"Name? Affiliation? Posts? ”

Still in the basement of the CIA's secret contact point in Benghazi, Miller, whose limbs were chained to an iron chair, was covered in various duct tapes and wires on his head, chest, and left index finger.

Miller knew that this was a polygraph, and the other party must know their name and position, as long as they answered the other party's questions, they could collect their own body data according to their own brain waves, blood pressure, heartbeat, etc.

Looking at the stainless steel torture equipment in the other party's hand, Miller still chose to be silent. The result of answering or not answering is almost the same for him now, even if he honestly confesses everything now, the torture that should be used on him will not be less, and he has seen too much, too many such interrogations in his career of more than 20 years.

Koboyev, with his feet crossed on the table, looked at the information in his hand and threw a boning knife up and down in one hand, and said, "It's okay, you can stay silent until you are willing to speak." As he spoke, Koboyev turned his head and looked at the subordinate beside him and said, "Stupid bird, let him try your craft, be careful not to kill him, he is the head of the CIA in Libya." ”

"How about a one-on-one fair exchange?" The silent Miller finally spoke.

To be honest, in the face of the impending torture, even Miller, who was ready to be a martyr, trembled in his heart. One of the courses during the CIA internship was torture, which is really not the kind of torture that ordinary people can endure (Miller, who has had many interrogation experiences, knows that the internship class is completely different from a real trial). Miller, who still kept a cool head, knew that he would definitely confess in the end, so it was better to try to exchange information with his opponent, at least to know who had arrested him.

Hearing Miller's question, Koboyev, who had been staring at the information with his eyes, finally reacted, and he nodded with interest as he sat up straight with his feet and said, "I accept your proposal, Koboyev, KGB (the English abbreviation of KGB), with the rank of lieutenant colonel, is in charge of intelligence in the Libyan region." ”

Of course, Koboyev, who had an absolute advantage, dared to divulge his own information, and besides, this was one of the tasks assigned by his superiors.

"Miller, CIA, head of Libya." Hearing Koboyev's words, Miller, who had already guessed that the other party might be someone from the KGB, also truthfully explained his situation.

Koboyev, who casually threw the information on the table, stood up with a sneer, and after observing the polygraph next to him for a while, he said, "It's my turn!" What are you doing in Benghazi? Who is the yellow race that came with you? ”

"Lieutenant Colonel Koboyev, we don't have to go around in circles, I don't believe who he is, you don't know, the information on the table is Hou Wenjun's. As for what we're here for? I think you should be aware of that too. Miller, whose limbs are chained, is at a disadvantage, but he still retains the pride of being a CIA intelligence officer.

Koboyev, who was still observing the polygraph, glanced at the document on the table and said, "You are very smart, that is indeed Hou Wenjun's information." Last question, what is the relationship between Hou Wenjun and your CIA? Is he an informant you can? ”

Hearing Koboyev's questioning, Miller suddenly felt a little inexplicable. Hou Wenjun is a member of their CIA? What the hell, where did the Soviets find such unreliable information? How rare is this person really an intelligence officer who organizes the development of the Asian region? Otherwise, the U.S. government's arms deal needs a private company as a third party? That's not right, there is no reason for such a billionaire to work for the CIA?

"Rapid heartbeat, rising blood pressure, chaotic brain waves, Miller, what are you thinking?" Koboyev, who had been watching the polygraph screen, looked at the slightly accelerated heartbeat, the slightly rising blood pressure, and the very active brain waves, and Koboyev felt that things were getting more and more interesting.

"No, he's not ours." After much thought, Miller answered Koboyev's question in a firm tone.

Looking at the heart rate and blood pressure on the polygraph, which were still above normal levels, Koboyev suddenly pulled out his pistol and pointed it at Miller's forehead and said, "You lied, Mr. Miller. ”

Being held to the forehead at gunpoint is not a friendly experience, and the person with the gun is a hostile agent who kills people without blinking. Miller, who hurried to death more and more, was a little unsettled. No one wants to die, he has the courage to sacrifice his life for the country once, but he does not have the belief that he can sacrifice his life for the motherland at any time.

"Well, I'm not quite sure if he's one of ours, but I guess he's not from the CIA." Miller said this like a deflated ball, and the pride of the CIA personnel who had supported him in his difficult struggle just now was gone. Miller knew that his defenses had been breached, and it turned out that he remembered his rotten life in Libya.

Koboyev took back his pistol with satisfaction, turned his head to look at the three men in the basement and said, "Okay, the other party is already useless, if you have anything to say, just ask, I think Mr. Miller will answer them for us one by one." With that, Koboyev put his pistol back into the holster at his waist, turned and sat back in his chair.

"Tell me about your staffing in Libya." The young intelligence officer, whom Koboyev called 'stupid bird,' picked up the pen in his hand and began to record as he asked Miller questions.

"We have a total of 35 intelligence officers in Libya, except for this contact point that you attacked, in "Miller always thought that he was the elite of the CIA intelligence officers, until this moment he knew that he had been rotten by life and only had this layer of skin on his body, he had long thought that he was not the young man full of conviction at the beginning.

Time was slipping away bit by bit, and when the stupid bird finished the initial interrogation and was about to do a second interrogation according to the transcript to ensure the consistency of the other party's confession, Koboyev, who had been sitting next to him and reading the information in his hand, suddenly interrupted him and said, "I have a question, Mr. Miller, if I let you go, will you be willing to work for us?" ”

"Kill me." Miller, who had been very cooperative during the interrogation, suddenly became firm again when asked the question. Yes, he can't bear the interrogation, and these things may be confessed sooner or later, but let himself die for the Soviets, Miller is willing to face death.

Hearing Miller's answer, Koboyev suddenly burst out laughing and said, "I think you misunderstood me, Mr. Miller, you can see what this document says first." As he spoke, Koboyev picked up the document in his hand and walked to Miller and spread out the contents of the document in front of Miller's eyes.

This is a document of the asset certificate, a money laundering process document in which a $50 million sum of money was laundered and transferred to the account of a Cayman Islands company. What really surprised Miller was not that the final beneficiary was himself, but that the original transfer of funds was signed by the U.S. Department of Defense Arms Exchange Administration, whose colonel, Gordon, was the head of the bureau.

At this time, Miller was so surprised that he couldn't speak, KGB? The U.S. government? What the hell is going on?

"Boom! Boom! Two scrambles rang out, and the two KGB members in the basement who were involved in the interrogation were suddenly killed by Koboyev's pistol bullets. Koboyev didn't look at the two KGB agents, who had been shot in the head and fell to the ground, and whispered to the stupid bird who was standing aside with the transcripts: "Tidy up the scene." ”

After speaking, Koboyev suddenly turned back to Miller and smiled, "Mr. Miller, I'm not talking about the Soviet Union, but my boss's boss, Mr. Hou Wenjun." (To be continued.) )