116, coyote's scalpel

Santo Domingo, Medellin, Colombia.

The sudden heavy rain in the early morning washes the city like a landscape painting, the heavy rain stops in the morning, the sun jumps out from the top of the mountain, the red houses crowded from the foot of the mountain to the top of the mountain are very beautiful between the sun and the landscape, the doors and windows of every house are open, the children roll up their trousers and wear water shoes on the way to school, a few bored idlers are swaying the streets with fierce faces, I don't know who is playing loud music, and the air is filled with the pungent smell of chili peppers.

Coyotes carry backpacks and take a cable car down the hillside, one end of the cable car is connected to the subway station, which is the daily transportation of more than 200,000 residents in this criminal area, and the police rarely come in, let alone ordinary people and tourists, so the coyote's outfit is not eye-catching, wearing a peaked cap on short hair, the beard on the chin has grown half an inch long in a few days, dark skin and a large pair of sunglasses, a dress that looks simple, and can be regarded as blending into the crowd of people who ride the cable car together.

It took two minutes for the coyote to walk from the cable car station to the subway entrance, and the weather forecast said that it would rain at any time, and most of the pedestrians on the road were in a hurry, some with umbrellas and some wearing raincoats. The moment he strode into the subway entrance, he took the opportunity to glance behind him and found that two people in raincoats were running through the intersection about 20 meters away from the subway entrance, and a dilapidated Fiat made a sharp turn at the intersection and honked loudly behind them, but the two guys turned a deaf ear and still crossed the road quickly and walked towards the subway entrance.

That's them.

In the early hours of the morning, he received a text message from Mo Lei, in which he told him that he was targeted as soon as he got off the plane in Garascar, and told the coyote to be careful. But neither of them was able to contact Warcraft, because only he knew where Warcraft went.

Two men in raincoats walked behind the coyote, one of them quickly overtook the coyote and bought a ticket at the ticket window, then the coyote walked over and bought a ticket to the terminal as well, he took off his hat as if nothing happened, reached out and rubbed the messy hair on the top of his head, and strode to the platform. He stood close to the tracks, standing in a row with a dozen people, waiting for the next subway to arrive.

A cool wind is starting to blow in the tunnel on the left, indicating that the subway is almost there. The coyote raised his hand and put on his hat, and looked left and right, and saw that the two guys in raincoats were not far from him, but they both took off their raincoats and held them in their hands, revealing their dry shirts and coats inside.

He took a few steps towards the side of the platform, giving himself a chance to get on the train first. And the staircase on the left was checked again to make sure no one else had followed. Then he casually looked to the right, and at the same time, the subway had appeared in the tunnel on the left.

They're still there, those two guys. Although the two of them seemed to be strangers to each other, the coyote knew that these two guys were here to follow him, and at this moment they both approached him with a cold face.

The coyote calculated in his heart, he knew that the illusion he created seemed to give the other party a chance, as long as they pushed lightly behind him, they could kill themselves, and he was almost sure - even if they didn't receive the order to kill themselves, but Mo Lei killed their three companions in the early morning, then it was very likely that the order had been changed next-kill himself, kill Mo Lei's companions.

The coyote turned back to face the track, at this time the subway was still 40 meters away from the platform, and was rapidly approaching from left to right, and the coyote suddenly jumped from the platform to the track more than a meter below.

All the passengers waiting on the platform screamed.

In front of the high-speed subway, the coyote walked briskly across the tracks, a black fence with a chain link separating the eastbound and westbound lines, and he had to turn to the other side before the subway passed. He leaped up from the edge of the fence, hoisted himself with his injured arm, and climbed onto the fence with both legs.

At the same time, the subway screeched behind him, the edge of the first carriage slid over his right foot, he felt as if his heel had been hit by a racket, and then he tumbled off the top of the fence, landing on his hands and knees on the other side of the track.

At this moment, like a prey exposed to a shotgun, he looked up and met the glare of another subway headlight, and although it was far away, it was speeding from west to east. He could hear a lot of people screaming on the platform next to him. The coyote stood up, noticed that the heel that had been grazed was fine, and jumped directly from one side of the track to the other to the platform.

