"Flying too high makes you an easy target."
The Japanese man below was startled, and Kishimoto Sazan's eyelids twitched as he watched the scene unfold from inside the car, sensing trouble, "Go! Go!"
Before he could finish speaking, the driver's head in front exploded!
A large-caliber sniper rifle!!
"Ah! Ah! Ah!!!" Kishimoto Sazan screamed twice inside the car, his mind flashing back to the battlefield during World War II, when he was still in logistics, and the fear of war quickly overwhelmed him.
His subordinate beside him panicked and started running out of the car.
But after just two steps, the sniper targeted him, shot him straight in the chest, and his body flew up like a kite, landing heavily on the ground with half his chest blown away.
From behind the large truck, four or five masked armed militants came down and started shooting at the Japanese, bullets whistling by.
Kishimoto Sazan curled up in his seat, shivering.
Suddenly, the gunfire stopped.
He raised his head to look outside and saw a pair of eyes staring at him. The stranger pulled open the door and yanked Kishimoto Sazan out by his hair.
"Spare me, spare me, I'll give you money, a lot of money," he begged loudly in fluent English, which he had learned from his "American" father.
But it was as if the attacker didn't understand and pulled out a Dagger, stabbing him in the neck!
It was like slaughtering a chicken.
"Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle…" Kishimoto Sazan made a few noises, his body convulsed, and after writhing on the ground, he lay still.
These people were quick to act, and they immediately retreated after the deed.
By the time the police arrived, there were only bodies everywhere.
Great Britain finally reacted, declaring martial law throughout the city!
The streets were filled with heavily armed soldiers.
"Why has this happened?!!" Inside Buckingham Palace, Prince Michael, dressed in military uniform, loudly demanded answers, as other members of the Royal Family looked on with equally grim expressions.
This was a guest invited under the Royal Family's name, and now that he had died so horribly, even though he wasn't a major figure... it was embarrassing!
"Are we paying the intelligence agencies just to entertain women? Why are you so useless!" Prince Michael pointed at the head of the intelligence agency and cursed loudly.
The man's face turned green.
"Shut up!" Duke Edward of Kent shouted sternly.
Prince Michael opened his mouth but eventually lowered his head.
"Please find the murderer as soon as possible. We will not let this go, whether it's an organization or an individual responsible!"
The heads of MI6 nodded and left with grim faces.
"You take charge at the command center and ensure the safety of the other participants," the Duke of Kent told his brother.
Prince Michael, with his big beard and imposing appearance, still seemed a bit intimidated by his brother and merely responded.
The explosion in London shocked the world.
The reporters didn't care about losing face" it was broadcast globally.
Every channel was showing it.
At the Governor's Mansion golf course in Tijuana.
Victor and George Smiley were playing golf.
They grabbed towels from a caddy nearby, wiped off their sweat, and took a sip of orange juice.
"According to the news from the scene, the victims include President Raul Cedras, a military warlord from Haiti, Francesco Petrarca, a member of the Naples parliament from Italy, our Japanese friend Kishimoto Sazan, and the injured include members of the Spanish Royal Family, Norway Royal Family, Dutch Royal Family…"
The radio broadcaster reported, but why did it sound so gleeful?
"Tsk, tsk, tsk, it really has been a series of natural and man-made disasters," Victor sighed.
"Has the condemnation report been sent?"
George Smiley checked his watch, "It will be sent on time in ten minutes."
Victor nodded, "Good, we must condemn this violence!"
Violence from others is utterly unacceptable.
"But we shouldn't just blindly condemn; we have to tell them, messing with drug traffickers and gangs will lead to trouble eventually, no matter who it is. Act and behave without being too unscrupulous."
If everyone were as righteous as the General, the world would definitely be peaceful!
"Did the representatives from Southern Mexico die?" Victor suddenly asked.
George Smiley raised an eyebrow, "They probably won't survive tonight, my intuition tells me so."
Indeed, ruthless, being able to predict the time of someone's death.
Truly the real King of Hell.
"That's too bad, really too bad."
These were all points.