Chapter 1217: "Old Friends" Reunion and an Arrow From Many Years Ago

Although Europe and the United States do not have the famous saying of Mencius, "Born in sorrow and die in comfort", there is still the concept of establishing a powerful external enemy to divert internal conflicts.

Since the suicide disintegration of the red empire, the living conditions of ordinary people in Europe and the United States have been getting worse and worse.

Although the old Americans claim to be a beacon, when the red beacon really collapsed, in just a few decades, the good life that a family only needed one blue-collar worker to work to support a family of four or five plus two dogs, and could go on vacation every year, was completely gone.

So the big Russians found tragically that even if they took the initiative to abandon ideology, they still could not join the big European and American family they longed for.

All problems, after being processed by the propaganda machine, will eventually be attributed to the evil giant bear.

Of course, after the new century, with the rise of a certain big country in the East, similar propaganda calibers began to change, and the big Russians could only continue to play the big villain in film and television dramas.

After all, it doesn't matter if you talk nonsense every day. The Seres generally won't see it no matter how the news is written. But if it is made into a movie, it will really lose a huge box office with a population of more than one billion.

Jack doesn't have the stereotype of the usual old Americans, but he, an FBI agent, followed a retired CIA to visit the Russian embassy, ​​which inevitably made him feel a little nervous.

After all, the Russians may not do anything to him, but if the bureau finds out, he can only retire early and become the CEO of a non-listed company with assets of billions of dollars.

Compared with Jack, Frank is much calmer. He walked to the door and pressed the call button on the electronic doorbell directly in front of the surveillance camera, just like visiting.

"Notify Ivan Shimanov that Frank Moses is visiting."

There was almost no waiting time. The door opened automatically with a click. As soon as the two pushed the door in one after another, a group of Russian soldiers surrounded the hallway with AKs.

As the black hoods were put on their heads, Frank and Jack were pushed and shoved to the underground.

"Not even a glass of water. It seems that they don't treat you as a guest." When there was no one around, Jack took off his black hood.

This place didn't look like an interrogation room, but rather a warehouse located underground. There was a table and three chairs temporarily placed there. It was a bit too empty, and even whispering had a slight echo.

Although he teased Frank, in fact, such treatment had exceeded his expectations. Not only did they not put handcuffs on the two, they didn't even search them seriously, and their attitude was kind.

Frank didn't answer, but looked at the metal stairs they had just walked down. A slightly bloated figure was staggering down the steps.

"To be honest, your visit really surprised me, Frank Moses."

Along with the figure, the other party's English with the unique tongue-twisting sound of the Maozi appeared, which gradually became clear under the dim fluorescent light.

"I can't remember how many times I've killed you in my dreams." An old man with thick hair and beard, wearing a purple patterned suit, sat down opposite the two of them, showing off a small switchblade in his hand.

"But now," with a smile of successful prank on his face, the fat old man took out a bottle of vodka from the drawer and put it on the table, "You are actually a pensioner too."

"I've been retired for several years. I must admit that at least in this regard, you beat me, Ivan." Frank's cheeks twitched, making the wrinkles on his cheeks more obvious.

Ivan Shimanov happily cut the seal of the bottle with a knife, then took out two glasses from the drawer, then glanced at Jack next to him, thought about it and took out the third glass.

"Time flies. The older you get, the less you see things. So who is this young man? Your student?"

Frank pushed the first glass of wine to Jack, "This is Jack. He is my partner for now. He is not the same as us. Have you heard of David Rossi?

He is his teacher. If you are murdered one day, you can ask him for help. He will definitely find the real murderer."

"FBI's Behavioral Analysis Department?" Ivan Shimanov curled his lips in disdain. "I can't believe that you Americans are still using dogs and whistles to find criminals."

Ah, is the old Russian's understanding of psychology still stuck in the Pavlov era? It's really a stereotype.

The protagonist at the moment is Frank. Jack did not explain or make any rebuttal, but chose to continue to watch the two people's "reminiscence".

As the three glasses were filled one by one, Ivan Shimanov looked at Frank with a dangerous look, "The first glass of wine, for Igor who was killed by you."

"You mean the executioner Igor?" Frank raised his eyebrows, as if he didn't understand why he mentioned this name.

"He is a great assassin." Ivan said with gritted teeth.

"He is also a fool." Frank's face remained unchanged.

Ivan's eyes were slightly red, and he emphasized again, "He is my cousin."

Frank was stunned, hesitated for a moment, and the hand holding the glass stopped in mid-air, "I'm sorry about this."

Ivan raised the glass and clinked it with him. Although he had a smile on his face, his eyes were extremely dangerous, "So, toast to Igor, the executioner."

No mistake in one post, one content, one book, one forum, one 6, one 9!

The two clinked their glasses, and before drinking the glass of wine, Frank said calmly, "But he didn't die?"

Ivan, who was almost choked, put down his glass and looked at Frank in disbelief, only to hear him continue to say lightly, "I let him go."

"How is this possible?" Ivan was so shocked that he almost jumped up.

"He now runs a convenience store in Orange County, and he now weighs nearly 500 pounds."

"Oh!" Ivan exclaimed, then covered his mouth and laughed wildly, and Frank couldn't help laughing.

Jack on the side was puzzled. Perhaps only the old man who had come from that era with them could understand this kind of sympathy that was slowly established in the life-and-death struggle.

Ivan clapped his hands excitedly, picked up the bottle and refilled the glasses in front of the two, then raised his eyebrows at Frank jokingly, "Continue."

"Who is this glass for?" Frank's big bald head was slightly sweaty after drinking at least three taels of Red Brand Vodka in one gulp.

The tense atmosphere between the two men disappeared, just like two old friends who had not seen each other for many years.

"For my two lovely daughters, Natasha and Talia." Ivan took out two photos from his chest pocket and put them on the table, showing a doting look.

"Crack!" The chair under Jack's buttocks made a harsh friction sound, attracting the attention of the two old guys.