CM The future I see without you

Jacques leaned on the high wall, watching the people in the opposite building through a high-powered lens. It was Natalie and Levine leading the rescue team to negotiate with each other.

In fact, it's more of a negotiation than a delay. Before the other party reacts, let Dean find the detained researchers in the building.

The hissing current in the headset suddenly dropped, and someone joined the channel.

JAcques heard Levine's voice rising, "Dean, something's wrong here, we're about to lose them, where are you? Have you found someone?"

Dean's heavy breathing sounded, and Jacques heard the creaking sound of his ventilating fan, but before Dean could speak, a sharp gunshot exploded in his ears, Jacques was startled, and the earphones followed There's a groan of pain, it's Natalie.

"Quick retreat!" Natalie yelled viciously, fighting back with a gun in her arms.

The chaotic gunshots hit the young man's eardrums with full force, and the old brick wall was broken into sand under heavy blows. The strong wind blown by the bullets blurred the vision of the high-power lens. Jacques squinted his eyes and lay dormant. On the high wall, quietly waiting for the opportunity, helping Natalie deal with several enemies who wanted to go around behind them.

To say they are enemies is a bit reluctance, Jacques saw them wearing uniform blue and white gowns similar to bathrobes, holding an assault gun or a worn-out AK in their hands and rushing around. Like a desperate man with nowhere to go.

"There are too many of them." Levine took a low breath, taking advantage of the time to change magazines, and said, "The information is wrong."

Natalie glanced fiercely at the exit of the aisle, and asked in a low voice, "Where is the support? Why is there no movement at all?"

Levine couldn't answer this question either. He gritted his teeth and pulled the soldiers rushing in front back behind him, while fighting back, shouting loudly: "Dean! Back off!"

Dean naturally heard the gunshots below, but he didn't even have the strength to stand up himself.The agent was leaning halfway against the wall, pressing the bleeding wound on his abdomen with one hand, and pointed the gun at the man looking down at him with the other hand, saying, "Let go, we still have a chance to negotiate."

"There won't be any."

The man in blue and white striped clothes seemed to have heard a joke, he twitched his mouth, his eyes were cold and paranoid, he raised his other hand to help his glasses that had slipped on the bridge of his nose, and said calmly: "This A bomb was planted in a house, and no matter what the result is, we test subjects will be killed here. Mr. Detective, negotiations are meaningless to us at all."

He looked strange, and his wide sleeves slid down with his movements, revealing his forearm full of pinholes and blood.

Dean's breath stagnated, resisting the dizziness caused by excessive blood loss, and asked through gritted teeth: "What do you want? At least give us one condition. And, even if you don't want to live, what about the people below? They are also willing To die with you?"

The man tilted his head slightly. He hid in the dark and saw the bright sunlight shining on the cold floor tiles through the gaps in the thick curtains. His expression was a little dazed and he murmured: "I helped them end all this, they should thank me."

The man quickly came back to his senses, squatted down, patted the detective on the cheek with the butt of his gun, and said, "Do you know what they injected us with?"

"what?"

The man propped his chin, looked past Mr. Detective's pale face and landed on the fainted researcher behind him, and slowly stated: "Actually, I don't know what that kind of thing is called. They never talk to us, but when the time comes, After injecting those things, we will be locked in the experimental cabin and wait for the effect of the medicine to take effect."

After finishing speaking, as if remembering something, the chill in his eyes deepened, and he fell into silence.

Dean pulled himself together, and suddenly found that the companion standing behind the man disappeared at some point, except for two very slight breathing sounds, the sealed room fell into absolute silence with the man's silence.

Too quiet.

Dean gasped for breath in a low voice, the blood from the abdominal wound fell drop by drop on the ground, making a ticking sound accompanied by a strong stench.He suddenly realized that one more thing had also disappeared.

It is the slight sound of the ventilation fan turning.

The man blinked, and suddenly dropped the gun in his hand on the ground, the metal block collided with the stone brick and made a dull sound, Dean trembled all over.The man continued: "The people who were injected with the drug were fine at first, but then they became more and more afraid of the sun, and many blisters would form on the skin when they touched the light. When the blisters burst, the pus and blood inside would flow out and touch other There will be new blisters in the place. In the end, there is no good skin on the whole body. But they can still live, watching themselves become something inhuman and ghost, and finally die of pain."

