"Colombia doesn't need coca, and the good Colombian people would rather starve to death than ask for the sin-stained money that cocaine buys, because we ......," President Vargas said in an impassioned speech to the students on the campus of the National University of Colombia. As a graduate www.biquge.info of Columbia National University and a student at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology in the United States, Vargas is definitely a successful person in the minds of every Columbia National University student. Therefore, almost every word that President Vargas said here was unanimously approved by the audience.

However, most of the students who can afford to attend Columbia National University come from the middle and upper classes of affluent society, and their lives are better than those of 90 percent of Colombians. The policies advocated by Vargas have nothing new than to intensify the crackdown on drug cartels. The biggest advantage of the new government he formed actually comes from the support of the United States and Europe.

Chebyshev was standing in the middle of the crowd, wearing a pair of black-rimmed glasses, dressed in a casual suit, looking no different from most people here, slowly moving forward in the crowd, step by step in the direction of the podium. Behind him, on the roof of the building on the west side of the lawn, Rubic was watching Vargas with his scope.

Rubik frowned as he watched in the sight for a long time, and from his vantage point, Vargas's figure was hidden behind a massive stone pillar, and his head could only be barely seen when he took a small step forward. Shooting the target from this position is not ordinary.

Rubik was never able to find a good firing position, which made him feel a little irritated. He had to force himself to be patient, he picked up the walkie-talkie at hand, and said to Chebyshev below: "Chebyshev, I can't aim at the target, you have to think of a way to see if you can get closer and kill him." ”

Chebyshev had already scolded Rubik ten thousand times in his heart at this moment. Rubic actually asked him to assassinate Vargas, which is simply sending him to death. However, Chebyshev has been thinking about how to escape this catastrophe since he learned of his mission, and he can neither really let Vargas die, nor arouse Rubik's suspicions. For now, Chebyshev already has a complete countermeasure.

"Rubik, my marksmanship is not good, I'm afraid I'll miss, so let's go and lure Vargas out, you can do it!" As soon as Chebyshev said this, he took off his headphones, pushed away the crowd and strode forward, pointing at Vargas and saying in Spanish: "Liars, lackeys of the Americans!" Swindler! ”

As he spoke, Chebyshev took off both of his shoes and threw them at Vargas.

After all, Vargas was old and frail, and his reaction was slow, and Chebyshev's movements were fast and accurate, so he was caught off guard and smashed by Chebyshev's flying shoes. Vargas was so angry that he couldn't help but pick up his shoes. But suddenly he calmed down again, he was thinking about whether this was the arrangement of his political enemies, and he even thought about whether to tell a joke to resolve this embarrassing situation, and at this moment he saw that the soles of his shoes were written in bright red paint, Someone is going to kill you, run!

Vargaston was startled, and at this moment a gunshot rang out, Vargas's reaction was ahead of time after all, and he began to squat down as early as he saw this message. The bullet hit the microphone on the podium the moment Vargas fell to the ground.

After the gunshots, the audience scattered and fled, and President Vargas's bodyguards rushed to the podium and firmly protected him. Chebyshev ran barefoot like crazy to his car, where was the Medellín group responder.

Rubic couldn't be sure if Vargas had been killed, and time didn't allow him to stay too long. He quickly dropped all his gear and ran to the other side of the roof, where there was a rope that could quickly descend to the ground.

Chebyshev frantically ran towards a Toyota SUV parked on the side of the road, when suddenly a gunshot rang out behind him. The Toyota car also rushed towards him, the muzzle of the gun sticking out of the window of the car, and the Medellín group men used their rifles to drive away the pursuers behind Chebyshev.

Chebyshev took two sharp steps, opened the door and got into the car. Now he finally breathed a sigh of relief.

On the other hand, Rubik quickly slipped to the ground, then got into the car, and quickly fled the scene.

The U.S. secret service at the scene was relieved after constantly checking Vargas's injuries and knowing that he had his scalp cut by a fragment of the microphone. To ensure Vargas's safety, he was carried into a bulletproof sedan not far away. The car was escorted by a group of bodyguards and left the scene in a police car, and the Colombian military police were naturally responsible for the pursuit and search for the suspects.

Vargas covered his wound with a handkerchief, and at this moment he was still holding the shoe that the attacker had thrown over, and he turned the sole of the shoe back to the American secret service officer in charge of his security: "You see, the attacker just now actually wanted to save me!" ”

The secret service officer took the leather shoe from Vargas's hand, and when he saw the red handwriting on it, he felt confused, and he couldn't understand why the attacker who threw the shoe just now should be an accomplice of the assassins, and why he warned Vargas. Could it be that guy is our intelligence officer?

"Mr. President, please don't reveal this matter to the outside world, I'm afraid that the other party may not have any ill will towards us, or even our companions, if this matter is known to the assassin, he will die!" The secret service officer gave Vargas a serious explanation.

"Don't worry, I know the seriousness of this matter, if you know his identity that day, thank him for me!" Vargas still has lingering fears, never imagined he would be so dangerous when he used to stand on the podium and discuss how to punish those drug trafficking organizations. Vargas has lived abroad for more than a decade, and what is now Colombia is no longer the country he knows.

"Mr. President, today is too dangerous, you should try to reduce the number of public appearances in the future." The Secret Service took the opportunity to convince Vargas that this was not a well-policed neighborhood in Europe and the United States, where almost half of the poor were working for drug dealers.

Vargas looked out the window, a colorful sight on the hillside in the distance, but Vargas knew that it was not a tourist attraction, but a slum outside Bogotá, and that the main hiding place of the Medellín group and guerrillas in the capital was on the hillside.