Rafael woke up from a nightmare stared at by huge eyes, and found that the nightmare had become a reality: a dark shadow pressed against his head, and a cold sharp object pressed against his neck, as if the trachea was about to be cut in the next second. He swallowed the exclamation sound back to his throat and tried to touch the medical call button beside the bed, which was specially configured for the half-paralyzed himself in the sixth district of the prison.
The sharp object plunged into the back of the moving hand in the next second and nailed it to the bed sheet. "Hush," Sombra covered his mouth, "Cooperate, Mr. Stock. As long as you are willing to cooperate, I promise to keep you alive."
Rafael was in a cold sweat with pain, but still nodded calmly, showing the keen judgment of once a gang member. From the group of dark shadows, he smelled an extremely dangerous aura, sharp as a knife, as strong as dripping blood-he was familiar with this dark aura, knowing that the best response at this time was to be obedient and obedient.
Sombra let go. Rafael took a hard breath and asked tentatively, "You were sent by Raper? I've been in here, and he wouldn't let me go?"
The shadow said coldly: "Don't worry, the fight for power between you brothers has nothing to do with me."
Rafael breathed a sigh of relief: "Then you are..."
"I'm looking for you to inquire about a person's news."
"Who?"
"Enjoyer."
"Pleasure person? No, I don't know anyone by this name." Rafael said.
"Think patiently, and remember it carefully." Sombra said, "This is just a pen name, a code name, maybe he never claimed to be so in front of you, but you are so familiar, you must know his hobbies, know what he did. Those things that cannot be seen, maybe once or twice occasionally, you have seen his signature at the end of the letter..."
A name popped out of Rafael's mind when he was called by the other party's inspiring tone. "Speak out, that name." Sombra ordered, "You only have one second to judge which is more important than your life."
Rafael immediately made a choice: "Hayden Corten!"
The black shadow took a silent breath, and then slowly exhaled it, as if suppressing a certain fierce and violent power to the extreme. Once released, it will burst out and destroy everything.
Rafael felt his throat tighten for a while, the inexplicable sense of fear far exceeded the pain of being pierced in the palm of his hand, and his chest even convulsed involuntarily.
After a while, the shadow asked in a deep voice: "Do you know how to find him?"
Rafael shook his head: "I haven't been in contact with him for many years, and we were just acquaintances in the past—" His eyebrows were suddenly nodded by a cold finger, and he immediately fell silent.
"I know more than you think you think." Sombra said, "You used to be a pair of lovers. The few cases he committed on the West Coast were not caught by the police because of one aspect. It's because of his own cunning and old-fashionedness, and on the other hand, because you have been blessing him with the power in your hand, haven't you?"
Rafal was stunned, speechless.
"He used you until you failed in the battle for the leader of the blood gang, and then like to get rid of a mass of human-shaped trash, you did not hesitate to get rid of you, and even sold you to Raper in exchange for a large benefit, and you ended up like this. , Isn't it?"
"Although you still have feelings for him, but you hate him more deeply, you don't want to find him, and personally fill the vengeance bullet into the evil selfish heart, but you don't have the ability to realize it, do you?"
"Now the opportunity is here. Provide me with clues, all the clues related to him, you will find that my ability is beyond your imagination, and my reward for you is-he will hear your name before dying , Do you want to know his expression at that moment?"
As if bewitched by the devil's murmur in the dark, Rafael squinted his eyes, and a strange light gradually emerged from the corners of the wrinkled eyes. "That look must be beautiful..." He murmured, with deep memories and memories. The vicious pleasure finally laughed out of breath, "Oh, I really want to see it with my own eyes!"
Sombra had prepared the asthma spray hidden under the pillow into his mouth, and said flatly: "You will know."
After the invisibility and darkness of the man who had never seen his face left, Rafael gritted his teeth and pulled out the pen nailed to the back of his hand. Like an owl in the night forest, it made a trembling sound that looked like laughter and cry.
In the fifth area of Rex Island Prison, cell 1317 welcomed the original owner after a short period of vacancy. The prison guard locked the door and left quickly. As soon as he put his personal belongings on the bed, he heard the sound of light footsteps outside the door.
