"That is, there is no research data on the variant of smallpox virus you mentioned in this hard drive?"

Omir groaned and made his own speculation.

"No!"

Francis said in a very affirmative tone: "It is impossible for our information to be biased this time, there is definitely a research data on the variant smallpox virus in this hard disk!" ”

"Is it possible that someone took the data in it and then erased the read traces of the hard drive?" Omir asked Francis on the phone.

"Theoretically, it's possible." Francis replied.

"I see, I'll keep an eye on them."

With that, Omir hung up the phone.

Omir walked behind his desk, took out a neatly trimmed cigar from the cigarette case on the desk, baked the tobacco with a lighter, lit the cigar smoke, took a deep breath, and exhaled the smoke rings into the air.

Behind the spicy-smelling pale blue smoke, Omir's eyes narrowed slightly, and a chilling cold light burst out from those pale blue eyes, "Stinging Dragon, I really underestimate you!" A cold arrow back then, and now another dragon is sent, you really think of me as a fool! ”

……

Middle East, Country F.

The war has torn the country apart, with more than half of the country's land area in ruins.

Those who were able to leave this place of right and wrong have all fled.

Country F, which once had a prosperous time, has now become a gladiatorial arena for government troops, rebels, and mercenaries. They represent different forces and fight for profit.

A silver Mitsubishi SUV drove quickly along the not-so-spacious street, the body was covered with a thick layer of dust, the yellow dust had almost covered the car's original color, and only a few letters and numbers could be faintly distinguished from the front and rear of the car, and the entire license plate could not be seen.

Behind the Mitsubishi SUV, the wheels kicked up a large cloud of yellow dust, like a small sandstorm.

The town that this Mitsubishi SUV entered was in the war-torn zone, and the residents of the town had long since left, and the town that was once full of people was deserted at this time.

Squeak——!

The silver, no, earthy yellow SUV braked in front of a bar, the wheels dragging two long brake marks on the ground.

The door opened, and a man wearing sand-colored tactical pants and an olive-green tactical shirt got out of the SUV, he covered his mouth and nose with an Arabic scarf and a pair of sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, which almost completely covered his face, but a few strands of blonde hair peeking out from under the Arabic scarf and the raised bridge of his nose still revealed his Caucasian identity.

The 511 desert tactical boots under the man's feet left several non-slip shoe prints on the dry sandy ground.

Whew-

A gust of wind blew the bullet casing of an AK-47 rifle in front of the man.

The man stepped on the bullet, stepped the bullet casing into the dirt, pushed open the door of the bar in front of him, and walked into the bar.

As soon as you enter the bar, the noise is in stark contrast, and the bustle inside the bar is stark to the desolation outside the barrenness.

The bar was full of people, black, white, and yellow, and the bar was more than ten meters long, including people of all colors.

Most of the people in front of the bar are mercenaries, and although they work for different mercenary organizations, they all have the same identity - mercenaries!

On the battlefield, they may be pinpointed against each other because they work for different interest groups, but here they are all here to have fun.

Mercenaries are such a profession, they exchange their lives for money, and the money they get in exchange is used for pleasure; I ran out of money, so I lifted my pants and picked up my gun and walked into the battlefield again, and so on...... Until you don't have your life to walk off the battlefield.

These mercenaries of different skin colors were holding a nearly naked woman in their arms, and their hands were very dishonest on the woman, and these women were not only not repulsing, but still doing peace.

On the dance floor, several scantily clad girls are making various provocative movements around a few steel pipes, and under the coaxing of the people around them, they take off the strands of clothes on their bodies and throw them at the surrounding crowd.

Every time clothing flies into the surrounding crowd, it causes a burst of coaxing and whistling. On the dance floor, in a dimly lit corner, a mercenary and a girl were already writhing together.

A woman in her underwear walked up to the man, twisting her body to fit the man.

As long as the man is willing to come up with some money, the woman doesn't mind having something to do with the man like the mercenary and the girl in the corner.

It's just that the man completely ignored the woman next to him and walked straight towards the stairs.

The woman was not annoyed by the man's indifferent attitude, twisted her waist and walked away from the man. After all, not all of the people who come to this bar are here to have fun.

This two-storey bar is a real mix of fish.

In this bar, in addition to mercenaries, there are also agents of intelligence organizations of various countries, intelligence brokers, and arms dealers, who appear in this bar for their own different purposes.

The man walked to a box and was stopped by two Arabs standing outside the box. The man took out half of a mermaid card from his shirt pocket and showed it to the two Arabs.

The two Arabs immediately lowered their hands and opened the door to the box for the man.

In the box sofa sat an Arab in a printed shirt, and on this Arab lap sat a woman, whose hands had been untied from the other's belts, and if the white man was two minutes late, the Arab man in the sofa would probably have to pick up a gun.

Seeing the white man walking into the box, the Arab man on the sofa immediately pushed away the woman sitting on his lap and slapped her on the ass twice to let the woman leave.

The woman reluctantly walked out of the box, paused slightly as she passed the white man, and glared at the white man fiercely.

If it weren't for this man's bad deeds, she would have earned the dollars on the coffee table by now.

The white man walked straight to the coffee table, pulled over a stool and sat down, put half of the card in his hand on the coffee table, and pushed it towards the Arab man on the sofa.

The Arab man glanced at the white man in front of him with a little surprise in his eyes, and then took out half of the card from his shirt pocket and put it on the coffee table, and spliced it with the white man's half of the card to form a complete mermaid card.

"You're a mermaid?" The Arab man asked the white man in fluent English.