Chapter 29： : You can die, but you can’t be poor

Poland. Lublin, Black Street.

The street is full of stench, there are vomit under the telephone poles, there are still silk stockings hanging by the trash can, and there are even a few black people lying around. : "Negroescongregateinkennels!"

A silver classic car was parked on the side of the road, half of the windows were slowly rolled down, a hairy hand stretched out, and threw out a garbage bag.

"Do you want some? Italian hot dogs." Osborn, who was sitting on the driver's license, handed the food to John and asked.

"Thank you, no need." John waved his hand.

Osborn shrugged his shoulders, opened his **** mouth and bit the hot dog in one bite, humming contentedly in his throat, suddenly seemed to think of something, straightened up, and took two black-headed dogs from the back seat with great effort. He put on a hood, gave it to John, and put it on by himself, "French, comfortable to wear, that guy has seen me before."

"Are you sure he will show up here?" John asked while putting on the hood and pointing to the 911 bar. He was very suspicious of Osborne.

The Brit peeked at him with both eyes out, swallowed the last bite of the hot dog, bent down, and took out two Mat 49 submachine guns from under the chair, loaded with magazines.

French, just do the dirty work.

"I never doubt myself." Osborn said confidently.

John's face wrinkled in the mask, and just as he was about to speak, he saw the door of the 911 bar being pushed open from inside, and two **** men in suits with their sleeves rolled up, showing tattoos, came out with tires on the left and right. .

"The target has appeared, proceed according to the plan, sit still!" Osborn whistled, stepped on the accelerator vigorously, black smoke rose from the exhaust pipe, and rushed out like a bow and arrow.

The sound immediately attracted the attention of Tire and the others.

Tire's right cheek twitched slightly, and an ominous premonition magnified infinitely in his heart, he shouted, "Go back!"

But at this time, how could there be time?

John opened the window, and his upper body came out, with a cigarette dangling from his mouth, he opened the safety, and fired with a submachine gun horizontally!

chug chug...

It only takes a few seconds for a clip of 32 bullets.

Osborne turned the steering wheel vigorously to the left, and the car as a whole lay horizontally in the middle of the road.

The two of them pushed open the door and went down, facing the injured tire and others, they continued to mend their guns, and they didn't even have time to wait for the other party to talk nonsense, a series of actions were done neatly.

"Withdraw!" Osborne unloaded the magazine with his left hand, quickly took out the new ammunition from the satchel with his right hand, and loaded it. He opened the door and got in. John glanced at it casually. The corpse was smashed. As soon as the car started, it jumped into the trunk. Osborne, who was holding the steering wheel, was like Fangio (F1 racing master!) Possessed, the tires of this car may not be able to keep up with his maneuvers. He got into the alley and disappeared.

A shooting this early in the morning? !

It immediately added a bit of terror to this small city. The Poles thought that the Ukrainians next door were calling. The two countries have a lot of filth in history, and they were too scared to come out.

When the police arrived at the scene, everyone had run away, so they had no choice but to surround the scene and wait for forensic identification.

"A total of 71 eggshells were found at the scene, and 67 rounds of bullets were found on the three deceased. It is judged that the murderer has undergone military training and has certain military skills..."

The Lublin police chief, who heard the forensic results at the time, suppressed the case.

What are you kidding?

military training?

This looks like a vendetta, and Ukraine next door has started to make trouble, so there is no need to find something to do at this point.

then…

When it never happened.

Anyway, if someone dies, or a black person, it won't cause any sensation.

…

And at the Herutfontein Airport at this time, there was also a scene of reluctance.

"Mr. Nicholas, don't you plan to stay for a few more days?" Dalton held Tang Dao's hand, tears were about to come down, the snot was a bit discolored on the black face, he was crying so much Everyone's scalp is numb.

The main reason is that these benefactors are gone, and he will have no money to earn again.

But he heard that this Chinese made millions of dollars here!

Millions of dollars, my God!

If Dalton had so much money, he would have gone to the United States long ago, so he wouldn't have to worry about every day in this **** Namibia, for fear that the rebels would rush in and hang him on a tree.

Tang Dao's face turned red, he pulled out his hand vigorously, his face twitched, and he smiled hard, "I will come sometime." He turned around and prepared to board the plane as he said that, he was taken aback when he saw the empty apron, He patted his head and turned around, "Mr. Dalton, I want to ask, how many aprons are there?"

The old black was stunned for a moment, but his brain didn't come back to his senses.

tarmac?

How much?

Can I still buy it?

Dalton immediately withdrew his tears, and when he mentioned money, he became interested, rolled his eyes cunningly, and stretched out his palm, "Five thousand dollars!"

Tang Dao was about to be laughed at by him.

The total value of the construction of the Herutfontein Airport is only about 1 million US dollars. Of course, this place is small, but the flow of people is also low, and it is mostly used for unloading goods. The flow of goods also dropped sharply, and they began to be unable to pay wages.

$5000?

It only costs about US$1 a day to find someone to fight in a place like Africa, which is enough to pull out a large army.

"For $1,000 each, I'll buy three aprons." Tang Dao said his price.

"1200 dollars!"

Tang Dao is too lazy to haggle over the matter of several hundred dollars with him now He bought the three aprons at the airport mainly for his own waterway. In the future, it is impossible for weapon sales to often use other people's planes, right? Look at the later large arms dealers, who didn't have their own fleet of planes? It was an unscrupulous provocation in the air. If the eagle sauce hadn't been **** off later, the fighter jets went straight into the air, and these guys could drop air over the United States.

After paying the payment very simply, Tang Dao patted Dalton on the shoulder, and under the protection of several strong men, boarded the plane to New York.

Sitting on the first-class cabin, looking at the desert that is gradually going away, with a huge sum of 6 million US dollars in his pocket, Tang Dao can only feel that a bigger wave is coming. narrower as only a few people are allowed to pass.

The business at this time is not the professional class that came out of the ivory tower, the academic school that followed the rules and was full of passion. The businessmen in the 90s were the beasts. They just wanted to open their mouths and swallow what they could hold. dollars.

Have you ever sent a severed hand to the home of the Ukrainian Defense Minister and told him not to meddle in his own business?

Have you ever seen the magic of spending a few cans to buy a few planes?

The world of the 90s was crazy!

It is also full of opportunities.

Being trampled down, beaten to death in the wilderness, or even fed to dogs without a whole body, is better than starving to death on the street at the end, staring at the world of feasting and feasting, looking at the beauties on the sports car for sale. Scratching, watching others eat food that I haven't eaten.

People, can kill!

But don't be poor.

"I will definitely be the top one! I want to be the biggest one." Tang Dao squeezed the blanket on his body tightly, tilted his head and looked at the night scene outside the window, and made a decision for himself in his heart to live and live better.