"Let me use my strength to get you back from the sixth district. You'd better tell me that you've got the blood card of Rafael Stoke." Timothy leaned on the iron fence with his shoulder, in a casual posture. There is a threat in it, and he said to him half-faced.
He smiled slightly at him: "Today I will be the last to go to the laundry room."
In the evening, when the clean-up time was about to end, I came to the laundry room with a basket of dirty clothes, and saw that it had been emptied. Timothy was sitting on the bench, holding a book leisurely.
"I thought you would be more patient,'Godfather,' at least wait until I unlock the code on that sign," he said.
Timothy put down the book and stood up and said, "You only need to get the sign, and I will take care of the rest." He stretched out an arm gracefully, as if the king on the throne was satisfied with the contributions of his subjects, gifts They kissed the honor of his fingertips. "Come here, one-fifth of the promised before will not be less than you."
He finished but shook his head with a smile: "How do I have a hunch, once you get the sign, I won't see the sun tomorrow? I know that by your means, there are at least a hundred ways to keep me silent. I can’t take this kind of risk when I die silently in jail."
Timothy curled his mouth with a smile, and raised his eyebrows, which was a sign of his anger: "If you don't give it to me now, I promise you won't even see it for dinner today."
"One-fifth, 100 million U.S. dollars. That's a huge sum of money. It's worth fighting for a desperado like me." Just before the other's face was completely gloomy, he pulled out a huge ring from his pocket. , Tossing up and down like a game, "Sure enough, real money is more tempting. Compared to this thing, it is too literary, and even if it is melted, it is not worth a lot of money."
After seeing the ring clearly, Timothy's face changed suddenly and he lost his voice: "Why is it in your hands? Is it Alessio? Damn, he even gave you the'seal'?! Stupid! Bastard! You two—" He closed his eyes and opened them quickly, seeming to suppress his anger for an instant, but his killing intent could not be restrained oozing out of his iron-green complexion.
"Give me the ring!" he said word by word.
"No problem," he promised very readily. "In exchange, that brand can stay with me for a few more days, right?"
Timothy didn't answer, and his gray-blue eyes were cold.
After knowing that the other party had agreed to this reluctantly, he flicked his finger, threw the ring over, and said with a smile: "Don’t be angry, godfather, from another perspective, this is a good thing for you. Look, your brother doesn’t You don’t care about this'seal' as much as you think, so I entrusted me to return it to you. He said that as long as there are no key interests involved, your brotherhood can go on forever. And for me, this is also a good thing. , Which shows that Alessio cares about me more than I thought, so that I can safely hand over such an important item to me. In short," he paused deliberately, it sounded a sense of triumph. "You got the'scepter', I got the'true heart', the best of both worlds, don't you? You don't really want to kill me and make your good brother sad to death, do you?"
Timothy caught the ring, staring at him blankly, and finally spit out a word stiffly: "Shameless!"
The rascal spread his hands: "But your brother loves me."
The godfather felt a sudden throbbing pain in his temples. He put the ring on the thumb of his right hand and gave a compromising snort: "Give you a week, unlock the code on that sign, and tell me where the old Vogan's secret vault is."
"Yes, Your Majesty." The finale bowed like a stage play.
Timothy walked away unrelentingly, and the two men guarding the door followed him away. Only one person was left in the laundry room for a short time.
"For the sake of your good style, I'll give you a parting gift—under the floor tiles of the laundry room in the fifth area of the tomb. Look for it."
Recalling Gan's whisper, he smiled slightly, his eyes swept across the room: What would be the gift of a professional killer... A dagger? gun? Or is it more distinctive
At dinner, Qing Qing did not see the wolf stick in a fixed position, and the fat black Malvo was also missing in the other corner. Kinnig told him that because the fight a few days ago was too noisy, in order to warn the two gangs, the prison guarded the wolf club and Marvola into a small black room, and they would not be able to return within ten and a half months.
