The beautiful daily life of Black Light Salted Fish

Ophelia soon found out why John Garrett had come to the Balkans.

Romania.

It really has something to do with myself.

The village castle, mold, fungal roots, biochemical monsters and earthquakes, the noise made by Miss Watson at that time was eventually leaked out. However, the place was not top-secret in the first place. After all, Albert Wesker had quickly brought people to the scene at that time. Now it’s just a Hydra added... I don’t know if the name Miss Watson gave herself, Altria Pendragon, out of her middle school syndrome, will be taken seriously.

On the other hand, it is said that SHIELD is also involved, and various forces including the federal military have also sent people, which can be regarded as half an event to rob Umbrella's legacy. It is not surprising that Garrett is concerned about this. His greatest desire is to stay alive, and he will not miss any hope of healing his body.

This shows that this person came to her for other purposes, such as to see if she still had some special strengthening potions. However, given John Garrett's past performance, Ophelia had no intention of establishing a real cooperative relationship with him. At best, she could use him.

In any case, things in Bratislava have come to a temporary end.

Next we headed to the Russian border.

Before leaving Bratislava, Watson used Jessica Drew's voice to call his agent Frey in London. The other end was like crazy. He had never heard Frey shout so loudly. Watson spent more time with Alesha recently, and he felt like he was coaxing a child. The call lasted for more than an hour.

He even had to make up a travel story to stop Frey from reciting the critics' comments.

Just think of it as describing shopping and sightseeing with Alesha.

Ms. Drew's albums are selling well in the UK, and the overseas cooperative sales channels that were negotiated earlier have also been rolled out, and are in full swing. According to Frey's description, there is a great hope that he will win several music awards in the UK this year, and it is not impossible to be nominated for a Grammy; and as for the profit share, he really should hire a private accountant.

Then once on the plane, Watson put the matter aside.

Ghost was not clear in the text message; he was more concerned about what happened to his old teammate Beltway.

Watson looked out the window.

Snow-capped peaks intertwined, and going down one level, one could see green grass covering the ground, which together with the fog covering the mountains formed a magnificent view. Even through several layers of glass, he could feel the cold wind blowing on his face, which was very similar to the scene when he was in Kamar-Taj.

But it's not the Himalayas down there.

This is the area on the northern side of the Caucasus Mountains.

North Ossetia-Ingushetia-Chechnya border.

The area north of the Caucasus Mountains basically belongs to Russian territory, forming an insurmountable barrier between the Black Sea and the Caspian Sea. The Republic of North Ossetia-Alania, the Republic of Ingushetia and the Republic of Chechnya all belong to the Russian Federation.

In the first Chechen war that started in 1994, Chechnya gained de facto temporary independence by defeating the Russian army's offensive. The two sides continued to clash until the second Chechen war in late 1999, when the regrouped Russian army basically achieved its strategic goals and restored the Russian Federation's control over Chechnya. However, even so, a large number of extreme separatist groups and insurgents are still roaming around, and terrorist attacks against Russia have never stopped.

To put it another way, there are many local warlords.

The prospects of the arms market here are much bigger than those in Sokovia.

A deafening roar rang in his ears. He was sitting in an An-2 transport plane at this time. The cold wind blowing on his face was not an illusion, but this old old plane was really leaking air everywhere. When he saw it for the first time, Watson doubted whether this thing could still fly. Was it usually covered with a waterproof cloth and exposed to the wind and rain, and pulled out to tinker with the engine when there was business?

It's like a half-dead tractor.

There was also this fat old uncle driver, holding the joystick with one hand and a bottle of vodka with the other.

Fortunately, the engine noise is loud enough.

Otherwise you would hear him humming a song.

There are also many mountains in the north of the Caucasus Mountains. Although the height is not as high as the former, the terrain is complex enough, with a large drop. The An-2 flew very low, and Watson was afraid that the pilot would crash into the mountain after drinking too much. The plane was so winding that if it was a passenger who was airsick, he would probably die on the spot. Anyway, he experienced the style of the Slavic pilot today.

After continuing to pan for half an hour, the plane landed on an unpaved road in a flat open space on the side of a hillside. Looking from this height, the mountains, grasslands and woods brought a completely different scenery. This reminded Watson of a food show he had watched before, where a Russian uncle roasted a whole lamb on a green grass hillside, and the background was exactly the same as what he saw in front of him.

It's just that the equally old propeller planes and cars around it ruin the beauty.

"Hey! Pretty boy!"

Ghost stood beside a jeep and waved. His hair was a little messy and his chin was covered with stubble. "I thought it would take two years before I could see you. Look at you. You look like a rich young man who ran away from home and chose the wrong place for vacation. Haha!"

"Come on, you're at it again." Watson rolled his eyes and carried the suitcase and the ammunition box to the car. Ghost didn't reach out to take them. He had experienced the great strength of this pretty boy, so he simply put his hands in his pockets and followed behind him: "You didn't come here just to visit me and Fatty, did you?"

