Chapter 967: Ride of the Valkyrie

"Ah!"

Time went back to 5 minutes ago, Lanston punched Reacher in the face, but accidentally injured his little finger, and cursed in pain.

"God knows, I had planned it all, get paid, wait for a while, and then I can retire quietly."

The old man rubbed the back of his hand and cursed loudly. Around him and Reacher, there stood seven or eight former NYPD black police officers holding various guns.

These are his old subordinates who have followed him for many years. When they were still in the NYPD, they were all grasshoppers on the same rope. Over the years, Lanston has never let any of them down, so even in front of so many people, he can still speak freely.

"Swan, that idiot, started asking around and found helpers. My carefully designed plan was ruined by him and his friends."

Lanston gave up punching and kicking Reacher, who was handcuffed to the chair, and changed to a more insulting slap in the face.

"But it doesn't matter. I can modify the plan and sign the documents in Swan's name. If the FBI or something comes to investigate, it will look like he did it.

Swan made the deal and disappeared with the money, and I can still enjoy women, sunbathing and cold beer on the beach."

"But now, because of you, you and your remaining team members, this plan has become a piece of shit again!"

He took out a pistol and pointed it at Reacher's bruised face, "I'll ask you one last time, where are your team members now? What do you plan to do?"

Reacher spit out a mouthful of blood foam and grinned. Although there was blood between his teeth, his smile was extremely bright. "You look angry, but I'm curious, can you really enjoy women at your age?"

Lanston couldn't help but hit him again with the butt of the gun. It was obvious that he had been beating people unilaterally, but he was so tired that he held his knees and gasped for breath, which made the scene in front of him look a little funny.

If you ignore the bruises on Reacher's face and the blood at the corners of his mouth, the sadists and the masochists inexplicably give people a sense of dislocation.

"You're a stinky, stubborn bastard, just like the soldiers you once commanded." Lanston finally caught his breath, his anger was almost vented, and the threat turned into inducement.

"You know what? I originally proposed to give Swan a share of the pie, and this suggestion also applies to you. Tell me the whereabouts of your accomplices."

Reacher raised his bruised eyelids and tried to ask in a calm tone, "Where is he?"

"You mean your friend? He's here." Lanston suddenly realized, "Is this why you're here? You want to see him?"

The old man showed a malicious and sarcastic smile on his face. Under Reacher's gaze, he walked to a cabinet, opened a drawer, and took out a glass jar full of liquid.

The glass jar was full of transparent liquid. What was horrifying was that an eyeball and a finger were soaked in the transparent liquid.

"See? Sometimes, if you want to frame someone, you don't need his whole body. I only need his fingerprint to pass the computer verification to sign some documents.

You only need one eyeball to pass the iris verification, to scan some specific locations in and out of the headquarters building, to create the illusion that he is still alive."

Seeing Reacher reluctantly turning his head away, Lanston deliberately walked in front of him and gently shook the glass jar in his hand, "He insisted on pretending to be a hero and didn't want to say anything, but I still found out the other three people.

Is this the idiot you taught? Haha, so this is all your fault. You taught them to meddle in other people's business. It was you who caused them to lose their lives."

Lanston was talking nonsense while observing Reacher's expression, but still got nothing. Knowing that he couldn't force the big guy to surrender, he felt a strong sense of uneasiness in his heart.

But things have progressed to the last step. He can't think of what damage the other side's four or five people can continue to cause to his plan, especially when their commander is still in his hands.

Langston is an old black cop who doesn't like to leave any traces behind. Just like he was able to escape from the NYPD unscathed, he firmly believes that he can do it this time.

But when he thought about having to leave the country and hiding his identity at a high cost because of those few fish that slipped through the net, he couldn't help but feel irritated, so he planned to do something that would make him feel better.

Langston handed the glass jar containing Swan's eyeballs and fingers to a subordinate, "The reunion party is over, flush these away, we shouldn't leave any evidence."

Then he pointed at Reacher, "Find a stretcher bed, and get him on the helicopter when we leave."

Reacher still looked at the subordinate expressionlessly, and walked into the bathroom with what might be the last trace of Swan left in this world, and his handcuffed to the back of the chair quietly touched his heel.

At this time, there was a loud noise outside, followed by a strange sound of music.

"I'm not the lucky one, no

Some people are born with a silver spoon in their hands

Lord, will they save themselves? Oh

But when the tax bureau comes knocking

Lord, that house is like a clearance sale, yes

"

"A runaway truck?" Lanston put down the walkie-talkie and was startled, realizing that it might be Reacher's companion outside, and then sneered.

"Notify the helicopter to start, let's get out of here." He strode to a row of servers, opened the cabinet door and pulled out the hard drive inside.

These hard drives contain all the information of the "Little Wings" project, and maybe they can be used to make another deal with the middleman later.

This old black policeman who has worked in the NYPD for more than 30 years knows very well that official actions cannot be so reckless. Moreover, using a truck to crash the door instead of a police armored vehicle is obviously the work of Reacher's companions outside.

However, before he could make any moves or give any instructions, another explosion was heard, and the surroundings instantly fell into darkness, only the indicator lights of various colors on the servers continued to flash.

As the generator started to run automatically, the emergency lights came on, but the whole room was no longer bright as before, but fell into a dim light.

"What the hell is going on?" Lanston tried to make his eyes adapt to the sudden change of light and dark again, and he didn't notice that Reacher, who was originally handcuffed to the chair, had disappeared at this time.

The singing from outside suddenly disappeared, and the rhythmic gunshots and the panicked counterattacks and screams of the guards could be vaguely heard, giving people the illusion that all this was unreal.

The music sounded again, but this time it was no longer singing, but the symphony "Ride of the Valkyries". At first, the prelude was a little vague, and just when everyone was in doubt, another loud noise came.

The lowered rolling door was deformed and twisted, and the all-black Pontiac Firebird roared into the room. During the 90-degree drift, the car body hit an armed security guard at the door and flew out.

Jack didn't turn on the car lights. In the dim light, only a scarlet streak on the front of the car moved back and forth, as if the eyes of a ferocious beast were scanning everyone in the room.