death of hope

Someone wanted to draw a gun to fight back, but as soon as he opened the safety, he was pierced by subsonic bullets and his head was blown off.

"Little ones! Copy guys!"

As soon as General Sherman's fingers touched the handle of the gun, he was shot twice and fell down. The sound of wailing was intertwined with the rhythm of electronic music.

·
"Father!"

"Run for your life!"

"No back door!"

"Don't kill me! I have children!"

"Crying! There are only three people! What are you doing copying!"

"Where is it? I can't find anyone!"

"Hey! It's your own person! You're so blind!"

"Mitchell! Turn off the lights and sound effects!"

The DJ who just woke up from a dream turned off the music, reached for the revolver on the speaker, three masked men, three bullets,

DJ's blood splattered slowly on the masonry background wall behind him, and the flying sunglasses and eyeballs hung on the fire extinguisher, like a surreal painting.

·
At this time, the disco light ball in the hall has stopped rotating, the speakers have also stopped, and the surrounding LED light strips illuminate everything.
Overturned tables and chairs, cigarette butts, wine bottles, blood, hallucinogen powder, brass bullet casings...

Marcus Lynch found General Sherman under the table, grabbed his ankle with one hand and pulled out, turned over, and saw the eyes with dilated pupils:

"70th birthday, at 70, we turned the birthday cake into a wreath."

"In this way, the Queen of Spades' power in the federal army is weakened."

"This trip was not in vain. I caught a big fish, and these small fish and shrimps are not easy. Wait..."

"What did Xiao Xia say?"

"Xiao Xia said everything is OK, and has controlled the hotel's monitoring and key system. The 100th floor has been marked as Do Not Disturb, and no service personnel will come.

He also hacked into the server of the Traffic Management Bureau and controlled the traffic lights. The stripper girls hired by General Sherman at a high price are still blocking the road, and no one will come to make trouble.

By the way, he also reminded us not to go downstairs too early. Every air conditioner repair is time-consuming. In order not to arouse suspicion, we'd better stay on the 100th floor for two hours.

At that time, he will give instructions to the Trojan horse virus, and the air outlet of the air conditioner will return to normal, and we can leave calmly with the ladder. "

"I used to think that this kid was bragging, but unexpectedly, he is even more capable than what he boasted."

"Go on, don't worry, there's plenty of time to waste."

·
The three masked killers held assault rifles and continued to walk forward slowly, with their scopes all pointing in one direction.
A bald-headed officer in big underpants and a floral shirt stood alone next to the jukebox, holding a Coke bottle in his hand and a straw in his mouth.

He had taken too many hallucinogens, and he was groggy. He couldn't figure out the situation for a while. Looking around, the old friends who were swaying and reveling wildly a moment ago, all of them had blooming bellies and big brains.

Gradually waking up, his legs trembled, and a warm current flowed down the trouser legs into the socks.

·
"What's the smell?" Lynch asked warily.

"I smell it too."

"Look at the big pants." Oleg discovered the source of the smell: "The poor ghost was so scared that he peed on his pants."

"Sorry, skinhead, the birthday party is over."

Even though the person in front of them had long since lost the will to resist, the three of them still maintained their fighting stance. This was the experience they had learned from fighting half their lives on the battlefield.

Never underestimate your opponent.

·
"Hey! Why are you staring at me?"

"Maybe this guy is from Mr. J, and he has taken a fancy to the old company commander."

"roll!"

Sideways, knees slightly bent, elbows resting on the handguard, according to this unique tactical aiming posture, the bald-headed senior officer recognized one of the masked men, knelt down, and raised his hands.

"Johnny Blazer...is that you?"

"Who is this guy? He was recognized even with his face covered."

"The old company commander used to be on TV all the time, and the posture of holding a gun was spread too widely."

"That's not the case... wait, I see."

Johnny Blazer examined the bald man, trying to remember what he looked like when he was young.

"Gates Schull, who served in the CIA-SAD unit."

·
"Wow, that's a special operations unit under the CIA (CIA), a more mysterious existence than the Delta Special Forces."

"This army is engaged in some shady 'dirty jobs'." Johnny Blazer stepped forward, holding his bare forehead with the muzzle of a gun:
"Fate, Mr. Gates, it's really a narrow road for enemies. I never thought that we would meet again in this way after more than ten years."

The other party looked particularly embarrassed when he smiled, trembling with fright, and the fat on his chin trembled:
"Hey...It's an honor to meet you, Captain Spartan, hero of the Federation."

"The situation is completely different this time, Mr. Gates. I was the one who was pointed at by the gun last time."

"You were young and ignorant at that time! You adults don't remember villains..."

Gates Schur made a "snap" and twitched his big mouth: "Please show me your hand, the whole family relies on me to support them."

·
"No more beer?"

Johnny Blazer took off his hood, popped a Marlboro in his mouth, and blinked.

"oh oh!"

The middle-aged bald man hurried up and took out the lighter tremblingly. Because his hands were trembling so badly, he rubbed the grinding wheel several times before he lit the cigarette. He was sprayed with smoke head-on.

"The last time we met, I was the one who lit the cigarettes. I still remember that your cow beer can be beaten 78 times, but you can't hang it."

"Crack!" The bald man slapped himself again, leaving fingerprints on his fair skin: "I was wrong, I was young and ignorant at the time."

"Are you sensible now?"

"A few years ago, I sat in the office, looking at documents, stamping and so on. Now the CIA-SAD unit is commanded by newcomers."

"Hey, that's a good lick. You've sneaked into the upper echelons. It's rare that you haven't forgotten me, the little company commander."

"Don't dare to forget! Dare not to forget!"

·
"I said, old company commander, why are you talking nonsense with this idiot?"

Oleg asked with a puzzled look on his face, "The people invited to this birthday party are all criminals and criminals! Don't ask, it's all over with a single shot."

"Oleg, take a closer look at this guy."

"I have no impression..."

"He has undergone plastic surgery, changed his name, lost his aquiline nose and wide face, and usually wears a wig, but he didn't wear it today for fun, but you must be familiar with this pair of blue-green pupils. "

Sergeant Oleg took off his headgear and came over. He was puzzled at first, then became angry, excited, and kicked on the shoulder.

"Finally...God has eyes!

Ryan Eilson!Got you! "

The bald man trembled like chaff, not daring to look directly at him.