Chapter 536 Taban
The boy was blindfolded and pulled out of the carriage. Someone kicked him in the buttocks and forced him to kneel on the ground.
Then Pashto mixed with Spanish started to ring in the ears of the boy who was sitting on the ground. These people had thick accents and spoke quickly, almost like they were yelling, which made people a little upset. It seemed that they were starting from the boy on the ground. There was an endless argument about something, with foot-stomping and cursing coming out from time to time, and then being suppressed by higher-decibel rebuttals.
While they were arguing, the blindfolded boy began to analyze the surrounding environment. From the surrounding temperature, it was not difficult to guess that he was in the desert of Afghanistan. The temperature in the desert outside the city would be higher than that in the city. It was about ten to fifteen degrees, and now his senses told him that he was now in the hinterland of a desert area. As for which desert it was, it was difficult to further determine.
Kneeling on the ground, someone suddenly put a gun to the back of the boy's head and forced him to bend over. While bending over, the boy gently reached out and touched the ground. The artificial concrete floor looked like a spacious open space. The faint sound of footsteps on the concrete floor could be heard fifty meters away, so the area of this area would not be smaller than this range.
Huh?
The boy was a little surprised in his heart, because now it seemed that he had indeed arrived at the right place. The white hat who smuggled people in the slums by the Kabul River seemed to have really not lied to him. He paid him with one hand and led the way directly to the "Tower". "Class" interior.
I really don’t know what kind of skills that white hat has so well-versed. What the US military has not been able to do for several years, he took a bundle of banknotes from me and packed them up in just one sentence. It’s just that the service on the road is not very good. Wearing a hood that smells like sweat is suffocating.
The gun pressed against the back of the boy's head opened the safety and pulled the bolt.
The boy sounds like an old M16A4? Isn't this the standard equipment of the US military? Where did these guys get it?
But when this question came to him, he suddenly shook his head, feeling that he had come up with a stupid question. If these guys don't get these equipment, how can the US military have a reason to come and stop the atrocities they use to bring about the equipment?
The yelling around the boy became louder and louder, and when the situation seemed to be getting out of control, the boy suddenly spoke, using pure English without any accent. Everyone present fell silent for what he said. It seemed a little quiet, because the content of the boy's words was a bit unbelievable.
"I came to see Raman al-Zawahiri. I have important matters to discuss with him. I must have made a mistake by kneeling here now."
These were the boy's original words. When these words came out, the surroundings fell into dead silence, but a few seconds later, the venue burst into laughter and almost overturned. Some of them turned to the crowd in the distance and shouted Pashto The words were repeated again, causing more exaggerated laughter, until finally the hood on the boy's face was suddenly pulled off.
The intense light shone on the boy's eyes. He couldn't help but squint and look up at the scorching sun in the blue sky. When he lowered his head and looked around, he found that he was kneeling in the middle of a huge open space.
The open space is about the size of three or four basketball courts. On the edge are built earthen houses that are common in Afghanistan. It is like a strict base. Men with beards and white robes are constantly coming in and out of the entrance. Many arms are piled under the awning. , patrols holding standard equipment were patrolling the outside of the base with a stern expression. Outside the base was a short mountain, which was full of artificially dug caves. There were either piles of arms or high-ranking people hiding in them.
In the center of the open space of the base, there was a whole row of people kneeling. Everyone had their heads covered by hoods. They were lying on the ground with their hands and their whole bodies were shaking. The boy was the first in this row, and there were a few people standing around him. Four or five bearded men with weapons emerged from the delivery truck.
The boy raised his head and looked at a bearded man standing in front of him. In fact, he couldn't tell the difference between the looks of Middle Eastern people, especially those with beards. He had to put a normal civilian and an uncle pulling a lamp together and let him choose. The chance of him choosing the uncle who pulled the lamp was really 50% if he was shot.
