"What makes you think I slept with her?"

"You're standing there this afternoon doing mouth-to-mouth artificial respiration."

"You're stalking me?"

"It's not that hard. You've broken so many rules that I have to do it...... From the smell of wine in your mouth, I can tell that you drank with them before I came. ”

"I want them to feel more comfortable with me."

"Money," said bronze, "is only money that makes them feel comfortable, not your charming personal charm." It's a deal, not a social club. Also, what do you mean by 'disposal'? ”

"'Disposition'? I don't remember saying that—"

"To me, you're actually hinting to outsiders that the person we're tracking down will be ......" Despite the low voice and the hidden nature of the alley, Bronze kept himself under control and didn't say the word that would give the man a handle.

"Final veto."

"What?"

Isn't that a new euphemism? What used to be 'the end with extreme damage' is now the 'final veto'. ”

"Where the hell did you hear that—"

"Isn't this the purpose of this operation? If no one stops them completely, these mongrels will continue to assassinate like this. ”

Bronze turned and peered out of the dark alley at the brightly lit pedestrians, lest anyone overhear their conversation. "Are you crazy? Have you ever told anyone what you just said to me? ”

Ryan hesitated.

"The woman?" Bronze asked, "You told the woman?" ”

"Yes, I have to tell her about it, otherwise how am I going to convince them to do it?"

"Hey, I'm convinced, I'm really convinced, little brother." Bronze sighed softly.

"This severance is possible. I have pretended to be a hostile force. They got rid of the gang and then called the police, claiming to be 'enemies of the Japanese'. ”

"Damn, lower your voice."

"No one can prove that we have anything to do with it."

"That woman can prove it." Bronze said.

"She couldn't, and when I disappeared, she didn't have any concrete evidence."

"She knows your name."

"All she knows is my name." Ryan said, "She loves me. She would do anything for me. ”

"You-" Bronze pressed over Ryan in the darkness to make sure he was the only one who could hear his vicious whisper. "Listen carefully to me, the Chongqing government is not involved in the assassination. And the U.S. government does not hunt down terrorists, but collects and accumulates evidence for the court to sentence them. ”

"It has nothing to do with us what other people do. That operation was later aborted because they killed an innocent person. That's why we don't carry out assassinations. ”

"Okay. But now listen to me," said Bronze, "if these bastards are allowed to escape because we don't have the guts to do what we ought to do, we'll both lose the chance at this operation." ”

"Tomorrow at noon."

"What?"

"Go back to your apartment, stay there and don't come out." "Don't do anything, and don't contact that woman." Don't come out and buy newspapers. Don't do anything. At exactly 12 o'clock, I'll knock on your door and tell you about the decision you've made. If I were you, I would pack my bags. ”

In the room, Bronze said to himself, Happy 40th birthday.

The haggard look on his face in the bathroom mirror showed that he had slept poorly that night because he was worried about Ryan's business. The fatigue of the journey and the cold caused his headache to subside. Last night's supper delivered to his room was a Western meal, lasagna, chicken and white wine from Marsala, which was still stuck in his stomach. A few wrinkles began to appear in the corners of his alert eyes, which seemed to add a bit of fortitude to his rugged face.

As if that weren't enough, he found a strand of gray hair in his slightly longer hair. He muttered and unplugged them.

For most people, Saturday morning is the start of the weekend, but not for those who do what he does. He can't even recall the last time he had a real weekend and felt light-hearted. Somehow, he remembered following Ryan down the Spanish steps, past which house.

He felt like he needed to take some time off.

Bronzer put on a tight-fitting outfit, tried his best to ignore the mist caused by car exhaust on the road, avoided the crowds on the sidewalk, and ran to the foreign store where he had gone to get his gun the day before. He was pleased with the twists and turns of his course, which made it impossible for anyone to follow him.

After presenting the token, he was let into an office with an anti-bugging phone fitted with a scrambler. Five minutes later, he reported to his supervisor in the mountain city of Chongqing in front of the radio.

The 15-minute exchange of messages made Bronze more and more frustrated. He learned that Ryan's father had heard about his plans, and perhaps Ryan had reported to his father late last night (Bronze could only hope that Ryan was using those Belarusian-Russian radios, and that he was more cautious in sending them).

Not only was his father a legend in the intelligence industry, but he also served as chairman of the National Security Council and still has a lot of political influence, and Ryan's father questioned Bronze's ability to do his job, accusing Bronze of trying to transfer Ryan away in order to take credit for Ryan's clues.

Although Bronze's boss claims that he personally sided with Bronze in the conflict between Bronze and Ryan, the fact is that he is forced to ignore Bronze's warnings out of self-interest and continue to keep Ryan at his post. "Take care of this child," said the boss, "and don't let him make a mistake." Check the rest of the information in his report. We will pass this information on to the Public Concession authorities, and then we will withdraw both of you. I promise you that I will never let you work with him again. ”

"That's what I'm worried about right now."

Bronze ran all the way back to the hotel, but he couldn't alleviate his frustration. He spread a towel on the floor of his guest room and did 150 push-ups in a row, followed by the same number of sit-ups. Sweat dripped from his sturdy shoulders, narrow hips, and muscular legs. He practiced a few more judo moves, then took a shower, changed into clean pants and shirts, and finally put on a work jacket to cover the pistol on his waist. His stomach was still upset.

At the scheduled time, Bronze knocked on Ryan's door at 12 noon sharp.

