GIGN is known as the "sword in front of the Arc de Triomphe" and is a special assault team specializing in counter-terrorism. Winter was pinned to the ground and could not move even if he wanted to. One team controlled Winter while the other team rushed up
Upstairs.
"Safety."
"Safety."
"Safety."
"Safety."
The team members who worked together quickly cleared the second floor, and then Damien received a notification from the commander of the gig team: "There is no one here anymore."
At the same time that gign was raiding the small building, the door of the van on the other side of the small building was pulled shut and it quickly drove away from the scene.
At the entrance of the alley, a group of gigs came out in high spirits, followed by the embarrassed Winter. Outside, the reporters who had been arriving for a long time immediately put their flashlights into the air. Even the well-trained gigs could not bear to do so.
Winter couldn't help but cover his eyes with his hands. With his hands cuffed, Winter could only narrow his eyes to a slit.
The efficiency of news in the West is surprisingly high. Reporters worked very hard to obtain first-hand information. One minute later, the news of Winter's arrest was already rolling on the TV.
"Emergency news break. According to the news reported by reporters at the scene, Harry Langdon, the terrorist who caused the bomb attack on Notre Dame Cathedral last night, was successfully arrested. There is no further news yet. Our station will continue to follow up.
Enter……"
"According to the police, at 7 o'clock Paris time, the police received the alarm call and rushed to the scene quickly. The arrest operation was very successful. The murderer of last night's terrorist attack, Harry Langdon, was arrested..."
"Someone took a shot of the arrest. At present, we are still unable to confirm the specific identities of the three people chasing on the roof. This needs further confirmation from the police..."
The media tried their best to report on this incident from all angles. The news that the terrorist who launched the terrorist attack last night was arrested and brought to justice flooded the Internet and various media in a short time. Within half an hour, the matter had spread throughout the world.
All over France.
Somewhere, Solomon Lane was quietly watching the reports in the news. There was no emotion or anger on his face, but there was a sudden "click" sound, and the walnut he was playing with was crushed to pieces.
In the assault vehicle, as the door closed, the noise outside became weaker, and reporters' questions and the click of the shutter could still be heard. Winter's hands and feet were handcuffed to the car wall, and he could only move in a small area.
Twisting, opposite him was a heavily armed Gign warrior.
The car started, the sounds outside gradually subsided, and soon Winter was brought back to the Paris police headquarters.
In the interrogation room, Winter was roughly pressed into a chair, his hands were tied behind his back, and an interrogation light was shined directly into his eyes.
"Tell me, who instructed you to do it?"
Damien leaned his buttocks against the table and threw a stack of photos of the bombed Notre Dame Cathedral in front of him.
Winter didn't even look at the photos. He just glanced around and then closed his eyes, looking uncooperative.
"So tell me what's the relationship between this person and you?"
Damien once again threw a few photos on the table. Winter glanced at them and looked at Damien strangely.
This time it was Owen in the photo. Damien's eyes were full of inquiry, but Winter still closed his eyes.
Bang, uh...
A punch hit Winter's stomach without any warning. Winter's breathing was stagnant due to the blow, but there was still no change in his attitude.
For people like them, torture and extortion of confessions is a common occurrence. At this level of the police, it is no different than tickling someone.
"Give him some color and don't slap him in the face..."
Damien left the interrogation room with just one order. Two of his men started punching and kicking Winter. A muffled sound was transmitted to the observation room next door through the microphone. Damien looked through the double-sided glass with an expressionless expression.
With all this in mind, there is nothing to be polite to terrorists, and there is no need to talk about human rights. It's just that this matter is too big, and Winter will have to meet the media sooner or later, so Damien specifically asked not to slap him in the face.
Winter was being beaten on the other side of the double-sided glass, and Damien's phone suddenly rang. Seeing that it was his immediate boss, Damien answered the call.
"Head...what...Okay, I understand..."
Putting down the phone, Damien was a little unhappy. The Seventh Bureau, the General Administration of External Security, had just called and asked the police to send the terrorists caught last night. They took over the matter.
Although I feel unhappy, I still have to do it. The level of the Seventh Bureau is not comparable to that of the police. One is responsible for domestic security, and the other is responsible for national security.
"Okay, stop it, clean him up, we have to hand him over..."
Next door, Damien opened the door to stop his men's actions, and at the same time gave Winter a sympathetic look. You can imagine Winter's fate. They still have to take care of human rights and influence, but if Winter falls in the seventh round
In their hands, those executioners would not care about this.
Ten minutes later, a convoy of vehicles drove out from the Paris police headquarters with sirens sounding. Four police cars escorted an assault vehicle, and police motorcycles cleared the way in front and behind.
The convoy moved forward, ignoring traffic lights along the way. At each intersection, a motorcycle policeman would block the intersection first, and other motorcycle policemen continued to escort the convoy. After the convoy passed, the motorcycle policeman left and caught up with the convoy.
With the motorcycle police clearing the way, the convoy moved very fast and smoothly, heading towards the General Administration of Foreign Security according to the established route.
In the assault vehicle, Winter was alone in the compartment. As a key subject of attention, his hands and feet were handcuffed to the walls of the vehicle. The compartment was a closed space with only very small ventilation holes in the front and sides, and the rear of the vehicle was blocked by
It's locked from the outside and cannot be opened from the inside.
The convoy is still moving forward, and the motorcycle police are still closing the intersections alternately to ensure the smooth passage of the convoy.
Suddenly, at an intersection, a large truck rolled over because it was going too fast while turning. The fruits it pulled were scattered all over the ground, and the entire road was instantly paralyzed.
Not far away, the motorcycle policeman who arrived first saw this scene and immediately stopped the car. The situation was reported to Damiai. Damiai looked at the buildings on both sides. The motorcade must not stop. No one can guarantee whether this is a
Once stopped, the trap is likely to be ambushed by gunmen on both sides, so changing route is the only option.
After receiving the order to change the route, the motorcycle police had already closed the road and directed the lead car to turn onto the side road, and the convoy temporarily changed its route.
Sitting in the car, Damiai always had an ominous premonition. The probability of encountering a car accident during the escort was so small that he always felt that it was not a coincidence.
The convoy turned onto the side road and moved forward smoothly. There were no ambushed gunmen on the roof, and no other attacks occurred. It seemed that everything was just Damien's unfounded worries.
Winter, who was sitting in the car, also heard the noise outside, and the corner of his mouth curled up.