He tried to prop himself up before the subway arrived, but the muscles in both of his arms were shaking from the fighting and injuries he had received, and he couldn't grasp the floor above him with too much physical strength.

You won't die here!

He smiled bitterly in his heart, if he hadn't killed someone, he wouldn't have gotten out and gone to Garaska, and the two guys behind him, the coyotes would gouge out their hearts.

"Be careful."

Two young men in jerseys came to his rescue from the platform, knelt on the side of the platform, grabbed the coyote by the collar, and pulled it upwards to drag the coyote's body up the track. The two children were burly and strong, and looked much more powerful than coyotes. The coyote had planned to cooperate with his own efforts, but the two men simply lifted him up one by one, and the three of them pounced on the platform.

Five seconds later, the subway filled the empty seat that had just been vacated by the coyote's body.

The coyote rolled over and lay on his back on the smooth floor, the two young men who had almost touched the mechanism of the scalpel on his wrist when they held his wrist, and he was now trying to get back to his original form.

The two men who pulled him up slapped him rudely on the shoulder, and the coyote lay on the ground and self-deprecatingly muttered in Spanish, "You're old." Two people laughed, and then another lifted the coyote up from the ground.

An old lady who looked to be 100 years old pointed an umbrella at the coyote in the face and angrily rebuked him, to the effect that you are a man who looks very smart, how can you be like this, God forbid you did not die here.

The coyote smiled at the old lady, with what he thought was the warmest expression.

There were people next to him who shouted at him to be stupid, he didn't care, and looked at the platform opposite, the two guys were still standing on the platform, and the unkindness in their eyes was like a sword out of the sheath.

The coyote gave them a cryptic middle finger, then turned to thank the two young men who had rescued him. After that, he poured onto the subway with the others.

Four minutes later, the coyote got off at the next stop, he looked at the time, 8.09 points, fortunately, there were still twelve and a half hours left before his plane. This is a time reserved for yourself. After receiving a call from Mo Lei in the early morning, he temporarily changed his ticket, changed his previous identity information, and changed the place of departure to Bucaramanga Airport.

There's still plenty of time to get out of here.

An hour later, the coyote appeared at the Medellín airport, and he took a turn around the lobby to relax and recover his sore arms. There didn't seem to be any suspicious characters as far as the eye could see, and after he rechecked the time, he planned to change his image, and in 10 minutes, a car would pick him up and rush to Bucaramanga airport.

Deftly avoiding the camera, he walked into the restroom near the gate in the airport lobby, and after the coyote checked to make sure that the restroom was empty, he took out his passport and looked at the photo on it. After that, I took off my coat, took out a small plastic bag from the pocket of the jacket lining, took out a denture belt from it, and then took out a small black piece of about 2 mm, and was about to stick it to my face when the toilet door opened.

A middle-aged man in a yellow airport work jacket and pants of the same color walked in from outside, he looked at the coyote standing in front of the washbasin, his eyes were indifferent, and then he walked to the urination and began to reach his waist with his hands, as if to untie his belt.

The coyote held the small black object between his fingers, as if he was extremely tired, rubbed his hands on his face, and then when the middle-aged man's pistol was halfway pulled out from his waist, the coyote rubbed himself like a tiger and pounced, and the tip of the knife on both wrists cut the throat of the middle-aged man, and the other cut on the wrist of the middle-aged man holding the gun.

The blade flashed on the coyote's wrist and then retracted, he held the middle-aged man's body with both hands, quickly dragged the corpse into the toilet cubicle and sat on the toilet, and then pulled out the pistol on the corpse's waist three or two times, unloaded it all and threw it into the toilet, hung up the jump lock of the toilet door and exited by himself, and then closed the door, the jump lock in the door 'clicked', the coyote pushed the door with dark force, and after confirming that it was locked, he turned around and walked back to the washstand.

What the do you think we don't kill?

It's endless.

He stood at the sink, checked his clothes, and after making sure there was no blood, he sped up his makeup. Half a minute passed, and he put his coat on his body and looked at himself in the mirror—a man who was very different from his original appearance, with a dark spot on his face, and a big bucktooth, smiling at him in the mirror.

He thought for a moment, pulled out a pair of black-rimmed glasses from his backpack, put them on, stuffed his original hat into his backpack, and strode out of the bathroom.

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