The priest was still very imposing, and when he was wearing a black suit and pointing a gun at the Mexican, he still had the demeanor of a big brother in the river.

Call.

The wind blew in the Gobi at night, and the priest's tie fluttered with the wind, and at that time, Evan Basdell still had a fierce face on his face, and he could still see the ferocity of fighting in the rivers and lakes and rising in the streets.

What he wants is lost face.

Catch the bald head, kill him, and get back face, in that case, when you go back to Montek, he will still be a glamorous priest, because he is still alive, but his killer is dead.

So, he brought with him three men, one of whom was a newly promoted black man, and the other two, men who had been with the priest for four or five years and who were no strangers to shooting and killing.

The night was low, and the yellow sand in the wind brought a solemn atmosphere.

It's a good place to kill people, at least they won't cause other people's ideas, no neighbors will report it, and there won't be helicopters and searchlights chasing overhead, as in New York and Los Angeles.

Evan Busdell pointed his pistol at the Mexican's head: "Last chance, after killing you, we will drive back and waste some gas at most!" ”

The Mexicans just bowed their heads and convulsed, their snot and saliva sticking together, and when a mortal man behaved like this in such a situation, it was probably because he regretted that his death was meaningless and wanted to live.

Touch.

The first gunshot of the night rang out, and in the wilderness it spread out around the priest.

The Mexican fell, his gaze staring at the sky, blood gushing from the gunshot wound on his chest in the darkness of the night, and the white T-shirt on his body, stained with yellow sand, was once again occupied with a dark red, a color that the T-shirt had not had at the moment it was sent out of the factory.

Evan had to shoot it, he had to prove to his men that the priest wasn't old, that he could kill when he was supposed to kill, and that he could still hold the black neighborhood when he should have come forward.

"Go back."

There is no softness, and after killing people, he will never leave too many expressions except for fierceness, and the priest tries his best to maintain his image.

There is a very philosophical saying that fits the priest very well, that is, no matter how well a person is disguised, the aspect that is disguised will always be his most lacking.

Turning around, the priest found that he was old, and his heart was beating wildly when he killed, and no matter how much he suppressed it, he felt that his heart was about to burst through his chest.

This is not a bodily reaction without reason, if the Mexican sues him for the position of the bald killer, then tonight will be a fight to the death, on the contrary, after the priest has killed two people, what awaits him will be even bloodier revenge, and even now it is certain that the revenge will be more brutal than the last street shootout.

As an old man, he no longer has the fearless heroism of his youth, and he has enough money to live a leisurely life on the beach in Hawaii, so why should he die in a street scuffle? Why do you have to control the black quarter of Montek?

The priest figured it out, and he was leaving Montek.

Father, the man who ruled the black section, the man who even Omar had to bow down, the TT gang who had not been able to make him bow his head, the man who had not frightened him several times by the Mexicans, was going to run away!

Or run away without knowing exactly how this battle will turn out.

At this time, the priest was taken aback by his own thoughts, the thoughts in his mind appeared too unreasonable, didn't he lose yet?

Until this second, the black men who were following the priest and turned around to walk in the direction of the car did not know what Evan was thinking.

Woo.

The wind continued to blow, and the light from the headlights of the car could clearly see the yellow sand in the wind, and at the same time, behind the dirt bag not far away, two figures were rapidly approaching, unfortunately, the distance was less than thirty meters.

The sound of footsteps on the yellow sand kept sounding, and the two men did not stride forward, but moved forward in small steps with their pistols, and when they were only a dozen meters away from the priest, the black man next to the priest glanced back.

Because the sound of footsteps is becoming more and more obvious, the distance of more than ten meters is enough to make the light footsteps become eye-catching on such a night.

Touch.

Another gunshot rang out.

Ping.

The roof of the car in front of the black man suddenly sparked www.biquge.info, and he was startled by the effect of the bullet grazing in the high-speed rotation.

When he looked back closely, he saw a small Mexican behind him with a pistol aimed at him, and in the afterglow, there was a bald head that was more attractive than the small Mexican.

“FUC……”

Touch.

The black man didn't even curse the second gunshot, this time, the little Mexican was not a gun that did not adjust his breathing in the small broken run, the moment the black man was frightened, he immediately made up the second shot, this shot, the hand frame was steady, both feet stepped on the yellow sand on the ground, and the whole person was on the wrist of the gunman with the other hand before shooting in a standing position.

He's left-handed.

The black man was hit, and this shot hit him as if he had been punched in the chest, and his entire upper body slammed backwards, before he could make a second move......

Touch.

Two more gunshots.

Kurotsu was hit continuously, and he shook his body from side to side from the two shots, and finally lost his balance and fell to the ground.

Four shots were fired in less than two seconds, and after the gunshots, the black man with the MP5 in his hand was dead, his left and right chests were pierced, and one shot hit the liver.

