Wei Mingxu turned his head, stared at the floating dust flying in the flashlight again, and said softly: "There are many eyes on Earth that are watching our satellite launch center, and they are all waiting to see how we will expand the advantage of space control - what is even more terrifying, some people already know how we will expand the advantage of space control. Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 infoWe already believe that there are leaks in the housekeeping, but that plan is already in place and has to be sent. That's why the General Staff hurriedly summoned Lord Vittoleo. It can be seen that the abnormal movement aroused the vigilance of the staff officers, and they tried to speed up the whip and finalize it as soon as possible before the extraneous branch was formed. Wei Mingxu raised his index finger again, gently knocked on the door of his head, looked at Zhuang Yan and said:

"Think, Doctor. You can deduce all of this by thinking. You didn't need me to remind you. ”

Zhuang Yan's confusion finally turned into shock, his face twitched, and he stared at Wei Mingxu with a dumbfounded expression, "What do you want to remind me?" ”

"Stop throwing a tantrum and roaring about 'whichever country's mark is affixed to the space-based satellite that fires the cannon, you will find trouble with that country.'" This trend of thought is the desire of the people, and your prestige is not low, if there is a frenzy of declaring war, no one will want to think seriously. Wei Mingxu said softly, "I should have invited you to tea for the crime of sedition, but at this moment, I don't want you to treat me as an enemy." So, please be less angry and think more. ”

Zhuang Yan was speechless, he remembered the scene when Wei Mingxu bowed his head to carry out the order of the captain and tied himself to the court. The memories are intertwined, the images are overlapped, and the images of the two Wei Mingxu are very different.

One is a lackey who wags his tail and begs for mercy.

One is a thoughtful military man.

When Zhuang Yan was messy, Wei Mingxu didn't want to say more, turned off the flashlight, put his hand on the elevator switch, and in the darkness, he could only hear Wei Mingxu's voice floating: "Of course, I also understand you, your liver is not good, and irritability is a disease." That's why I took this opportunity to warn you, don't be angry. As Lord Vittorio advised, now is the time to rein in your edge and protect yourself. The most regrettable thing on the battlefield is that the sincere warriors were blinded by rage and died in vain. ”

After speaking, Wei Mingxu had pressed the switch, the iron door suddenly opened, and the soft light in the elevator projected out, dimly illuminating Wei Mingxu's side face.

Wei Mingxu has rough skin and slightly high cheekbones, but his thick eyebrows are like a sword, his jaw is like a country, and when he looks at Zhuang Yan seriously with an expressionless face, he looks like an elder who is full of concerns.

Zhuang Yan stared at Wei Mingxu in the light, and suddenly opened his mouth and asked, "How do you know the ...... of heaven?"

Wei Mingxu shook his head with a smile, and joked with a hippie smile: "How do I know what the plan is, I just want to have more salary here, so that I can send my daughter to learn piano!" Doctor, I'm standing on the edge of a cliff talking to you, don't push me off the cliff! As he spoke, he dodged into the elevator and pressed the button: "Come in quickly, the yin wind outside hurts your body." ”

Zhuang Yan shut up and followed, looked up, and saw the camera in the elevator, and then remembered that the moment the elevator door opened, they had returned to the pervasive full video surveillance system. And the traffic monitoring, which can be checked by the lieutenant, the nine-member regiment, and the silent, is the most transparent.

So he nodded in agreement and said awkwardly, "It's quite cold." It's cold. It's a different day. ”

Wei Mingxu closed the elevator, looked up at the indicator screen, rubbed his hands and stomped his feet tremblingly, and replied with a sigh: "I don't know if I can survive this winter." ”

Washington, D.C. before the Light of Judgment fires.

At night, two agents in crisp suits hurried to the conference room in wheelchairs, and the corridor was brightly lit, and only the "click" of leather shoes on the glazed floor tiles could be heard.

Charlie was lying in his wheelchair with a blank expression, his hands on his laps, his hands in his sleeves slowly rubbing his knuckles. He became like a pampered old eunuch, doing everything slowly, as still as water. He was as indifferent as ever, but in addition to his expressionless face, there was more of a layer of gloom.