"With the short hand, they are considered to give the boss face, if we follow the regulations, at least two or three months." Kinnig said, hanging a wounded arm, "but it doesn't matter, where is it? After beating the cripples and letting out a bad breath, I was very happy! I don’t know when the next war will be, life is really boring..."
The killing eyes were set aside from him, passing by the other prisoners-day after day of imprisonment, the hopelessness of not seeing the day, and uniformly rendering the faces of these people with a dull and decadent color, only the smell of blood can slightly stimulate them to numb. Their nerves are like a group of rats raised in a garbage dump, killing each other for a little bit of food residue, even if they are full, they still have to kill each other, because they don't know what else they can do besides fighting.
He pushed the stainless steel plate in front of him, got up and left the restaurant, and walked to the fixed phone at the end of the aisle. After swiping the ID card, he dialed the lawyer Canning’s cell phone, ignored the other party’s courteous greetings (he knew well that the other party had earned both fame and fortune in his case), and said straightforwardly: "In order to get my specific information, Shanier told You've been in contact, haven't you? Tell him, let the little wolfdog come with a frisbee to receive the reward, I'm ready for the bone biscuits."
After putting down the receiver, he turned around and faced the figure appearing on the corner of the corridor—Simon, who seemed to have stood there and looked at him for a while, and he was hesitant to come over, whether to say hello casually, or to say something. What to express excitement.
Seeing how the young prison guard was hesitant to speak, he almost gave up a part of his plan-but it was only a momentary shake. His eyes quickly cooled down and he took the initiative to walk towards Simon: "Good evening, sir. ."
"You can just call me Simon." The other party said softly.
"Well, Simon," he said, "I need your help."
Simon's eyes lit up, making the shameless face glow with a vivid brilliance: "Wh, what? Please tell me, what can I do for you?"
With an unusually cold expression, he leaned to the other party's ear and whispered, his cheeks were as pale as a corpse in the tragic light of the fluorescent lamp.
A week later.
Timothy stopped in the windy playground. "Time is up, have you cracked the code? If you can't, just give me the sign."
"Come to my room in the evening." He left a sentence and passed by.
At nine o'clock in the evening, all the prisoners stood in a row on the yellow line of the aisle and accepted the roll call. After the call, the prisoners returned to their cells, the iron doors were locked, and the lights in the aisle were turned off. Timothy stepped back obliquely back and entered the cell next door. The guards called the prison guard as if he hadn't seen them, and locked the door without saying a word.
The cell with the lights out was shrouded in darkness, and the silhouette of the figure sitting on the edge of the bed was barely visible. When his eyes adjusted to the dark environment, Timothy stepped forward and said, "Go ahead, stop playing tricks..."
"I didn't unlock the code." He interrupted him, "According to the agreement, the blood card is given to you. You can research it yourself, but one-fifth of mine cannot be less."
Timothy sneered in his heart and reached out to him.
He got up and took off the metal chain on his neck, and handed it over. As soon as the opponent's finger firmly grasped the sign, he yanked hard, then bent his knees and slammed into the opponent's lower abdomen.
Unprepared, Timothy was hit by him and let out a painful grunt. But as the leader of the gang, he has also made a lot of effort in fighting skills, enduring the pain and throwing his fists to fight back.
The moment his wrist was strangled, he only felt a whirl, his chin and chest slammed on the bed frame, and his eardrums hummed. It took several seconds for him to wake up, and found that his wrists and ankles had been tied behind his back with shoelaces and could not move.
… That’s the end? His various fighting skills have not had time to be used!
With a sense of unreality of the whole world, Timothy lay on the floor blankly, feeling beyond words. It turns out that all the fears, tensions, and vigilance that the other party showed before him were all just disguise? It's like a beast that deliberately constricts its minions and sneaks with its breath, only at the moment it pounces on its prey!
He sat down on his back waist, and took off the metal chain between his fingers and hung it back around his neck. "Don't be depressed, godfather, I know you are better at using guns than low-end products like fists." He patted Timothy on his shoulder and said jokingly.
"... What do you want to do to swallow that money?" Timothy finally recovered from the shock, gritted his teeth and asked, "I want to fight the whole gang alone? Do you know what the three words mafia mean, you This idiot?"
