bookbashuk Chapter 799: Baijiu was framed again
Chapter 799: Baijiu was framed again
Zola looked at the liquor with a firm look in his eyes, "There will be no witnesses."
Baijiu raised a key question: "How can we ensure Ryan survives the operation?"
Zola had a plan for this and remained calm and composed: "He's in an armored box. We'll get him out when it's safe."
"You want the plutonium core," Zola rapped his knuckles on the table, making a dull sound. "This is the price."
He leaned forward slightly, examining Baijiu, who was hesitant to make a decision, and asked tentatively, "Or... is your bottom line that you can't kill the police?"
The White Widow echoed softly, with a subtle hint of inquiry in her words: "This is John Lark."
Baijiu remained expressionless, his eyes swept over the two of them calmly, his voice calm and steady, like an emotionless machine: "I used the smallpox virus to murder women and children."
He added dryly: "I have no bottom line."
The White Widow stared blankly at the liquor, a hint of disappointment flashing through the depths of her eyes.
After a pause of more than a few seconds, her slightly stiff smile returned: "Very good."
There was a barely perceptible crack in his voice, and his smile seemed much more forced than before: "Everyone, get some rest. We'll be busy tomorrow."
As soon as he finished speaking, the metal box containing the plutonium core closed with a click.
The figure of the White Widow disappeared from Baijiu's sight, and she returned to the bedroom with soft and charming steps.
Seeing this, the others returned to the hall and began to assemble guns and weapons in preparation for tomorrow's action.
Mojito put one hand in his pocket and looked meaningfully at Baijiu's lonely back with a complicated look in his eyes.
next morning
The silhouettes of the city's buildings and the golden-domed structures together outline Paris' unique skyline at dawn.
The ground was as smooth as a mirror, reflecting the majestic outline of the Eiffel Tower and the pink and purple glow of the sky.
Two figures in long windbreakers, one tall and one short, stood quietly in this space.
"You are not kidding, are you?" The woman's voice was filled with disbelief.
Mojito frowned slightly, pursed his lips, and looked serious: "If you want to get Ryan out of jail, this is the only way."
"I want Lark to get him out, not Baijiu." The woman's tone was full of dissatisfaction, and her voice gradually rose, emphasizing the original plan, "I want Lark to trade, not Baijiu." The words made no secret of her rejection of Baijiu.
"I want Lark to lead us to the plutonium core and the apostle." The woman put her hands in her pockets and stated her established goal.
"You might still have a chance." Mojito tried to calm her down.
The woman nodded slightly, but then asked a pointed question: "Have you forgotten the body we dragged out of the men's room at the Grand Palais in Paris?"
Mojito replied calmly: "I guess that's not Lark, it's more likely Lark's men, working for him-"
Before he could finish his words, he was interrupted by the woman: "According to our intelligence, he is not one of my men."
Mojito seized on the topic and asked, "Who collects the intelligence?"
The woman realized the problem and was stunned for half a second. Her eyes suddenly widened as if she had been struck by lightning: "...white wine."
Mojito turned half sideways, his eyes focused and sharp, as if he was the one in charge. His neck tilted slightly forward, his facial lines tense with seriousness.
"You've always been suspicious of Baijiu's identity. He's from Tokyo headquarters, knows our every move, and comes and goes like a ghost."
Mojito raised his palm, half covering his lips, and lowered his voice, as if sharing a shocking secret, "From what I understand, Vermouth's relationship with him... seems to be quite unusual..."
(At this moment, on the other side of the city, Vermouth might be standing by the window, her fingertips unconsciously stroking the cold window frame, her gaze cast into the distance, her heart lingering with worry about Baijiu. She understood the danger he was about to step into, and that silent concern was like a fine silk thread, entwined in her heart.)
The woman's doubts seemed to be cleared up, and she followed Mojito's hypothesis and inferred: "You mean...?"
"Is Baijiu John Lark?" But this conclusion was quickly overturned by the woman's rationality. "You're making a rash assertion. Mojito is just trying to protect himself." As a seasoned professional, she saw through Mojito's inner thoughts and advised, "That won't work."
Mojito didn't back down, still insisting on his view that "white wine is Rak." He explained calmly and logically, "Think about it carefully," he tapped his temple lightly with his finger. "Would someone as cautious as Rak really take such a risk? To deal face to face with the White Widow?"
Faced with this fatal question, the woman fell into deep thought. Mojito's words were not entirely unreasonable: "...He will send an agent." This is the most reasonable explanation at present.
Mojito nodded. "A bait." He raised his eyebrows slightly, wrinkles on his forehead. "If he's really smart, he'll let his girlfriend—" He paused deliberately, emphasizing the word "girlfriend" (referring to Vermouth), "kill the bait in front of a reliable witness, that is, me."
Mojito reasoned clearly and logically, and the woman's expression gradually changed from initial disbelief to acceptance.
"The dragnet manhunt was about to expose his undercover traitor identity, so he chose to pay someone to impersonate Lark and then kill him." The woman took up his words, and it seemed that she had already accepted the assumption that the white wine was Lark.
"Under the guise of serving the organization and the world," Mojito bit his lower lip, a cold smile appearing on his face. "With the support of the organization's top brass and the government, he can do whatever he wants and disguise his secret identity..."
"Why?" The woman's drooping eyes suddenly raised, and she turned her head to look at Mojito, and asked the core question that constituted the hypothesis: "Why did Baijiu rebel?" Although she hated Baijiu's style of doing things, she knew something about his glorious history and really couldn't understand why he rebelled.
Mojito's expression remained calm in the face of this pointed question.
He answered slowly, "Why did Ryan rebel? And why did his apostles rebel? They were all believers in a cause. When that cause was proven to be a lie, they betrayed their master."
"How many times have the top management betrayed Baijiu? How many times have they removed him and thrown him aside? How long will it take for people like him to become intolerable?" Mojito said gritting his teeth, and his hatred for the traitor seemed to be revealed between the lines.
The woman took a half step back, the corners of her mouth twitching slightly, her eyes filled with doubt and disbelief. "This is an extremely serious accusation. Do you have any evidence?"
Mojito seemed to have been waiting for this sentence for a long time. He reached into his windbreaker pocket, pulled out a perfectly intact cell phone, and handed it to the woman.
"This is the cell phone we found on the body of the man in the Grand Palais in Paris."