Through the car window, looking at the gradually darkening sky outside and the rapidly retreating guardrail trees, Basong felt uneasy for some reason.
At first he didn't care, because it was a common thing, and no one could really feel at ease doing side business, not to mention that what he was doing was smuggling and human trafficking.
The former was okay. It was his first line of work. It was considered his ancestral business. He owned two delivery fishing boats. Then by chance, he realized that giving away people was much more profitable than delivering fish, so he became a smuggler and started smuggling people.
Living. This is a normal thing in their hometown fishing village. Unless they are unlucky enough to be found at sea, no one will care about it.
As for the subsequent human trafficking, it is just a matter of letting nature take its course. As for stowaways, they have no relatives in a foreign country. Unless they have a place to stay that has been contacted in advance, they are jobless vagrants. They spend a period of time in confusion and cannot find a job.
, when their savings are gradually exhausted, it is too common for men to end up on the streets and women to fall into the world of prostitution.
Realizing this, Basong felt that the opportunity for his own prosperity had come again. Instead of letting these stowaways suffer and eventually fall, it would be better for him to give these people a ride, detain them in one step, and then sell them.
Go. In this way, you will benefit, and the stowaways will have a place to stay. You will kill two birds with one stone. How great!
Okay, these are the words Basong used to comfort himself when he first started working as a kidnapper. I don’t know if he said it too much later, but he really believed it, and his work became more and more unscrupulous... Start with caution...
The target persons were selected, and later they contacted other stowaway boats to seize them all. The business also started from simply selling money per head, and later divided into categories, even down to parts, that is, buying and selling organs...
"How long until we enter the city?" The uneasiness in his heart became stronger. Basong adjusted his sitting posture unconsciously, turned his head and looked at the truck following behind, and asked.
"It's almost ten minutes." The driver sitting in front replied casually while smoking a cigarette.
Basong felt relieved after hearing this. It would be easier once he entered the city. He could go directly home, and the truck carrying people behind him would go to the abandoned factory. Even if something happened at that time, it would have nothing to do with him. At most, it would be nothing to do with him.
Just send some money and you can settle it.
He touched the Buddha statue hanging around his neck. It was gray and gray, and the gold paint on the outside had long since peeled off. According to his wealth, he shouldn't have worn it. It was too cheap. But when he was just born, his mother bought it from a nearby temple.
Qi Lai has been wearing it closely for decades and has never had any accidents. At the same time, his career has become more and more prosperous. This time, I think it will be no exception.
Thinking like this, Basong's uneasiness finally dissipated. Well, after this time is finished, I will take the time to go to the temple to worship and give more money for sesame oil... At this moment,
"Diwu—diwu—"
Amidst the harsh sound, a police motorcycle accelerated past the car and stopped in front of it. The patrol officer on top of it was making a pull-over signal towards the car.
Basong and others in the car were stunned when they saw this. The driver subconsciously stepped on the brakes, picked up the walkie-talkie next to him and cursed: "Chaiwang, are you speeding?"
The reply on the intercom was unfair, "No, brother, I have been following your car."
"Where did the patrol come from? Damn it!" The driver turned around and looked at Basong, "Boss, what should I do?"
Looking at the patrolman who was gradually approaching, Basong frowned and said in a deep voice: "Go down and ask what's going on. Just deal with the minor problems and don't let him check the car behind. If it doesn't work..." After a pause
, with a gloomy expression and cut his palm down.
"Understood." He nodded fiercely, and his companion sitting in the passenger seat pushed a black pistol. The driver glanced at it and didn't answer it. He smiled and took out the wrapped cigarette from the fender and raised it, "No need.
This is enough."
He rolled down the window first, then opened the car door, and greeted him with clasped hands: "Hello, police officer, you are still on duty so late, thank you for your hard work."
The patrolman glanced at him and pointed to the truck behind him: "Is this your car?"
The Thai accent was a little stiff and the accent sounded a little weird, but the driver didn't notice this. After meeting him, he was muttering to himself about how handsome this policeman was. It would be great if he was a stowaway. He would definitely be able to
Sold for a good price... Okay, this is jealousy. He pretended to look back at the truck: "Oh, yes, it is our company's delivery truck. What, is it against the rules?"
Taking out his notebook and looking at the license plate of the truck, the patrolman said without raising his head: "The line is over, driving notebook."
When the driver heard this, he immediately breathed a sigh of relief. He put his arm behind his back and waved it. Then he stretched out his hand to block it with a playful smile: "You don't have to do this, officer. It's a small problem, please let us go."
As he spoke, he skillfully put the cigarette in his hand. However, the patrolman raised his hand to block it and said expressionlessly: "Bribery?"
The driver's expression was stagnant, and he forced a smile and said: "What are you talking about, police officer? I don't even understand it. It's just a pack of cigarettes. How can it be considered a bribe? It's filial piety. Look at this late at night. I'm on duty alone."
It’s really hard work…”
"Drive Ben!"
The driver stopped talking, his eyes flashed, but the smile on his face did not diminish. He held a cigarette with a smile and said meaningfully: "It's hard work, but you must also pay attention to your own safety. What happened in this wilderness?"
,No one can say for sure, right, officer?"
The patrolman paused after hearing this, raised his head, and said in a stiff tone that was word by word: "Are you here, threatening me?"
"Oh, how dare you, I, I, I..."
In the middle of the sentence, his tongue suddenly became knotted crazily, his eyes widened, and his face looked as if he had seen a ghost with a fearful expression. However, after putting away the record book, the patrolman in front of him took out a gun from behind, and it was a micro-charge!
It was too late to regret it. The driver’s head was filled with explosive questions. Are all patrol officers so irritable now? They draw their guns when they disagree with each other? Or is it a submachine gun?!
Silly, I watched the submachine gun raised, panned, pointed at the car, and pulled the trigger. "Ah——" Subconsciously holding his head and squatting on the ground, he could only hear the deafening clicking sound of shooting in his ears, and countless bullet casings were like
Like rain, it fell on his head, body, and the ground beside his feet, bouncing and making tinkling sounds.
Click, the empty magazine fell. Before it hit the ground, the clicking sound of shooting sounded again. Perhaps it was a brief adaptation. This time, in addition to the intensive gunshots, the driver also heard a little sound of broken glass and a faint tragic sound caught in it.
Call.
I don’t know how long it took, but the gunfire finally stopped and silence returned.
The driver looked up blankly. The police uniform figure that had turned into a terrifying nightmare in just a moment was not there. He turned around and saw that the cabs of cars and trucks were riddled with holes and broken glass scattered all over the floor. It was all too familiar.
The silhouettes of his companions lie down or look up, motionless.
With a crash, the back door of the slightly deformed car was forcibly pulled open, and a figure fell down. It was Bassong, the boss, with wide eyes. The bullet holes in his body from countless bullets were still steaming. The ground in front of him was shattered.
of Buddha statue.
Click, click, took two photos, put away the mobile phone, and walked back the same way with the micro-charger, lowered his head to meet the driver's gaze, and still said in that weird tone: "Are you here, threatening me?"
"I, I, I...yes, I'm sorry..."
"Ah, I've learned this word before. Let me think about it... Well, it means sorry, right?" This time he spoke fluent English, with an authentic London accent. The patrolman, well, it was Tang Dynasty, shrugged
He shrugged and simply raised his gun, "Sorry, I don't accept it!"
Click, click, click, three consecutive rounds, which were also the last three bullets in the magazine. After shooting, I didn't even look at the results. I just threw away the microflush, got on the motorcycle, and drove away.