"Of course, it means that even I don't want to offend a behemoth easily." Qing Qing replied indifferently, "but I can't let you stare at me like a surveillance probe, that would ruin my plan." He While talking, he carried Timothy to the bed and covered him with a quilt from head to toe. When doing this, his movements were light and gentle, and he even tucked the quilt carefully, as if he was using actual actions to prove to the other party: You see, I still respect your noble status.
Timothy felt frustrated for the first time in his magnificent life. "You are dead, Elvis!" He said in a low voice, "I will do my best to hunt you down and kill you. Bone and ashes, even Alessio can't stop..."
"Be rational, Godfather, this won't bring you and your gang any practical benefits. It's not worth it to vent a bargaining with a desperate guy." Killing still uses that calm and maddening one. The accent said, "Oh, by the way, don't worry about the five hundred million dollars. That secret vault is nothing but a fiction. It is all made up and spread out. The truth is like you said, seven blood cards are old. The dog chain that Vogan built for his adopted children to show his control."
Timothy almost vomited a mouthful of blood. He said something vaguely, but he was indistinct when he was wrapped in a quilt. He sealed his mouth with tape and got up and walked to the cell door.
After waiting for a while, the sound of footsteps approached and the iron gate was opened. Simon leaned in half of his body and asked nervously, "How is it, are you ready?"
He nodded, and raised his chin toward the bed, "Can you see it?"
Simon took the photo with a flashlight, saw half of the back of his head vaguely, nodded and said, "I shouldn't find it."
There will be a roll call at one o'clock in the morning, but prison guards generally do not enter the cell, and will only take a picture with a flashlight through the iron fence, as long as they see the person in the bed. As for the room at 1316, I used a few pillows and stuffed them in the quilt to deal with it. Today's guard on duty is Timothy's related household and would never enter his room to investigate.
In this way, he has at least ten hours to move around, and if it goes well, there is no time.
Simon walked out of the prison area with the finalists, and took out a set of prison guard uniforms in the dark for him to put on. Using Simon's ID card, they quickly left the fifth area, got on the special guard car parked by the side of the road, and drove towards the west of Rex Island.
The "Tenth District" in the night is not gloomy. The huge barge with five floors is like an ancient sea beast, entrenched on the shore majesticly. The searchlights that have been swept from time to time reflect dazzling light on its snow-white shell, and it also illuminates the parked vehicle and the two prison guards who got off the vehicle.
He pulled down the brim of the hat and pressed it down. Simon blocked the glare with the back of his hand and made an internal gesture to the opponent, and the searchlight immediately moved away.
They walked onto the dock. Even near the water's edge, there are wire grids everywhere. Rex Island is like a guarded pass, preventing all intrusions and escapes.
"Only the railing on the outer deck of the barge is not equipped with a power grid. Because the hull is a closed space, it is impossible for prisoners to go to the deck." Saimen took out another ID card with a different color. "This card can be in the tenth area. The pass is a temporary card that I used when I went there for the shift last week. It has not been cancelled yet. You can use it to open the iron gate leading to the deck."
He said: "Come with me, you know that when things are revealed tomorrow, you will not be able to get rid of the relationship when you check it down. I don't want you to be sentenced because of me."
Simon shook his head: "I can't be as desperate as you. I don't have the ability. Sooner or later I will be arrested or even killed. I'd rather stay here and wait for the law to decide."
He was silent for a moment, and said: "I am harming you and using you. As long as you yell or press the sirens, you can stop all this and save your own destiny. You have to think clearly, Simon, this Too unfair to you... You have done this for me, and now even if you send me back to the fifth district, I will not have any dissatisfaction with you."
"To be unfair, this whole fucking society is truly unfair to Saria and our family!" Simon replied flatly, "From beginning to end, I asked to help you. Now I want to show An innocent attitude being used, please forgive me for not being able to do it. Kill, I am your accomplice, I am willing and willing to be your accomplice, even if sentenced, I feel it is necessary to do this. This is my will , Even you, can't force me to go against my will?" Finally, he said half-jokingly.