"You said you wanted to see Raman al-Zawahiri? Do you have something important to talk to him about?" The only thing that could be distinguished about the bearded man in front of the boy was that the other person was holding an M16A4, while he believed in AK, with a joking look on his face. It was interesting to watch the dying prisoner ask in thickly accented English.
"What's wrong? Is this funny? The deal between me and the contactor is that I pay, and he gives me a channel to send me to see Raman al-Zawahiri." The boy facing the sun squinted at the bearded man and thought to himself At least there is someone who understands English.
"But the deal I got from the contact was that I paid him, and he gave me the suspects on the resistance list." The bearded man raised the muzzle of his gun and gently raised the boy's chin.
"Do you think I look like an Afghan?" the boy looked up and asked.
"It's not like that, so this is why I argued with our companions before about whether we brought the wrong person." The bearded man looked at his companions and laughed, then poked the boy's chest with the muzzle of his gun, "Tell Me, Asian, your name.”
"My name? Lin Nian."
"Are you from the resistance?"
"Have I eaten too much and come all the way to Afghanistan to support the local army in counter-terrorism?" Lin Nian said looking at the bearded man.
"You have a bad temper!" The bearded man turned to look at his companions and said in surprise. Everyone burst into laughter again, looking at the boy as if they were watching the dead man's last performance before his death.
"What are you laughing at now?" Lin Nian, who was on the ground, moved his neck and bent slightly to glance at the long queue on the left.
"Do you think you can escape death if you can pronounce the leader's name?" The bearded man crouched down, held the gun, looked at this interesting boy and said with a smile, "We were discussing whether you were like a infiltrator. Spies in the base, some people say they are ready to lock you up and torture you, use irons to burn your chest and beautiful face, but some people don't want to cause more trouble and just shoot you through the head with a gun. You think the former is better. Or is the latter better?"
"Thank you." Lin Nian withdrew his gaze from the team and focused his attention on the bearded man again.
"What are you thanking?" The bearded man raised his eyebrows.
"I didn't listen carefully just now, but I vaguely heard you saying that I'm pretty. You should continue to study English for a while, and the word should be 'handsome' instead of 'pretty'." Lin Nian explained.
The bearded man was stunned for a moment and then his face darkened. He stood up with a curse, kicked Lin Nian in the chest and knocked him to the ground. He then picked up the muzzle of the gun and put it against Lin Nian's forehead and put his hand on it. On the trigger.
"Raman al-Zawahiri has a younger brother named Raman Kabdola. I recently heard that he has returned to Afghanistan. In order to welcome his younger brother, al-Zawahiri dispatched half of Taban's troops on the border of Afghanistan. I had a fight with a group of mercenaries from unknown forces and suffered heavy losses, but I managed to get my brother back."
The hand of the bearded man who was about to pull the trigger was suddenly stuck by such a call. After hearing these words, the faces of everyone around him, including those who understood English, changed, while those who did not understand English stood aside. After a few words of translation, the companions all looked strange.
"How do you know these things?" The bearded man finally realized that there was something wrong with the identity of the boy in front of him. He pressed the gun against the boy's chest and tried to use the pressure of death to make the boy submit, but the boy seemed not to be afraid of death at all. Sitting on the ground, looking at him calmly, he continued:
"Raman al-Zawahiri founded the terrorist organization 'Tabaan' at a young age and in less than three years saved enough start-up capital through human trafficking and organ smuggling, through several successful bombings of US embassies It gained international attention and also ushered in vigorous clearance from the US military.”
"But what is very surprising is that in every local battle, even if the equipment and personnel training are far behind, the final result of the war is that terrorist organizations have repeatedly won great victories. In the words of the US military stationed there, it is 'Taban 'The terrorists are as if they are blessed by their gods and are not afraid of life and death, don't know pain, and win every battle. In normal terms, they can still get up and continue charging like no one after being shot twice until the blood dries out. It was this anomaly that put Taban at the top of the list of international terrorist organizations and even approached the top of Al Qaeda."
