As a South American nation, even described by a certain Tongliao rat spirit as a peculiar little nation, Suriname naturally has its own unique characteristics.
It's a nation composed of whites, Asians, Indians, Native Americans, and "jungle blacks." Even within South America, where it's already relatively unknown, few people know much about this mere 164,000 square kilometers.
Small countries with chaotic political situations are a favorite trading target for arms dealers; after all, everyone loves clients with deep pockets and deep pockets.
So, when Jack, dressed in a nondescript Dutch general's uniform and gold-rimmed glasses, stepped out of his stretched Lincoln with a small flag draped on the front, while somewhat surprised by his youth, the villa owner, who personally greeted him, showed no suspicion and enthusiastically extended his right hand. After
all, the intelligence described him as a good-for-nothing, second-generation rich kid looking to procure weapons and launch a coup back home. Such a rich kid is a rare find.
"I'm Browning Ovis. It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Papodis."
The arms dealer was about the same age as Frank, in his early sixties, white, and short. His beard and the few remaining hair on the sides of his head were mostly white, but his face was rosy and full of energy.
"It's an honor to meet you too," Jack, speaking fluent Dutch, smiled and shook his hand. Suriname was once a Dutch colony, and Dutch is the official language of this small South American country.
Browning Ovis (Alexander Denning) glanced at the two elderly men dressed as butlers and footmen behind Jack, and without pausing, turned and gestured for them to come in.
Behind him stood two other men, equally burly and heavy-set, with heavy faces, a full head taller than Frank and Marvin.
Meanwhile, in the woods over 500 meters from the villa, two beautiful women, one old and one young, dressed in ghillie suits, crouched behind a bush.
Victoria and Anna, each holding a G28E equipped with a high-powered fieldscope, reported their sightings to each other.
"The 10 o'clock watchtower is over 800 meters away. I'm not so sure. It would be better if Jack were here," Anna whispered.
"Leave that to me. You can deal with the one at 600 yards later."
Victoria glanced at the girl beside her with some surprise. "Honestly, I'm curious. How did you end up with an FBI agent?"
"He saved me in Paris and helped me escape the FSB."
Last night, after going out with someone, Anna, while having a little fun, had heard Jack talk about these veteran agents. She was no longer so wary of this old lady from MI6.
After briefly recounting her past and her "adventure" in Paris, Anna bit her lip and complained with a hint of resentment, "It's a pity we didn't meet sooner. That philandering bastard already has more than one girlfriend."
"But you're still in love with him, and you don't plan to leave, right?" Victoria shrugged, ruthlessly exposing the girl's arrogance.
"He's just my boss now," Anna said, blushing slightly in her defense.
Victoria chuckled twice, feeling a surge of emotion as she looked at the young woman's eyes, which were filled with amorous feelings.
She didn't delve into the topic, but instead asked, "Want to hear my story? I once had a similar experience, and I fell in love with a real agent."
"And then?" After confirming there were no other ambushes nearby, Anna also became interested, her eyes sparkling as she looked at the old woman beside her.
"I was in MI6, and the FSB was still called the KGB back then. Our relationship was clearly forbidden."
Victoria's voice was sweet yet tinged with an indescribable sadness, making Anna turn to look at her again.
"It wasn't until we fell in love that we discovered each other's identities. Although it was eventually confirmed that our meeting was an accident, the truth can't be hidden. You know, even now, most diplomats are assumed to be intelligence agents.
So they began to question my loyalty, until finally, an assassination mission was forced upon me, requiring me to kill him."
"So you..." Anna stopped herself, not daring to ask further. The answer was obvious: since Victoria was still alive, the mission must have been carried out.
"Yes," Victoria's expression was slightly cold. "I shot him three times in the chest."
-
Meanwhile, inside the villa, Alexander Denning welcomed his guests into the living room, but instead of inviting them to sit, he turned on a CD player mounted on the wall.
"Our company has always been committed to humanitarianism, and our highest mission is to spread the virtues of Ziyou and Dish Cuisine."
Amidst this empty speech, the old man mysteriously raised a finger in front of his mouth, silencing Jack, then turned and pressed a button on the wall.
A hidden door opened in the wall, revealing a secret room. Jack nodded knowingly, then smiled at Frank and Marvin behind him, then followed them inside.
Two burly bodyguards stood before Frank and Marvin, expressionless, yet flexing their 36G pecs as if to show off.
Alexander Denning closed the door, only to breathe a sigh of relief when he heard the electromagnetic lock automatically lock. He then proudly introduced the room to Jack.
"This is my safe room. It's 100% soundproof, with a Faraday cage installed, and we check for bugs every day. Even if a gunshot is fired inside, no one outside can hear it."
"No wonder the FBI's surveillance tapes of you are full of nonsense, Mr. Denning. You're such a cunning old fox," Jack said, smiling as he took off his glasses.
The old man, still calculating how much he could make from this round, suddenly paled when his old name was called out. "You're not!"
He slapped him unconscious on the sofa. Jack turned and reopened the door to the secret room. As it opened, two soft "thumps" were heard from outside.
Frank, with some difficulty, helped two burly men, weighing over 200 pounds and already in a deep coma, gently lowering them to the floor. Marvin opened the briefcase and was retrieving plastic handcuffs and tape.
Five minutes later, inside the secret room, three people looked at the old man, strapped to a chair, snoring loudly, with a slap mark on his face, lost in thought.
"What did you do to him?" Marvin looked at Jack suspiciously.
"I just knocked him out, just like you did to his bodyguard." Jack felt wronged. It was the first time he had seen someone who was knocked unconscious by a slap still snore.
"Don't waste time. Didn't you say we only have half an hour?" Frank picked up a glass of cold water from the table and slapped it directly on the old man's face.
(End of this chapter)