"really......"

After stuffing the suitcase and the ammunition box, Watson looked around and said, "I've accepted the mission. I'm here to kill a few people."

"Yo?"

The man sat in the driver's seat and pulled out a bottle of vodka from somewhere. "That's not too far from what I guessed, but I'm really curious, who could have asked you to do it?"

"A beautiful woman."

Watson shrugged, pulling his scarf tighter around his face.

"Ha, women..." Ghost suddenly understood, put the jeep into gear, stepped on the accelerator and drove it onto the road: "You and Bertha broke up?"

"No, we are doing fine. We bought a house in London. But you know, life still requires money. For me, killing people is the fastest and easiest way to make money."

"That is, you can tolerate her quirks."

The ghost shook his head, suddenly remembering something, and turned around with a smirk on his face: "Hey, Rupert kissed both of you at that time. Wasn't Bertha angry after we broke up?"

"Angry." Watson couldn't help but roll his eyes again: "Can we change the subject? I don't want to talk about this."

"Haha, sure!" The man laughed for a while, then said, "You came at a bad time, pretty boy. There are rebels all over this area. The situation is very tense recently. The Russians are also making careful preparations. Maybe they will start fighting again soon."

"This is not my fight. I'm just here to kill a few people, and a volatile situation can create more opportunities." Watson could only reply with one sentence, and then changed the subject. He knew what his old teammate was talking about. In more than half a year, the Second Chechen War would break out, adding new wounds to this already devastated land.

The jeep drove for about ten minutes.

In front of us is a forest bunker, built during the Cold War. The collapse of the Soviet Union turned it into an abandoned building and has now been transformed into a black market for arms and a base for mercenaries. There are many such facilities in and around Russia, which have become the turf of many extremists and rebels, or simply left untouched.

The forest bunker in front of him was nominally a mercenary base, but in fact, a considerable number of personnel were not pure mercenaries, and there were even many Russian agents lurking, just like the central urban area of ​​Vessanico. As soon as he approached the entrance, Watson could feel the hostile scrutiny from all around. Almost everyone held a gun, and there were many small groups lined up in rows.

The most common currency is still the US dollar.

As for Russian rubles, some stores don't even accept them.

Of course, precious metals such as gold are always warmly welcomed wherever they are.

Ghost was a little surprised to learn that Watson didn't bring the Deathstroke armor, but he still accompanied him to buy some necessary equipment. Watson's main weapons this time are the RPK-74 light machine gun and SVD, and there is also a Russian-made KSVK bolt-action anti-material sniper rifle to deal with light armored vehicles that may be encountered.

They also held a shooting competition.

boom! ! !

In the shooting range, the deafening sound of gunfire scared away many animals.

"I can't believe it. It only took 5 seconds and you hit the target?" Ghost put down his gun with a look of emotion. "You know, my impression of your shooting skills is still in Brazil. Watson, you have made great progress. Not everyone can perform like this. You have even surpassed me."

"This is just a fixed target. I need to further improve my ability in shooting long-distance moving targets." Watson pulled the bolt and ejected a shell. "It was too windy on the way here. I didn't ask you what happened to Beltway."

"cancer."

The ghost took a sip of wine and said, "It was probably the first month after the Dutch farewell dinner. He always felt dizzy, so I contacted the hospital for him to get checked out. It turned out that he was in the late stage. Fatty has lost a lot of weight now, and you probably can't recognize him. When you see him later, don't mention cancer. He doesn't like to hear about it. Just talk about something happy."

As he spoke, the jeep drove past the wreckage of a tank on the side of the road.

Watson noticed that several children were climbing up to play, reaching out to pluck the small flowers growing from the cracks in the armor plates, and in the distance, the charred craters looked very abrupt. In this high-latitude area, the sky darkened early, and the cold wind did not affect the children's happy play.

As the scene faded away, snow gradually began to appear on the ground.

Half an hour later, the jeep drove into a village.

Looking at the lighted windows in the snow, Watson suddenly recalled the memory fragments he had extracted from a former Soviet soldier and returned to Christmas of 1991.

Many soldiers lost their faith that day.

What was the ghost doing at the time?

Watson thought it would be better if he didn't ask.

"We're here." Ghost stepped on the brake lightly, turned the steering wheel and drove the jeep into a small courtyard. "We'll stay here when we're not on a mission. Beltway will be in charge of looking after the house. Don't worry. Everyone in the village knows how powerful the bombs he makes are. No one will have the guts to bully him."

As the man was talking, Watson had already turned his head to look out the car window.

A figure stood at the door.

The once chubby face was now so thin that the outline of the cheekbones was revealed, and the nasolabial folds on both sides of the nose were noticeably deepened. His eyes were half-closed, and even though there was still spirit in his face, it was not difficult to feel that his entire facial features revealed a sense of death, exactly the same as the terminally ill cancer patients he had seen in his previous life.