chsdbacks Chapter 828: Vermouth was attacked
Chapter 828: Vermouth was attacked
Mojito will never sit still.
He suddenly picked up the heavy machine gun that had just been replaced with a new ammunition belt, and half of his body leaned out of the violently shaking cabin. The strong wind instantly tore his clothes and hair.
"Go to hell! You stinking lunatic!!" He roared like a beast, and a half-meter-long tongue of fire spewed out from the muzzle of the gun.
The dense rain of bullets was like a metal storm, madly splashing towards the helicopter that was chasing closely from behind.
Baijiu's face was as cold and hard as rock in the shadow of the cockpit.
The moment he decided to go behind Mojito, he had rehearsed this most insane attack. There was no fluctuation in his eyes, only absolute concentration.
Under his control, the helicopter was like a petrel in a storm, rushing left and right amidst the deadly barrage of bullets.
Every thrilling evasive maneuver caused the fuselage to groan in pain.
This dance of death lasted a minute—but for both sides, it seemed like the blink of an eye.
Finally, the cascading fire suddenly stopped.
"Hunk, hunk, hunk!" Mojito's finger was still tightly gripping the hot trigger. His muscle memory allowed him to maintain the shooting posture, and smoke was still coming out of the muzzle of the gun.
The frantic shooting that lasted just one minute seemed to last only three seconds in his perception.
He subconsciously touched the spare ammunition box - empty!
Touch another one - still empty!
Mojito slumped back in his chair, his chest heaving violently as he gasped for breath, the hot air exhaled from his lungs.
He had an expressionless face and stared blankly at the rolling sea of clouds ahead. An unprecedented feeling of powerlessness gripped him.
"Oh shit……"
"McAllen, please answer!" Old Black's voice remained steady, but his speech speed had increased significantly. Every word seemed to strike at a tense nerve. "We are about to touch the core of the fuse, another nuclear bomb. We must find another nuclear bomb immediately."
On the nuclear device screen, the scarlet countdown numbers flickered grimly: [07:30].
"Wait..." Joanna froze for a moment. She thought she had misheard or misunderstood the meaning of the word.
She turned her head with difficulty and looked at Lao Hei, her voice trembling with disbelief: "You...you just said...it was another nuclear bomb?"
Instantly, an icy chill ran up her spine like a venomous snake.
Cold sweat instantly soaked her back! "Are you sure...?" Her voice was as thin as a mosquito, filled with great fear.
Lao Hei did not answer her question. Any explanation at this moment would be a waste of time.
He spoke into the headset, his voice rising sharply with undeniable urgency: "McAllen, do you hear me? Another nuclear bomb. Find it now."
"I'm looking for it!!" McAllen's rapid breathing could be heard through the headset, with the whistling wind and his own heavy footsteps in the background.
His legs almost left afterimages, running so fast that they were blurry.
If Usain Bolt were there at the moment, he would probably be shocked by his all-out sprint speed. Bolt would definitely be thinking, I didn't expect there is a man in the world who is faster than him - at least that's what McAllen thinks.
He rushed to the hut, his hands clasped painfully on either side of his violently heaving ribs, his lungs on fire.
He raised his head and roared with all his strength: "Vermouth! Where are you?!"
This shout would undoubtedly expose the position, but there was no need to worry about it at the moment.
The three almost identical little houses before me are like three silent graves.
Searching room by room? Time simply won't allow it! The nuclear bomb countdown is like the sword of Damocles hanging over our heads!
Deep inside the cabin.
"Hmm...hmm..." Vermouth struggled to open her heavy eyelids, her vision was blurry, with only a faint slit of light.
Her brain felt like it was filled with lead, making her feel dizzy and unable to wake up completely.
She felt like a mute who had witnessed the entire murder, knew all the truth, but couldn't utter a single syllable.
McCarron's heart-wrenching cry penetrated the wall and could be heard faintly.
"McAllen...McAllen..." She screamed wildly in her heart, but her lips could only make a faint, mosquito-like humming sound.
She tried to shout in response with all her might, but her throat seemed to be tightly gripped by an invisible hand. No matter how she struggled, her voice could not break through the constraints of her mouth.
Consciousness is like scattered puzzle pieces, being pieced back together again, piece by piece, with great difficulty.
She felt something stuck in her mouth, rough and with an indescribable musty smell, pressing against the back of her tongue, almost suffocating her.
She suddenly opened her eyes fully.
Her vision gradually became clear—she was experienced and made a quick judgment.
I was tied tightly to a heavy wooden chair, my wrists and ankles were bound tightly with rough hemp ropes that cut into my flesh.
The figure is more curvy, sexy and charming when tied up with ropes.
What made her even more desperate was that a thick and dirty towel was roughly stuffed into her mouth, with the two ends tied tightly into a knot behind her head.
Vermouth struggled violently, trying to break free, but just as her toes left the ground—
"Ugh!" A painful groan escaped from the blocked mouth.
A powerful, uncontrollable pulling force instantly locked her neck.
She was strangled so hard that her vision went black. Ryan was such a bastard.
Not only did he tie her up, he also set up this vicious mechanism.
Any struggle would trigger the rope to tighten, leading to strangulation.
This is a carefully designed death trap!
It's impossible for her to escape on her own!
Ryan stood silently in the shadow beside her like a ghost, watching her struggle coldly.
At this moment, he slowly walked forward, leaned down, and put his cold face almost close to her ear, his voice low and hoarse:
"You can't stop it, understand?" His breath was cold.
With a sickening scrutiny, his fingers gently brushed across Vermouth's bloodstained yet still delicate cheek, sliding across her straight nose and tightly pursed lips. "What a beauty..."
There was no praise in his tone, only cold possessiveness and a twisted jealousy. "I'm really a little envious of that kid..."
His gaze turned to the nuclear device in front of Vermouth, which exuded the breath of death. The countdown numbers on the screen were jumping mercilessly.
His voice was a whisper from hell: "There's nothing he can do. When the time comes..."
"Baijiu will make him lose everything." He paused, each word like a poisoned ice cone, "and everyone he cares about..."
His gaze returned to Vermouth's face, with a cruel amusement, "Including the one he loves the most... you."
"Look at this wound..." Ryan sighed and gently touched the wound at the corner of her eye. The wound had already solidified but was still emitting a glaring blood red. The area was as big as an eraser. "What a pity."
"Vermouth! Vermouth!!" MacLaren's shouts came from far away, with the penetrating power of despair, and exploded outside the door!
Chance! !
“Mmm--!! Mmm--!!!” Vermouth burst out with unprecedented strength, twisting her body desperately.
She may not have understood what it meant to shout at the top of one's throat before, but today she completely understood. This is what it means to "shout at the top of one's throat."
A dull and crazy roar came from her blocked mouth, and the rope around her neck tightened instantly, making her eyes go black and a feeling of suffocation surged over her.
But she didn't care! This was her only chance! She had to let McCarron hear it!
"Vermouth! Where are you!!" McAllen's voice was getting closer, almost outside the door.
"You fucking bitch." Ryan's eyes flashed with ferocity. He suddenly raised his hand and slapped Vermouth hard in the face. "Pa!" The crisp sound echoed in the small space.
Then, his five fingers, like iron hooks, fiercely pinched her slender neck.
"You don't want to see this..." Ryan's voice was like a poisonous snake spitting out its tongue, and there was only pure, cold murderous intent in his deep eyes.
"Boom boom boom! Boom boom boom!" The footsteps are getting closer.
McCarron rushed in with a gun!