Chapter 1089

The soldiers of the revolutionary army sat on the airship and hummed the labor chant. At night, the humid cloud shrouded the muzzle of the gun, and everyone's eyes twinkled like stars. In the distance, Comstock's house showed half a bright outline under the moon. In the farther and higher sky, the prophet's warship floated, looking at it is only a silent short shadow in the iron gray cloud.

Looking at the young people and soldiers around, Booker's intestines and stomach cramped. He wanted to vomit, but he couldn't eat all day. His stomach was empty. His hungry stomach was shriveled. I'm afraid he could only vomit some sour water. Booker gently rubbed the carbine in his hand with the belly of his right index finger. The steel and cherry wood butt gave him different feedback. The former was like velvet and satin with static electricity, while the latter made his fingernail numb.

If the past twenty days passed faster than the galloping horse, ran from one end of the plain to the other in the blink of an eye, and crossed a wide river, nothing could stop it, then the war would stop the horse like an old forest. The thick humus soil is so soft that it can sink the horse's hooves deeply. The trees and vines and undulating roots along the way are also called galloping horses, falling and bruised all over.

Wheezing——

Buck heard the horse's snort in his ear. In fact, it was just the sneeze of a young black officer named George. People around hurriedly said: good health!

The respected tutor Booker stared at the dark sea of clouds in the night sky and smelled the smell of iron and fire, which was like a raven. He couldn't help thinking of the massacre of the Indian aborigines he had participated in at the wounded knee River, and the crimes he had committed in this extremely vicious, terrible and inhuman activity. These sins have not been far away from him. Someone must remember what he did, and his burning of unarmed Indian women and children will meet a fair trial. Booker is not a good man, just because he has money, so he is a great good man among other people, a capable and responsible social elite.

In fact, Booker was a hundred times worse than the New Yorkers secretly thought.

Maybe Booker has become a noble man now, and maybe Booker in the future will make indelible great contributions to the common future of mankind, so great that all morality and law judge his merits and demerits. But his crime cannot escape the boundaries of human ethics. Ethics is not mathematics. What is wrong will not become right, what is right will not become wrong, and right and wrong will not transform into each other.

Booker will give his own atonement, and the notary who judges his behavior is not God or the court, but Elizabeth. She is the purest and freest person buck met in his life. If such a person can't judge Buck's sin, he can only linger in hell - let him keep remembering the hurt knee river again and again and never get rid of this pain.

"Sir, we are close to the target." George reported solemnly with a gun in his hand.

There are only 20 people on the assault boat. They will follow Booker into Comstock's house. Part of the remaining troops will be used to contain Colombian reinforcements and part will be used to storm the prophet's hand warships. According to the best estimate, if Booker and others can rescue the hostages within half an hour, they can evacuate easily. If the time is delayed to more than 50 minutes, the guards of all Colombia may gather here, and the risk faced by the rescue team will be uncontrollable.

"Go ahead as planned, break in."

The assault boat dived towards the ground, and the machine gunners on the deck fired at the guards on the ground. Brass bullets jumped on the Chengxin Avenue in front of the prophet's house. Tens of thousands of red sparks jumped out of the shimmering darkness in a second, and the shot guards fell down one after another.

In the distance came the cry of nightingales, and the airship carrying two great masters hovered on the roof of the house. The two stupid, loyal and powerful biochemical reformers threw the ignited explosives into the sky with their steel arms. The explosion light and shock wave smashed the clouds, and there was a silver moonlight on the road in front of the Comstock house.

Booker and his team jumped the boat at the main gate and ran towards the house.

There are a large number of guards in the residence. Booker and others use Comstock's statue and hall decorative columns as shooting bunkers and staggered forward. He is undoubtedly the sharpest. A variety of abilities give him strong attack ability. We have never seen anyone control so many abilities at the same time. This may be Booker's talent. His genes can withstand power potions. Coupled with his excellent combat quality, it can be easily concluded that these guards can't stop his pace.

Through the towering dome, the battle between the Nightingale and the giant craftsman continued, the shock of steel and muscle shook the whole house, and the dust rustled down.

As they got closer and closer to the target, gradually, the roar of the machine and the cry of the girl became clear.

When Booker heard Elizabeth's plea, he roared angrily, like a lion.

The mansion is like the castle of a medieval Lord. It is wide, heavy and complex in structure. The simple revolutionary army has blasters. It was eleven forty-one at night, and Elizabeth was still suffering at a time when everyone should rest.

Comstock doesn't know that he is a stick, a political madman, a chauvinist, and an evil slave owner. In his mansion, there is no dance, no lazy aristocracy, no Symphony Orchestra and well-dressed bartender. Some are automatic machine gun guards, some are police forces, some are large prisons, brain science laboratories, operating rooms and imaging rooms, some are bathtubs, some are body incinerators, and some are patients' clothes, mental patients and victims of brain experiments.

In finkton, the founder of finkton industry broadcast his shameless remarks all day, asking workers to be a painstaking bee (bethebee!), Refute the voice of the people as a trafficker of false dreams, provoke internal fighting among workers and thieves, and instigate people to report to each other. He used brainwashed guards and mechanical guards with rotating machine guns to suppress the strike, making finkton a de facto eating factory. All this is more intuitive in Comstock's hands. He will directly ask scientists and doctors to remove part of people's brain, give them psychological hypnosis and spiritual hint, and turn people into domesticated animals through Pavlov training method. All these evil acts are unreserved and undisguised in this luxurious and sacred house. The political enemies and opponents of the prophet suffered this torture. The senior security officers who knew all this were also trembling and restless. They would rather die under the bullets of the revolutionary army than be caught in the laboratory. The blood debt seen by Booker and others has made people angry. How on earth did a man like Comstock get rid of guilt and make such neurotic behavior? In any case, a devil who boasts justice can best justify himself and attract the recognition of fools. He can only be persuaded by death. Booker and the brave soldiers broke into the operation hall. Elizabeth was trapped in the siphon device. These machines were sucking her energy, making her unable to resist. The cold-blooded experimenters stabbed the electric shock into her spine on the operating table. The smell of iron and fire filled the nasal cavity. Booker saw the galloping horse again. He was staring at Booker in the corner, waiting for him to roar and crash into all the cages“ Kill them. Turn off the machine. " Booker ordered so.