"But compared to us, they are really much luckier." The man showed a miserable smile on his face, and said, "Those people are not satisfied with such an effect at all. They need a faster one. After 10 minutes, the drug in the body can be activated to produce biologically active enzymes. Those enzymes can melt the proteins in the body."

The smile on the man's face faded, neither sad nor happy, he stared at the detective's face, his eyes were as calm as a dead sea.

"You want them to have a taste of that," Dean said.

The man raised his eyebrows and said, "Yeah, otherwise wouldn't it be too unfair?"

Dean fell silent. He saw the broken glass bottles on the laboratory table, and the transparent liquid dripped onto the floor tiles, dissipating into the air as the temperature in the room gradually increased.

As his gaze shifted, the man moved from the reagent to the white coats of the researchers, as if reminding him, and said, "Do you know which transmission route is the fastest?"

Dean scowled and replied, "Breathe."

**

"Shoot them as soon as they get out." Dean's hoarse and deep voice came from the headset with hissing electricity from far away, Jacques' breathing stopped, his fingers tightened suddenly, and then he heard the steady voice again ,"This is an order."

Sweat flowed down the hair into the corners of the eyes, mixed with dust and constantly irritated the cornea, which was a little painful, but the young man resisted, did not blink, and then heard himself say: "No."

"It's an order, Jacques." Dean's voice was flat, but serious.

"We can wait for backup," Jacques said.

The high-power lens can't see the specific situation of Dean. The window is covered by heavy curtains. Jacques feels a little panic in his heart. He doesn't know why Louise's eyes appear in his mind at such a tense and fatal moment. He thinks of the day he went to claim his father's body Louise did the same thing when she was in the hospital, thanking the forensic doctor in a flat voice, as if nothing happened. At that time, I was still dissatisfied with her ruthlessness, but after a long time, I realized that it was because my heart was dead. Only when the heart is dead can people lose their emotional fluctuations.

"Jacques." Dean cut off the channel abruptly, leaving the young man alone.

The hiss of electricity in the headset got louder, he heard his heart pounding against his chest wall, Jacques slowed his breathing, and heard Dean's last command clearly.

Jacques turned subconsciously. When the camera found Natalie, Levine had already dragged Natalie, who was shot in the left leg, to the exit of the gate. Even though she was shot in the calf, Natalie still had a determined face, and she handed over her back to her teammates , holding a gun in his arms and slapping the people inside fiercely.

None of the 15 members of the rescue team that came in together could hold on. Natalie threw away the goggles that had been shattered by the shrapnel, and she and Levine hugged the most numb strafing back to back.

The bullet casings were mixed with screams and glass shards splashed everywhere, scarlet blood dripped all over the ground.

How much blood can an adult have in their body? Natalie couldn't remember clearly, the warm and viscous liquid splashed onto her face, and then trickled down a little bit, she only felt despair and fear.

Although she has worked in Syria for many years, she has never experienced such a desperate gun battle.Because the opponent is not a strong soldier, but a white-haired old man, immature child, and a teenager with tears on his face. Those slender arms can't even withstand the recoil of the gunshot.

But they are still persisting, their eyes are panicked, they are desperate to push, crowd, trample, and smash with all tools, trying to find a way to escape...

And the obstacle standing in their way of survival is themselves.

It is difficult for Natalie to describe the indescribable complex feeling in her heart. She watched batches of people fall in front of the high-speed rotating steel core bullets, but there were still people rushing behind, falling, and then rushed out the door.

The people who rushed out of the door hugged the sun happily, and then began to scream terribly. Natalie watched as their skin gradually broke open, blood gushed out of their throats, and finally the whole person was exposed to the sun Turned into a puddle of blood.

Even so, the people behind struggled to get out.

Dean's order finally sounded in the headset, but it was: "Retreat!"

"What?!" Natalie yelled in shock, "And you? Where are you?"

Dean didn't answer, and Levine repeated loudly, "Back off!"

