must not provoke them, follow their rules.)
All the way to the skating rink, the guests paid a lot of money, and the taxi driver got ten times the pay. It seems that tonight can call it a day.

The driver lowered the window and watched the back of the strangely bulky passenger until it disappeared into the mist.

As part of the new sports facility in the new Cambushville development, the skating rink covers a vast area with a soaring canopy that is clearly visible in the dark and fog.

Walking through the empty parking lot and coming to the entrance of the stadium, Lynch has an impression of this place,
Not long ago, his wife enrolled Franz in a roller skating interest class for young children, and she promised to bring her son there every week. The children like roller skating, which is also good for exercise.

He took the initiative to say that in the future, when his daughter grows up, he will bring her to play. The whole family will skate together hand in hand, and after the skate, they will go to the nearby restaurant to have a big meal. At that time, his wife kissed him.

Marcus Lynch remembered that kiss, missed the lip marks on her cheeks, and the unique fragrance on her body. During the month of house arrest, his PTSD condition continued to worsen, and the memory of a warm family has gradually faded away. forgotten by oneself.

Sweet memories turned into sharp swords, piercing Lynch's heart, he comforted himself in his heart:
(It will be fine, I will agree to any conditions...as long as I can let them go...)
Someone unlocked it, and Lynch directly lifted the shutter door and walked in.

It's hard to tell from the outside, the rink is brightly lit.

There is a folding chair in the middle of the field, and someone is sitting on it reading a newspaper.

Hearing Lynch's heavy footsteps, the man put down the newspaper and stood up. When he got closer, he saw clearly that he was a hunchbacked old man in a white coat, a typical image of a senior intellectual.

Wearing high myopia glasses, the top of his head is bald and shiny, with only hair around his ears, a lock of stubborn hair lying across his forehead, with a sinister and malicious smile on his face:
"Spartan company commander, Captain Marcus Lynch, legendary hero, long-awaited, long-awaited, let's shake hands."

(This old bastard is making fun of me?)

Lynch suppressed the anger in his heart, looked at the other's outstretched palm, but did not shake it:

"The ninja who attacked my house was sent by you?"

"You can say that, but it's not entirely true."

"As you can see, I came by myself, without any weapons."

"I can see that you are going all out. What a man who cares about his family is really touching."

"Where are my wife and children?"

"Don't worry, you're still breathing."

Lynch heaved a sigh of relief, and took a few steps closer, looking at the old man's face, trying to remember but to no avail:

"I don't remember sinning against you."

"You remember correctly, we have no grievances or enmities."

"Why did you send someone to attack my house?"

"Well..." The old man spread his hands and put on a helpless posture: "The reason is more complicated, and it can't be clarified in a few words. Please forgive me, hehehe..."

"Old man, I'll kill you with such a f*cking smile on my face!"

Facing the angry Lynch, the old man was not afraid at all, with a crazy and sick smile on his face:

"It's a terrible look in your eyes, as if you want to eat me, an old man, no wonder they call you Beast Lynch."

"Stop talking nonsense! Where are my wife and children?"

Lynch's roar echoed in the huge and empty ice rink,
Soon, several doors leading to the staff area around the venue were pushed open, and twelve men in black ran into the venue. It was obvious from their movements that they had received military training. The leading man said:
"Doctor, is there any trouble?"

"Be quiet, children."

The old man waved his hands at the militants, and those people stepped aside and stood aside, then he turned to face Lynch again:
"Let me introduce myself, Umbrella Biologicals Company, chief researcher of the bioweapon project,

Dr. Lyman D. Zeja. "

(End of this chapter)