Entering the security room, Ronan closed the door. The black man had been handcuffed to a chair by Solomon Lane's men behind his back. His dark head was lowered, and he didn't know what he was thinking.

Ronan pulled up a chair, sat opposite the black man, kicked his injured leg, and with a scream, the black man raised his head.

"Don't kill me! Barney Ross forced me to come!" He didn't want to die: "If I don't come, he will kill me, really!"

Ronan pulled out the dagger and slapped the black man on the face: "Do you recognize it? Yesterday, you stabbed me with it!"

The black man tilted his head back hard: "I didn't stab you, it was Gordo who stabbed you!"

Ronan turned the blade over: "You don't want me to stab it back, answer my question."

The black man rolled his eyes: "I said! I said!"

"Do you know Church?" Ronan asked: "How can I find him?"

The black man said: "I know Church, CIA's special agent chief, Langley's big shot, our mission, no, Barney Ross's mission, is to accept Church's employment."

Ronan asked again: "How can we find him?"

The black man didn't want to offend CIA, so he shook his head quickly: "I don't know."

Ronan turned the dagger, stabbed it directly into the black man's leg, and turned the dagger: "This will help you regain your memory."

"Stop! Stop!" the black man howled miserably: "I said! I said! Today, today, Church called Barney Ross on his cell phone and asked him to rush to Bucharest. It seemed that there was an important task. Barney Ross said that Church would personally do it.

Go to Bucharest.”

Ronan remembered the mobile phones he found, took out two mobile phones, and asked: "Which one?"

The black man looked at Nokia: "This!"

Ronan put it away again: "How to connect it."

The black man quickly said: "I don't know, I really don't know..."

Ronan asked again: "Who provided you with the intelligence in Madrid."

"People from the CIA." The mercenaries were very rough in their work, far less refined than the agents. The black surgeon followed him all the time and heard a lot of things: "The CIA's intelligence chief in Madrid."

Seeing that Ronan wanted to twist the dagger again, he quickly said: "This man's name is Andres Pique. He came to Madrid on our behalf and works in the public utilities department. I don't know the details."

Ronan nodded and asked some other questions.

Black people do not have a high status in the team and their knowledge is indeed limited.

Ronan pulled out the dagger, and the black man screamed in pain.

"Let me go! I promise I will never come to Europe again..."

Ronan said softly: "You stabbed me."

So, he stabbed him back!

Harvest soul fragments, soul fragments 6!

Ronan left the security room.

Jens Herten was still waiting outside: "It's done."

Ronan said: "You can take people away." He saw Solomon Lane: "I wonder where Andres Pique is, maybe he works in the public utility sector."

Solomon Lane had just received three million euros and was in a very good mood. There was a name and a department, so it was easy to check: "I will give you the answer before dawn."

The people from the Syndicate finished cleaning up and evacuated the sanatorium separately.

Ronan put away his things, then left, took the mobile phone he picked up, and called Katarina as agreed, and she told Oro Ibia that the matter was over.

…………

Thirty-two-year-old Andres Pique has worked in the Madrid Public Utilities Department for more than eight years and is a very capable supervisor.

Because of my special job, I have been single.

At six o'clock in the morning, Pique got up and looked at his phone, but there was no new message.

Yesterday, the group of mercenaries from the United States asked for information from the hunting palace, and they might take action. There has been no movement until now. Will there be an accident?

Pique hurriedly washed up, had some breakfast, and went out to prepare contacts.

He picked up his bag and left the apartment. He frowned slightly when he saw the slightly dilapidated house.

On this trip, the mercenary will receive a reward of US$5 million for killing the terrorist named Ronan.

If you provide such great logistical and intelligence support, you should get a share of it.

If you can kill that Ronan, you have a share of the credit!

Piqué went downstairs, walked to the nearby Harvest Goddess Square, bought a newspaper, sat down on a bench, and waited patiently.

Due to the Spanish lifestyle of going to bed late and getting up late, there were very few people in this time square.

From time to time, Pique put down the newspaper and looked around.

Not far away, there was a middle-aged tourist holding a camera and taking pictures of the statue of the goddess Cibeles.

Judging by the white scarf around his neck, you can tell he is a Real Madrid fan.

The man looked towards him, then came over with a smile and pointed to the statue of the goddess behind him: "Sorry to excuse you, can you take a photo for me with the statue as the background?"

While he was talking, the person came closer.

Pique didn't think anything of it at first, after all, it was a common thing in the square, but when he quickly came up to him, he realized something was wrong.

Before Piqué could react, the middle-aged tourist held down his shoulders with one hand and strangled his neck with the other hand and twisted him hard.

Pique's last memory was hearing a crisp click and then falling into boundless darkness.

The middle-aged tourist struck someone with his left hand, left the Harvest Goddess Square, walked around the streets and alleys, entered the increasingly crowded market, and quickly disappeared into the sea of ​​people.

Peake sat blankly on the bench, like a tired and asleep person.

It wasn't until more than half an hour later that someone realized something was wrong and called the police.

…………

In a street cafe, Ronan, who looks like an ordinary Spaniard, is sitting in front of a street cafe, drinking coffee, eating breakfast, and reading today's Aspen newspaper.

The entire front page of the newspaper carried only one piece of news: French high-end cosmetics brand Ouya is suspected of using corpse oil and girly body scent as raw materials to make cosmetics and perfumes!

The report is well-founded and has pictures as evidence, revealing a criminal industry chain from the South American island of Bilena, to the Albanian gang in Paris, to Oubiya and Grandma Fragrance!

Everything can only be described as shocking!

Many customers in the cafe are discussing this matter. Even though information is more advanced nowadays, many people cannot describe this kind of thing in other words except shock.

Ronan put down the newspaper and took a sip of bitter coffee.

No matter what, it is a good thing for the media to report it.

As long as one major media reports on it, other countries will not be far behind.

It seems that the British have always been at odds with the French.

He had heard all the gossip and madness in the British media from as far away as southern Xinjiang.

…………

On this day, almost all the British media, like a carnival, frantically attacked the neighboring country separated by a strait.

As if a shark smelled blood, Fleet Street immediately dispatched capable reporters to France and South Africa. ******bc and Sky TV started special news programs in the morning, taking advantage of the television media to broadcast a large number of pictures and video evidence.

, let the French be indisputable!

The British fell into an orgy of daily insults, mocking the French as to which side of the flag they were going to cut off this time.

London, an old tailor shop that looks ordinary.

Anna was doing some chores when Galahad, who came to see her, received a call and quickly turned on the TV and switched to the BBC news channel.

Hearing the news, Anna turned her head and looked at the TV picture.

While playing the photos and videos, she unknowingly let go of her hand and the measuring tape fell to the ground.

In a daze, tears fell down.

Because she almost became one of the victims.

If that person hadn't traveled thousands of miles to save her, she might have become someone else's cosmetics or perfume.

Galahad consoled him: "It's all over, just treat it as a dream."

But Anna said: "Uncle Harry, when I close my eyes, those are the companions who were killed. I can't forget it, and I can't forget it in this life."

Galahad put it another way: "Downing Street is making preparations to put pressure on the French government and finally get some justice."

Anna remained silent, these nightmares would haunt her for the rest of her life.

Pain, regret, joy, sadness, and various complex emotions always enveloped her.

Anna's face no longer has the dimples caused by the sweet smile.

After a long silence, she made up her mind: "Uncle Harry, I want to ask you a question."

Galahad nodded slightly.
To be continued...