The wheelchair drove to the oak door of the conference room, the agent stepped forward and knocked lightly twice, the door opened, and a staff member looked at Charlie through the crack in the door, opened the door and said softly, "You're late." Please come on in. ”

The agent, who doubled as a bodyguard, hurriedly pushed the wheelchair in.

In the conference room, a large circle of people sat or stood, all around the table, hunched over to discuss. Seeing the wheelchair pushed in, these think tanks straightened their waists and turned their heads, looked at Charlie, and nodded slightly when their eyes collided.

General Marshall was standing at one end of the long table, cutting a cigar and lowering his head to light the fire. Mrs. Clinton was sitting, and when she saw Charlie enter the door, she stood up on the table and said softly, "Although this idea is very bad, but ...... But I'm afraid we need you to look at this. ”

"That's a terrible idea." General Marshall grunted in exasperation.

Charlie's arm moved, like an old dumpling cheating corpse. Then he slowly moved his hand to the armrest of the wheelchair, stretched his fingers out of his sleeve, rubbed the touch-screen computer, and controlled the wheelchair forward.

The wheelchair carrying Charlie slowly approached the conference table, and the staff, staff officers, and think tanks who were holding the table and turning their heads to stare at Charlie made way one after another, and the tacit understanding was like drawing a knife to cut off the water.

Charlie stopped at the conference table. Immediately, at least four pairs of hands reached out and worked together to push a delicately polished wooden box in front of Charlie.

The wooden box was apparently carefully selected and inlaid with handmade gold flakes, like the work of a master craftsman when goldsmithing was in vogue in England two hundred years ago, and fetched a good price at an auction house. The fly in the ointment was that the box was stained with a little white ash, which stained the beautiful reddish-brown. The elaborate solid wood conference table was also covered with a thin layer of white flour, as if someone had sneezed with flour.

General Marshall lit the room with a bright red cigar in his hand: "I want you to be proud of what is going to happen, sheep." ”

The agent opened the wooden box for Charlie. Inside was a strange lump buried in lime, like a birthday cake that had been dug up in a mess.

"What is this?" Charlie asked, looking up.

Mrs. Clinton took a breath and looked at Charlie to say goodbye. The president did not speak, and the audience fell silent. Only General Marshall smoked with his head held high.

"What is this?" Charlie repeated.

The five-star general glanced at the thinkers mockingly, frowned, and snorted: "You invited the colonel, but no one dared to answer the colonel's question?" A flock of pigeons! He looked down at the glazed Charlie, feeling that the Colonel had seen the clue.

"This is Alan." General Marshall let out a long sigh, walked over to gaze at Charlie's face, and gently pressed his warm big hand on Charlie's shoulder and pinched it.

Charlie took a closer look at the lump buried in the lime. It was like a cracked pineapple, full of holes and unrecognizable.

General Marshall looked at Charlie's expression in horror and slowly explained: "His head was crushed by six 5.8mm bullets, and it was artificially dehydrated and sent to the White House as a specimen. We're already tracking down the logistics, but there's little hope of catching the real culprit. ”

Charlie was dumbfounded and asked blankly, "Is this ......?"

Before he finished speaking, Charlie lowered his head and carefully looked at the pimple in the box, and changed his words: "He is...... Allan? Allan. ”

A staff member next to him anxiously added: "Weapons experts have determined that the warhead belongs to the standard 5.8 mm bullet of the qsz92 pistol, so it must be admitted that the possibility of the special forces of country C participating in this operation cannot be ruled out, after all, the relationship is so tense, and they are absolutely unwilling to see the light of judgment reopen the power gap between the two sides......

Mrs. Clinton propped up the table, her head down, and her eyes closed, allowing her reckless staff to vomit. Because that's exactly why they asked Charlie to witness the truth.

No one knew better than Charlie whether there were Asians in the Navy-SEALs at that time. (To be continued.) )