Lin Nian paused and then said, "But this abnormality only lasted until five years ago. Five years ago, there was an internal turmoil in 'Taban'. Many people died mysteriously at night. After that time, 'Taban' The aura of divine blessing on Ban's body completely disappeared, and its members became ordinary people who were afraid of pain and death, so the influence of 'Taban' in the local area plummeted."
The bearded man's expression began to change. He turned around and whispered a few words in local dialect to the person next to him. After hearing this, the person immediately lowered his head and left. In front of him, the boy continued to talk calmly. Telling this bizarre story, "Some people say that the leader of 'Tabaan' has offended the gods, while others say that 'Tabaan' has been despised by the desert for his crimes. In short, there are many different opinions on what happened that night, but very few Someone has really paid attention to the fact that the number of people who died mysteriously in the Taban camp that night was indeed countless, but what really deserves attention is a missing case among the many deaths."
"Raman Kabdola, one of the founders of the terrorist organization 'Taban', as the chief strategist of 'Taban', he was not assassinated, but disappeared, and few people know about it. In fact, the real secret of 'Taban''s invincibility lies not in the awe of mystery but in the awe of the terrorists' leader's brother. As long as he is missing, 'Taban' will be just a nameless and small-time thug. Just a motley crew."
"Who are you?" The bearded man's voice became fierce. He put his finger on the trigger and started to press it down, but he seemed to be afraid of something and didn't dare to actually press it.
"I originally wanted to say that I was just a spy from another country who controlled intelligence to fool you or something. The reason was that I wanted to meet Raman Kabdola, but now it seems that I don't have to work so hard to be a spy. ." Lin Nian glanced at the man in white robe who had run away, "By the way, I know Pashto, but I only learned it for half a day, and now I can only listen but not speak. But since you have just If someone goes to inform Raman Kabdola that a visitor has arrived, then I can save a lot of worry. After all, it means that he is indeed here today."
"you"
Lin Nian suddenly raised his hand. No one could see his movement clearly. There was a clicking sound in the air. It was the mechanical jamming sound of the trigger being pulled down hard but not reaching the end. The bearded man lowered his head. Looking at the trigger, a thumb gently hooked on the underside of the trigger, and an unquestionable force prevented him from firing the bullet in the chamber.
"Don't ask me who I am again." Lin Nian said, "I have already told you my name, and I will not say it a second time. But what I can tell you is that I came here just like the time five years ago. It's the same person, but the only difference is that the last commissioner came at night, and I happened to be at noon. And the same as last time, some of you will probably die."
He stood up with the AK-47 and casually flipped off the trigger of the machine gun. The bearded man was directly pushed to the ground by the terrifying force, and then looked at the people around him who started to chaos, roar, and raise their guns to aim. The terrorists said calmly, "Well, a lot of people died."
ps: As of today, I have updated 80,000 words this month. There are screenshots on the workbench to prove it. Two updates a day is more than enough. Why are there still people saying that I am always busy? If I say I will make up for it, I will definitely make up for it. Will your brother Shui lie to you? (
It’s okay to urge people to update, as long as they are rational, but forget about personal attacks.
I took the time to take a look at the book circle and found that "Water Guards" has been trolled. I don't even look at the book review section. I don't even check the subscription status. I just think about writing when I am in good condition. When I'm not in a good state, I just fish for it. I don't have much thought. How come I have so many twists and turns in writing a book as soon as I break the code?
It's okay to urge updates, but it's my duty to be sensible and update. I know this. I used to be very touchy, but I didn't really talk about this kind of thing. After all, being fishy is not something worthy of praise for the author. There are a lot of things that urge me to make up for it, but I just can’t stand the bullshit and dare not talk about it, but I still ask you to be gentle. I will probably make up for it the next day if I don’t do it one day, everyone understands this.
that's all.