No one agreed.

The bronze knocked again, frowned and waited for a while, then knocked a third time, and waited a little longer, and the brow furrowed even tighter. He glanced at both ends of the hallway, pulling out the lockpicking tool hidden in the collar of his jacket. Ten seconds later, he burst into the apartment, closed the door behind him, and pulled out his pistol. Did Ryan break his appointment, or did something happen to him? Bronze began to search carefully and carefully.

There is no one in the living room, no one in the bathroom, no one in the kitchen, no one in the bedroom, no one in the closet. Bronze hates the closet the most - who knows what will be hidden in it. He felt his chest suffocated, and after the search, he sat down on a sofa chair in the living room, thinking about what might happen. Everything in the apartment is neatly arranged, but what does that prove? Ryan might be in trouble somewhere. Perhaps, it occurred to Bronze once again that this dog mongrel had missed the appointment.

While waiting, Bronze searched Ryan's apartment again. This time he searched more closely. He searched the inside, underneath, and back of every drawer, under and under the mattress, behind the daychair and couch, inside and behind the lampstand, and the bathroom cistern.

He was shocked by the results of the search. Not only did Ryan not destroy his records when he presented the report, but he hid them in a place that wasn't hard to predict—under paper mats on kitchen shelves. In addition to the list of the people Ryan had seen the night before, he found a number of addresses, one of which was the apartment building that Ryan had entered with Renata, and the other was a place called the Tiber Club.

Bronze memorized this information in his mind, put the records in a tray, burned them and crushed the ashes into shreds. He looked out of the kitchen window and saw the brick wall of an alley, and took advantage of the breeze to spill the paper ashes. His stomach was very hungry. He cut a piece from a loaf of bread and took it back to the living room, chewing slowly while frowning at the front door of the apartment.

It was already 3 o'clock in the afternoon, and the worry in Bronze's heart was getting stronger and stronger. What should he do, he thought? He could go back to the foreign bank and send a telegram to his supervisor there, informing him that Ryan had not met on time. But what could it do other than make the supervisor think that he was bent on getting Ryan into trouble?

This guy is doing his job so-so - he has already reported the problem himself. So, isn't it possible that Ryan forgot the date or deliberately missed it? Maybe he's lying on the bed with Renata in his arms right now.

Bronze thought, if that were the case, he would be much smarter than me. When was the last time I was lying in bed with someone in my arms? He couldn't remember. He travels all year round, and has very few close friends of the opposite sex, and they are all in his business. A casual girlfriend is simply impossible - even before the dirty disease spreads, Bronze has always avoided the life of a couple who dew overnight. His theory was that while that kind of thing made people let their guard down, it didn't make sense to let their guard down when they were with a woman they didn't know anything about.

Bronze thought, this ghost work, it not only makes you paranoid, but also turns you into a monk.

He looked around the dreary living room, a musty smell piercing his nostrils. His stomach was still upset.

He said to himself, Happy Birthday.

It wasn't until Bronze had eaten up everything he could eat in the apartment that the sound of a key twisting sounded in the keyhole. It was nearly 9 p.m. Ryan rushed in panting, stunned at the sight of bronze.

"Close the door." Bronze said.

"How did you—"

"We have a date, remember? Shut the door. ”

Ryan closed the door. "Didn't tell you? Could it be that my father—"

"Yes, he sent me a message, but that doesn't seem to be a reason to cancel our date." Bronze stood up. "Where the hell have you been?"

"You don't know?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Didn't you follow me?"

"Let's be clear."

Ryan rushed to a radio and turned on the radio. "There are reporters from three radio stations on the scene, and there must be a channel that is still reporting from the scene—" he dialed back and forth as his hands trembled. "Look."

Bronze didn't understand what he was hearing at first. He listened carefully, and a sense of foreboding rushed over him.

"What's going on? For God's sake, what is going on? ”

Before Ryan could reply, a reporter on the radio began to talk about terrorists and the worst incident of anti-American and anti-Western violence to date. Twenty-three Americans were killed and 43 others injured in the explosion, all members of several chambers of commerce, who were attending a banquet at the Tiber Club to celebrate their last night in Shanghai.

"Tiber Club?" Bronze remembered the address he had in mind.

"Renata told me that terrorists go there a lot." Ryan's face turned pale. She told me that the plan was foolproof and could not go wrong. This shouldn't have ended this way! Renata swore to me—"

"Don't be verbose," Bronze grabbed Ryan's shoulder. "Tell me, what the hell did you do?"

"Last night," Ryan paused, taking a few breaths, "after the meeting, after our argument," his chest heaved, "I know I don't have much time left before you take command of my operations and steal my credit." ”

"Do you really believe those bastard words you told your father? Do you really think I'm jealous of you? ”

"I had to take action. I'm not sure that the telegram I called my father would solve the problem. Renata and I have been working on a plan, a plan that works flawlessly. After I broke up with you, I went back to the café. Renata and the others were still in the private rooms upstairs, and we decided to put the plan into action. ”

"It's not approved." Bronze was taken aback.

"Shall I go to you for approval? You're going to tell me not to take action. You're going to find a way to get me out of here, and you're going to carry out the plan yourself. ”

"I'm running out of patience." Bronze said. On the radio, the announcer portrayed the scene as hell on earth.

"Tell me about this plan, this so-called flawless plan."

"It's a simple and brilliant plan."

"Hmph, I believe that."

Bronze said with a huff.

。