The priest and the other three black men made a humiliating gesture at the same second as the gunshot, and the first reaction of those who survived the street fight was the squatting, squatting with their hands raised and swooping their buttocks forward when the gunshot was fired.

The man who escaped was the priest, who had taken four steps in two seconds and ran forward with all his might, reaching the gap between the front of the two cars.

Touch.

The bald head next to the little Mexican fired, also a dozen meters away, and with a single gun, he hit another black man in the back of the heart with the first shot, this man had just killed a Mexican who was almost made into a roast suckling pig, and at this second, he was knocked down by a single shot.

The bald head was very confident, and when the opponent was frightened by the gunfire of his companion and curled his body down, he knew that these guys would definitely die here, because these guys had not undergone any training, and after facing the sudden gunshots, the knee-jerk reaction was not to fight back but to panic.

In the blink of an eye, two black men died, and these two black men didn't even have the consciousness to fight back in their minds!

However, the last black man finally reacted after the two companions fell, and with a desperate vigor with a little bit of street cruelty, he raised his gun at the bald head at the moment of life and death, this time the bald head was not as fast as him, at least the muzzle of the gun had not moved.

Win?

It's too early.

The bald head chose to fall to one knee almost the moment the black man's muzzle was aimed at him, so that the black man's newly raised muzzle immediately lost its target. The black man knew that he had to adjust the muzzle of the gun, but he had already seen the bald head raise the gun before the muzzle was adjusted, and at that second, the black man panicked, and he chose to shoot before it was adjusted.

Touch!

At the moment when the gunfire shook the night, the bald head had already won, and his excellent psychological element made him not make any dodge movements when the gun rang out, but blinked vigorously when the gunfire came out, and at the same time firmly believed that the black man must have adjusted the muzzle of the gun crookedly.

The bald head is gambling with this black man, a special forces soldier who has really experienced the rain of bullets on the battlefield uses his experience of seeing countless deaths on the battlefield and gambling with the black man.

The black man's shot was missed, and the bullet smashed a cloud of dust not far behind the bald head.

Touch.

Touch.

The bald head seized the opportunity to shoot calmly, and fired three more shots in succession, each shot only after the bullet had been fired, and the pistol recovered from the recoil of upward inertia before the trigger was pulled again.

The last living black man fell, one shot in the head and two in the back, first two in the back of the man who was squatting in fright, and the last one in the back of the head.

There were no mistakes.

At this moment, the priest who had reached the front of the two cars had planned to let the people behind him support him for a while, at least until he opened the door, and at that time, he swore that he would start the car as soon as possible, turn around, and never pay attention to what happened in the town of Montek again, and press the accelerator until the end of the earth.

It's a pity that when the end of the day came, the priest knew that he couldn't escape, the appearance of these two people had sealed his way of life, and those two people did not have the ferocity and youthful fearlessness of the gangsters in the street fight, and the expression on their faces was indifference, numbness to the deprivation of life.

The priest now understands why the people of the rivers and lakes always like to say, 'The rivers and lakes are the rivers and lakes', which is not a pride and grandeur, it is cowardice, and it is a kind of fear that has seen other powerful professions infiltrate the rivers and lakes and set off a bloody storm. The rivers and lakes are the rivers and lakes, and the correct analysis of this sentence should be 'only the rivers and lakes are the rivers and lakes when they face the people of the rivers and lakes'.

"I can give you money!" The priest wanted to say this.

This has become the last talisman: "I can give you ......"

Touch!

Touch!

Touch.

Touch.

Six shots.

The little Mexican and the bald man each fired three shots at Evan Basdell, who had been sitting together on the second floor of a modest house in the black neighborhood a few days earlier, as if they were already dead at that time.

The priest, who used to be very beautiful, was almost beaten twice in the middle of two cars not far apart before he fell to his knees, and the moment he fell with his head up, his feet changed from a kneeling posture to a backward and parted life.

The priest was dead, and he knew that even if he still had a little consciousness in his mind at the moment, the control of his body was constantly passing, and after a second, he couldn't even move his fingers.

At that time, the only thing the priest could remember was that when he first became a member of the gang forty years ago, a black girl had slept with him because he was a bad boy, and the voice of this image was the words he had said before his first boss was shot and died in his hospital bed: "When you want to leave the gang, you will find that it is too late to be a member of the gang and bring your first happiness in this capacity." ”

The priest's eyelids blinked slowly, slowly, again, and after a moment, the face was frozen forever.

The bald head walked over, first stepped on the priest's gun-wielding hand, then raised his hand and forced it at the priest's head and fired another shot.

"Look for what to eat."

After the bald head said this to the little Mexican, he took out his mobile phone and dialed a phone number: "The priest is dead." There was no concern in his words.

PS: 3,000 words written for a night, I guess I'm the only one who coaxes. I am afraid that I will not be able to get up after noon, and I will get up tomorrow to change the typos and subtle mistakes, but I just hope that I will not be disappointed at noon.