Beauty Man's Myriad Hearts

"Congratulations, you guessed it right. You are indeed a top agent of the CIA. Not only are you skilled, but you are also smart."

David laughed and clapped.

He leaned against the body of the yellow taxi and looked at McCall, who was lying on his back with blood gushing from the bullet holes in his extremities.

McCall knew that although he was not dead now, he was actually a dead person.

The other party so easily told him the astonishing secret about Pushkin's true identity, how could his conscience find out and let him go when he was dying?

"I answered your question, can you answer my question?"

David asked again: "How many people did the CIA send?"

"Hehe, you know I won't say it."

McCall laughed, showing bloody teeth, looking very free and easy, there was no fear in his eyes, but he was a little bit unwilling.

As an agent, he was ready to face death as early as many years ago.

"Won't you say, or don't know?"

David rubbed his chin, shook his head, a little disappointed: "It seems that I am overthinking, you are just a retired agent, even if the CIA takes action, you will not be counted..."

Hearing this sentence, McCall suddenly twitched his face.

"How do you know? Where did you know that?"

McCall suddenly realized that the other party had investigated his identity from the very beginning.

CIA, a retired agent, not to mention the CIA, at least his identity as a retired agent should not be known to outsiders, not even the CIA.

After all, he was already dead in the file, and he was personally witnessed by his teammates.

Only a very small number of people know that they are still alive.

Who leaked the news?

Are there ghosts?

McCall's brows were tightly furrowed, and he couldn't figure it out.

"Poor guy, you think your identity is a secret, but you don't know that I knew who you were from the very beginning."

David shrugged: "Robert McCall, as a tool, you are excellent. Sadly, you have the idea that you shouldn't have, you want to live an ordinary life... but the result is that you have spent your whole life It’s a tool, and I always feel that killing and violence can solve everything, and I can’t live or be myself.”

"How do you know, why do you know?"

McCall repeated the question, eyes filled with extreme mania.

Bullseye was very interested when he saw it.

Of course he could see that David was torturing McCall.

David looked at McCall, who looked crazy, and smiled slightly, calmly: "Why don't you answer my question first, and then I'll answer what you want to know?"

"I dealt with you because of that girl. I don't know anything else...Maybe the CIA will use my presence to attack you, but it has nothing to do with me. The CIA shouldn't even know that I'm still alive."

McCall took a deep breath, slowly answered David's question, and stared at David through him: "Now, answer my question, where did you know about me?"

"The only answer is, it's not Susan."

David took out a gun from his waist and aimed it at McCall's head, making McCall a fool.

McCall breathed a sigh of relief, first relief, then horror.

The good news is that it wasn't Susan who betrayed him.

The fear was that McCall knew that David had found his way through his network.

Susan, can be regarded as his only good friend left in this world.

Moreover, Susan contributed a lot in this matter.

If there were no accidents, after his death, the next person to die... would be Susan.

why?

McCall suddenly regretted so much, why did he meddle in his own business, why did he provoke Pushkin?

Of course, it was too late.

"Goodbye, McCall."

David would not give McCall another chance and shot him in the head three times in a row.

Bang bang bang!

The bullet damaged McCall's face and left him unrecognizable.

The moonlight shone down on the sky and the earth, reflecting all kinds of complex emotions in those eyes that could no longer be closed, but were still bright.

……

"Take the taxi away, I will stay to deal with the situation in the supermarket, so I won't send you off."

After David killed McCall, he was not polite and ordered the bullseye in front of him.

"Flipping and denying people, you really have the demeanor of your own brother."

Bullseye clicked and tutted.

"McCaul was offered a reward of 500 million. I originally wanted to give you this money as a reward... If you dare to arrange the boss like this, it seems that you don't want it anymore."

David crossed his arms and looked at Bullseye with a smile.

"and many more."

Bullseye immediately opened the driver's door of the taxi, rolled down the window after getting in the car, and saluted David: "I'll help you drive the car away, please be sure to call me the bounty."

"I don't have your account. Let Wilson send you the money tomorrow."

David nodded.

"You really..."

Bullseye instantly understood that David wanted to take advantage of his boss, with a strange look on his face, seeing David looking at him with a smile, he swallowed back the words that came to his lips.

"You brothers are terrible, I'm leaving."

He drives away.

David watched the yellow taxi leave, looked back at McCall's body at his feet, and sighed slightly.

"Sure enough, killing McCall is not considered as completing the task at all... or completely defeating the CIA's conspiracy."

After David killed McCall, the system did not prompt that the task was completed.

This shows that simply killing McCall did not completely solve the troubles caused by the identity of "Pushkin".

"Now I'm counting on some good news from Wilson."

David mused.

CIA is in the dark, Pushkin is in the light.

To thwart the CIA's conspiracy, the only way is to wait for the CIA to act first.

After all, as a black operation, even if the team sent by the CIA was destroyed, the other party would not dare to speak up.

On the contrary, a gangster takes the initiative to cause trouble with the CIA, which is no different from an old man taking arsenic.

This is the terror deterrent power of official institutions.

Thinking back, David didn't forget the business.

He took a cell phone from McCall and called Mosley, the assistant director of the Criminal Investigation Section of the FBI's New York branch.

A voice came from the phone.

"Hello, this is Mosley, who are you?"

"Hi Mosley, I'm David, remember me?"

"What's the matter?"

Mosley's tone changed instantly, and he became a little impatient, and whispered: "I'm already helping. As long as your people are honest these days, we can continue to operate in another week."

"No, you're wrong... Agent Moseley, I didn't mean to tell you this, it doesn't matter at all. In fact, I'm here to give you credit."

David laughed and said, "Brooklyn Wal-Mart suffered a terrorist attack and its employees were kidnapped. After being notified by an informant in the FBI criminal investigation, Comersley, he decisively led his subordinates to kill the gangsters and rescue the hostages..."

Mosley's breathing quickened.

"Agent Mosley, what do you think of this arrangement?" David asked.

"very good."

Mosley replied decisively, "You are my informant, wait for me there."

"No, you're wrong again, your informant is McCall, a supermarket employee."

David glanced at the corpse under his feet, his tone was smiling, but his eyes were full of indifference.

"Unfortunately, he died because he was eager to save people."

David said lightly: "He is a hero, isn't he?"

"Yes."

Mosley laughed: "He's a hero, no doubt about it."