Beauty Man's Myriad Hearts

"Congratulations, you guessed it correctly. You are indeed a top CIA agent. Not only is he highly skilled, but he is also very clever."

David laughed and clapped.

He leaned on 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 limbs, and his whole body was weak. There was neither sympathy nor hatred in his eyes, it was like looking at a dead man.

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

The other party told me the astonishing secret about Pushkin's true identity so easily, so how could he have the conscience to let go of his dying self?

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

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

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

McCall laughed, showing his bloody teeth. He looked very free and easy. There was no fear in his eyes, but he was just a little unwilling.

As an agent, he had been prepared to face death many years ago.

"You can't tell, or you don't know?"

David touched his chin, shook his head, and was a little disappointed: "It seems that I have overthought it. You are just a retired agent. Even if the CIA takes action, you will not be included..."

Hearing these words, McCall's face suddenly twitched.

"How do you know? Where do you know it?"

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

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

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

Only a very few people know that they are still alive.

Who leaked the news?

Is there a mole?

McCall frowned and couldn't figure it out.

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

David shrugged: "Robert McCall, as a tool, you are excellent. Sadly, you have thoughts that you shouldn't have. You want to live an ordinary life... But the result is that you will never

It’s a tool. I always feel that killing and violence can solve everything. I can’t live my life and be myself.”

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

McCall repeated the question, his eyes filled with extreme mania.

Bullseye saw this and was very interested.

Of course he could see that David was torturing McCall.

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

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

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

"I can only answer, it's not Susan."

David took out a gun from his waist and aimed it at McCall's head, making McCall realize what he was doing.

McCall breathed a sigh of relief, first with relief, then with fear.

The good news is that the person who betrayed him was not Susan.

The fear is that McCall knows that David has figured out his network.

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

Moreover, Susan played a big role in this matter.

If nothing unexpected happens, after you die, the next person to die will be Susan.

Why?

McCall suddenly felt extremely regretful, why did he meddle in other people's business and why did he provoke Pushkin?

Of course, it's too late.

"McCall, goodbye."

David would not give McCall any more chances and shot him three times in the head.

Bang bang bang!

The bullet damaged McCall's face, leaving him unrecognizable.

The clear brilliance of the moonlight shone across the sky and the earth, reflecting the various complex emotions in the eyes that could no longer be closed but were still bright.

…

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

After David killed McCall, he ordered Bullseye in front of him without any courtesy.

"You turn your back on me and don't recognize anyone. You really have the demeanor of your own brother."

Bullseye clicked his tongue.

"McCall has been offered a reward of 5 million. I originally wanted to give you the money as a reward... If you dare to arrange the boss like this, it seems you don't want it anymore."

David crossed his arms and looked at the bullseye with a smile.

"etc."

Bullseye immediately opened the driver's door of the taxi, rolled down the window after getting in, and saluted David: "I will help you drive away. Please be sure to pay me the reward."

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

David nodded.

"You really are..."

Bullseye instantly understood that David wanted to take advantage of his boss, and looked strange. When he saw David looking at him with a smile, he swallowed the words that came to his lips.

"You brothers are too scary, I'm leaving."

He drove away.

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

"Sure enough, killing McCall doesn't count as completing the mission at all... it still completely defeats the CIA's conspiracy."

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

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

"Now let's hope there is some good news from Wilson."

David pondered.

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

The only way to thwart the CIA's conspiracy is to wait for the CIA to take action first.

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

On the contrary, if a gangster blatantly takes the initiative to find trouble with the CIA, it is no different from an old man taking arsenic.

This is the terror deterrent power of official institutions.

The thought came back, and David didn't forget about business.

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

A voice came from the other side of the phone.

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

"Hello, Mosley, I'm David, do you 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 reopen the business in another week."

"No, you're wrong... Agent Mosley, I'm not telling you this. It's not important at all. In fact, I'm here to give you credit."

David smiled and said: "There was a terrorist attack on the Brooklyn Wal-Mart supermarket, and employees were kidnapped. After being notified by the informant, Agent Comosley of the FBI Criminal Investigation Department decisively led his men to take action, killed the gangsters, and rescued the hostages..."

Mosley's breathing quickened.

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

"very good."

Mosley responded decisively and immediately: "You are my informant, wait for me there."

"No, you are wrong again. Your informant's name is McCall, a supermarket employee."

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

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

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

"Yes."

Mosley laughed: "There's no doubt he's a hero."