He sighed lightly and gave him a strong hug, "Well, I owe you."
"You don't owe anyone, they owe you." The goalkeeper stuck into his hand, "Let's go, finish, my car can't stay outside for too long, it will be suspected, the next way, You go by yourself."
He gave him one last look, then turned and walked towards the barge.
He will go up to the deck smoothly, climb over the railings, jump into the sea, and escape from Rex Island quietly. Under the water not far away, there is a civilian mini submarine waiting for him eagerly. This time it will not escape as early as the seaplane on Luna Island, because the owner of the submarine will pay the "500 million U.S. dollars" in the blood card. ", even souls can be sold to demons without hesitation, not to mention just a mere legal bitch.
The fifth district, the prison district 1317 cells.
Timothy heard the sound of the iron door opening again and kicked the quilt hard with his tied feet. The quilt covering his face was lifted, and he saw the face of the prison guard Simon.
"Hmm..." Help me untie it! He twisted his neck and said.
The laces are so tight that they are difficult to untie with bare hands. "Wait a minute," Simon said, rummaging around in the cell. Soon he found a self-made knife, which was lost by the men of the wolf stick while playing checkers, and he had seen it carried with him on the eve of the "war".
Simon picked up the knife and walked to the bed and bent over.
Timothy turned his tied hands and feet towards each other, suddenly feeling cold. This coolness quickly spread from the chest cavity to the whole body like a cone of ice, and then the pain was slow to come. He opened his eyes in disbelief...
Simon used all his strength to pressure Timothy to stop the opponent's dying struggle, until the strength of the struggle gradually weakened, and he slipped down limply along the side of the bed. He was panting with big mouths, his heart seemed to fall apart under tremendous pressure, tension and fear filled his brain, only the gurgling blood flow and the heavy breathing of the other party near death... the sound was on the eardrum like a hacksaw Dragging back and forth in the middle, he squeezed his ears hard, shaking as if he were in the ice and snow.
After a long time, the voice disappeared. Simon climbed onto the bed to check on his soft body. The once powerful party leader has died quietly in the dark cell of a prison when he is about to be released from prison. And until the moment before he died, his eyes were still wide open unacceptably, as if still projecting an angry questioning gaze at the unknown behind-the-scenes black hand.
Simon's mood has basically calmed down. He took off the ring from Timothy's thumb, left the weapon in the body, pulled the quilt and re-covered it, took off the thin rubber gloves, stuffed it together with the ring in his pocket, closed the iron door and walked out of the prison. In the empty duty room, he took out his mobile phone from the drawer and dialed a number: "The thing is done, he is dead... I used a sharp knife with his fingerprint on it, even if it didn’t, there was People can prove that he won the knife... I don’t know where the killing went, I haven’t seen him after the lights are turned off... You let the people go before I can give you the ring... You let my parents go, otherwise I Just threw the ring into the sea, did you fucking hear clearly?!"
He roared out of control, slammed the phone to the floor, then squatted down, covering his face with his hands, and sobbing in the dark.
In front of a floor-to-ceiling window of the Federal Detention Center in New York, Alessio snorted contemptuously, dismissing the weak threat from the other end of the phone. He knew that as long as he held the old couple in his palm, Simon would definitely not dare to resist. Since he could avenge his gratitude, he would naturally offer Timothy's life along with the ring.
Farewell, brother, if you are in an ordinary family, I would also like to be a good brother with you, but unfortunately... Alessio shrugged regretfully. As for the completion, it is bound to bear this scapegoat and welcome the revenge fire from the Berardi family.
—The escorting prison guard walked over and knocked on the iron door with a truncheon to remind the departure time. He put the ring into his underwear pocket, got up and walked to the door. Alessio couldn't help grabbing his wrist, before the other party threw it away, put it in his ear and said, "Be careful... everyone."
"I have reminded you long ago, be careful of everyone—" Alessio's eyes seemed to dim for a moment, but he was immediately filled with ambition. He opened the window, took a deep breath of the cold of winter, and sighed out the second half of the sentence that he had not said at the time: "Especially me."
Volume 7 is finalized