Conan: Begins to collaborate with Miss Bayonetta and become famous

Chapter 742 Does This Organization Really Exist?

"Buzz! Buzz!" An alarm sounded from behind.

The two of them looked back at the same time and saw several black SUVs speeding towards them, forming a long line like a giant black dragon.

The scene was even more grand than the last time in Vienna, with police officers everywhere.

The number of police officers in public is terrifying enough, not to mention how many plainclothes officers there are in private.

"Bang" a short-haired man got out of the car. He had an Asian face, but his skeleton still retained a trace of European blood. He looked like a Eurasian.

He had a black bow tie on his chest, stared with his small eyes, showed a fake smile, lowered his head and bent his waist to shake hands and talk politely with the politicians.

"Have you informed the British government that the Prime Minister has become the target of liquor?" The pilot looked at Brent and expressed the confusion that had been bothering him for a long time.

Brent said calmly without blushing or beating his heart, "I will help you catch him alive. This is the agreement."

After hearing what Brandt said, the pilot had a rough idea in his mind.

Although the authenticity remains to be considered, at least the attitude did not deceive him.

His peripheral vision quickly attracted his attention to the crowd on the side. The person who came was the old man who had met Vermouth before. He had a slicked-back hair and white hair, and was surrounded by bodyguards.

After thinking it over, the pilot said, "You've picked up some bad habits from your friends, Brent."

He raised his voice: "The worst thing is that you still think you have some control over the consequences of the incident."

The man turned his head to look at his trusted subordinate, a tall curly-haired man, who commanded him in a commanding tone: "Watch him."

The curly-haired man crossed his hands in front of his abdomen, nodded, and walked away from Brant's sight.

"Chief Aintree, Chief Aintree!" The man took small steps.

"Hey." Antree stretched out his palm, looked at the plane head and said politely: "Director Hanley, it's great to see you!"

Aintree recounted the past in a half-joking tone: "The last time we spoke, you were tracking down defecting agents in Morocco."

The pilot's tone was quite anxious, "Director Aintree, I have reason to believe that the Prime Minister's life is in danger now."

He winked at Aintree and said, "You should know how much it would cost us if the Prime Minister were in danger."

"I don't want that day to come so soon." The guy with the crew cut said with a hint of meaning.

Aintree pondered and responded calmly: "I'll be all ears."

The pilot did not explain immediately, but glanced at Brandt who was standing next to him, and saw a hint of disdain in his eyes.

In the hall, a large auction is in full swing.

Most of the visitors were British superiors, and there were also countless members from the British branch of the winery. At a glance, many of them were old acquaintances and familiar faces.

"Is there any bid higher than 2.2? Is there?" The female host stood on the stage, holding the microphone and looking at the crowd.

"2.2 once, 2.2 twice."

"Bang!" She banged the gavel. "Deal! The exhibit belongs to our generous matron!"

There was deafening applause in the hall.

At the beginning, the short-haired man with a black bow tie was watching with great interest when a waiter leaned over to his ear and whispered:

"Sir, Director Aintree of MI6 requests to see you."

The waiter anticipated that the man would refuse, and then added: "He said it was an emergency."

The man pursed his lower lip, thought for a moment, and then said gently to the lady beside him: "Excuse me."

Then he stood up from his seat and followed the waiter.

Walking straight along the red-carpeted corridor, he came to a huge room with a huge dining table in front of him, but no one was sitting at the table.

Antry had been waiting here for a long time. He had a stern and cold face. Although he didn't say anything, it could be basically judged from his expression that it was not a good thing.

The man got straight to the point and asked, "What's going on?"

"This concerns national security and even world security." After saying this, Antree's face was even more droopy than before. He turned around and walked towards the rear door.

He pushed open the door, and Brent and Jethead stood there like two elementary school students, waiting for the short-haired man to arrive.

As the door was closing, Antree said to the bodyguard outside, "No one else is allowed to come in, no matter what."

"Yes, sir." The two nodded.

"Explain to me who this man is and why he wants to arrest me." The short-haired man sat on the bench with his hands crossed.

He has the aura of a king, and he is the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom.

"Mr. Prime Minister, I'm afraid..." Aintree shook his body and glanced at the nose of the plane behind him: "Director Hanley and I are both responsible for this matter."

The pilot said in a low voice, "A man named Baijiu, his team has been forcibly disbanded by their superiors due to dereliction of duty."

"He's out of control and wants to eliminate a fictitious terrorist organization," Aintree interjected.

"Recent intelligence shows that one of your former agents is controlling him," said the crew chief.

Antley continued the topic and added, "It's a woman named Ilsa. First of all, sir, she worked in the organization for a period of time."

"He was affiliated with the Thai intelligence department, but he disappeared two years ago." Antree added incessantly.

"Then may I ask." The Prime Minister had a clear mind and was not led by them. "What is my relationship with this imaginary organization?"

"Sir." The pilot spoke and gestured to Brent beside him.

"This is William Brandt, who used to work in the liquor group for a period of time. He told us that someone wants to do something bad to you." The guy with the crew cut explained.

"Sir." Brent cleared his throat, "Baijiu holds a virtual red box that can only be opened by you."

He continued: “He believes this is the key to eradicating the Syndicate.”

The Prime Minister was stunned for a moment: "Are you talking about the Syndicate?"

"That's what he said," Brent said seriously.

"Aintree." The Prime Minister's eyes turned, and his expression and tone became intriguing: "Isn't he talking about the syndicate?"

Brent looked at Antree, and unexpectedly he had an unexpected gain, as he indeed got out important information.

The Prime Minister tilted his head and looked at Aintree: "You promised."

"The Syndicate is just a test," the Prime Minister said.

The pilot blinked his eyes, sensed something was wrong with the crane operator and smelled gunpowder in the air, and thought to himself: Could it be that the Syndicate really exists?