Natalie wanted to rush in, but she was shot in the leg, and within a few steps, Levine grabbed her belt and dragged her out.

"Dean! Dean hasn't come out yet! Are you leaving him alone?!"

Levine pursed his lips tightly and dragged Natalie towards the outside without saying a word.

The summer sun in Damascus was exceptionally bright, and the light scorched the young man's back. Jacques glanced at the camp and the direction where the Syrian government troops were stationed from a distance. Those two political strongholds were surprisingly quiet, as if hearing and vision collectively failed today.

"Dean, we're out." Levine was out of breath, and he threw the exhausted pistol on the open space with a fierce look on his face. The hot iron smashed a hole in the sand, and the sand splashed like crystal water. .

Jacques then heard the crisp sound of locks coming from the headset, and the protection system was activated. Not only the laboratory area, but the entire building turned into a huge tight steel box.

The only leak is the window directly facing Jacques.

□□, the window, the bomb, at this moment formed a perfect angle, as long as the trigger is gently pulled, everything can be over.

The voice in the headset gradually dissipated, Jacques slowly pulled the trigger, all the noisy sounds suddenly fell silent, and he was still thinking about what Dean said.

He said, "I'm sorry."

What is he sorry for?

Jacques couldn't figure it out. He was dazedly watching the golden sun fall on his face, and heard the sharp glass shards piercing his chest with the heat of the explosion and swimming in his body, cutting him all over with bruises.The shock wave of the explosion hit again, and the bones of the young man's body were on the verge of breaking. Natalie's desperate scream came from afar. Jacques wanted to respond to her, but when he opened his mouth, blood gushed out.

**

It took about a month for the news of the explosion in the Damascus laboratory to reach the ears of Lindsay Al-Assad, who was on a business trip in the UK. At the beginning, I saw the names of the colleagues who were studying with me.

The man on the opposite side became uneasy because of her suddenly gloomy face, and asked in a low voice, "Doctor, what's the matter? Do you know those people?"

"No, I don't know you." Lindsay Al-Assad denied subconsciously, but his eyes were still fixed on the TV screen.

The beautiful female anchor quickly passed all the important news. Through the gorgeous and excellent language art, the human experiment that violated human nature turned into another failed bomb attack by terrorists. The customers in the coffee shop nodded slightly, and for the first time Praise for the presence of U.S. troops.

Lindsay Al-Assad breathed a sigh of relief, she smiled apologetically at the man opposite, and said, "I still need to think about this technology..."

"It is a pity that during this mission, Agent Dean Tavoularis did not... sacrifice in time..." The female anchor showed a little grief on her face, but she still finished reading the speech plainly, and waited for Lindsay to raise her head in disbelief. By the time she was there, she had read where Agent Dean Tavoularis' body would be escorted home shortly.

"Doctor, doctor, you, what's wrong with you?"

Lindsay turned her head in a panic, her beautiful big eyes filled with doubts.

The man whispered, "You, are you crying?"

Lindsay touched his face, and there were water stains on his fingertips.She opened her mouth to say sorry, I went to the bathroom, but she opened her mouth, as if her throat was blocked by cotton, and she couldn't say anything.

She pushed away the chair and stood up staggeringly, and accidentally overturned the cup on the edge of the table, and the hot dark brown liquid spilled all over the off-white dress.

The man stood up in surprise, but the woman went to the bathroom in a daze as if she didn't feel it.

After a long time, the customers in the coffee shop changed from batch to batch, and when the store started to sell their lunch specials, the woman finally came out from the bathroom. She probably reapplied her makeup, her gaze Plain, like nothing happened.

She sat down and said, "I can give you all the details of that technology, I just want one thing."

The man breathed a sigh of relief. He even calmed down and straightened his tie before asking, "What?"

The woman smiled and asked, "Do you know Mr. William?"

"There are quite a few MPs named William, so I don't know which one do you want?"

The woman pushed the phone over, and on the screen a middle-aged man in a black suit smiled very kindly.

"It's him, I know."

"I just want one thing in his hand."

The man smiled contemptuously: "Don't talk about the one thing in his hand, it's him, if you want it, I can afford it."