Spy Wars: I am the Captain of the Military Police

Zhou Zhengqing's footsteps made a slight echo on the cold concrete floor.

The cold air deep in the tunnel, a mixture of rust, mildew, and a hint of blood, seemed to be diluted by the sweat and gunpowder smell coming from the team members.

He glanced sideways at Makarov beside him, and his deep voice was particularly clear in the claustrophobic space: "Your team members... are very good."

This concise compliment brought a proud and wild smile to Makarov's rugged Slavic face, and the muscles on his shoulder blades twitched slightly. "Boss. We are professionals."

However, this smile only lasted for a moment before it was covered by a layer of loss, and his tone revealed an unconcealable anxiety and longing: "Even if I stay here underground every day... like a mole, never seeing the sun, even the sharpest blade will be blunted.

We need a fight! A real fight!

I need the smoke of gunpowder to choke my lungs, the bullets to grazed my scalp, the blood of the enemy to irrigate the thirsty land, and the deafening explosions to shake my bones!" He clenched the MP34 in his hand tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force.

Zhou Zhengqing could clearly feel the bloodthirsty impulse in the other party's words that was almost tangible.

His eyes narrowed slightly, and he met Makarov's eyes, which were filled with strong hope, and said in a deep voice: "Well, I know, I know, when the time is right, I will let you appear on the real stage."

"Boss!" Makarov's eyes lit up instantly, and with an eagerness almost like a child asking for candy, "You said it yourself!

The Volga is my witness! You must keep your word... "

Makarov grinned, revealing his white teeth, and said half-jokingly and half-seriously: "Otherwise, I will hold a whole box of the best vodka, kick open the door of your office, and ask you for an explanation!

Don't stop until you're drunk, or... maybe even have a fight!"

The corner of Zhou Zhengqing's eye twitched imperceptibly.

Faced with this loyal yet wild Slavic man who might turn his "request" into a "violent appeal" at any time, he was speechless for a moment and could only utter a barely audible hum in his throat. . . .

After just a few words of conversation, Zhou Zhengqing arrived at his destination, the prison door that was gaping like a monster's mouth.

The playful expression on Makarov's face instantly vanished, replaced by a hardened wariness.

Without any words, he just raised his left arm suddenly, and his five fingers made several extremely concise tactical gestures quickly and accurately.

Like mechanical parts receiving silent commands, the team members who were originally tightly surrounded instantly dispersed.

The two team members pressed their backs against the damp and cold wall, like stone statues blending into the shadows.

The other three people half-crouched silently on both sides of the cell door, lowering their center of gravity, holding their MP34 submachine guns steadily, with the muzzles tilted downward at a warning angle, and their eyes scanned every inch of space inside and outside the door as sharply as searchlights.

Breathing was deliberately suppressed, and the entire passage was filled with a suffocating silence of anticipation.

Zhou Zhengqing knew that Makarov was intentionally showing off in front of him, just like a new employee who always wanted to show off.

"Relax, Makarov, we are one of them." Zhou Zhengqing said with a smile.

And at that moment, the distorted, intermittent, strange laughter, accompanied by a sharp and piercing sound like a broken bellows mixed with metal scraping, floated out from the depths of the cell without any warning.

This time, it was clearer and thicker, like a cold snake's tongue licking the eardrum.

This time Zhou Zhengqing heard it more clearly, and could even feel a creepy, inhuman excitement in Sakurako's meaningless and weird laughter.

Makarov's huge body silently moved sideways, like the solidest shield, completely blocking Zhou Zhengqing and the unknown scene inside the door.

He did not look back, but just turned slightly sideways, and carefully and slowly put his head towards the door like a beast before hunting.

After a long while, he retracted his head and nodded towards Zhou Zhengqing with a very small but extremely clear movement, and nodded his chin towards the door, indicating that he could go in and take a look.

At this moment, the remaining fear in Zhou Zhengqing's heart caused by the strange environment and the terrifying laughter had long disappeared.

Instead, there was a calm and steady attitude given by the extreme professionalism displayed by Makarov and his team.

And the curiosity was completely aroused by the continuous weird laughter.

Taking a deep breath, my nostrils were filled with a complex smell mixed with dust, blood, disinfectant and the sweat of the team members.

Following Makarov's example, Zhou Zhengqing leaned forward slightly, his movements deliberately cautious. He slowly moved his face closer to the edge of the cell door that exuded an ominous aura, and carefully poked his head in to see what was going on inside.

However, Zhou Zhengqing's sight had just touched the swaying shadow in the cell, and before he could focus...

boom!

A brutal force like a battering ram suddenly hit his shoulder blade!

It's Makarov!

The reaction of this Slavic giant was so fast that it surpassed nerve reflexes. It was purely a fighting instinct forged from flesh and blood.

Zhou Zhengqing was knocked back half a step, and at the same time, a sharp sound pierced the dead silence and exploded in his ears!

Ding--!

Sparks flew! Just half a meter away from where he had originally poked his head, a fresh scratch on the iron frame of the open prison door was hissing and emitting green smoke.

A slender conical dagger fell to the cold concrete floor with a clang. The tip of the blade was still vibrating and humming, emitting a cold blue light in the dim light.

"So annoying!" A female voice, sharp enough to scratch the eardrums, exploded from the depths of the cell, with a mixture of neurotic excitement and extreme impatience: "If you want to see it, just come in openly!

"If you dare to stick your head out like a rat again!" The voice suddenly rose, like shattering glass: "The next knife will shoot through your throat!"

Zhou Zhengqing's face darkened at a speed visible to the naked eye.

From astonishment to fear, it finally solidified into a dark blue before a storm, with veins throbbing on his forehead and his jawline as taut as a fully drawn bowstring.

"Hey, BOSS, are you... okay?" Makarov laughed dryly, his eyes quickly scanning his boss's face which looked like he was about to face a storm.

With a start in his heart, Makarov immediately turned around and shouted towards the cell, his rough voice filled with undisguised gloating: "Hi! Beautiful Miss Sakurako!

Looks like you're in big trouble today!"

"Bakayaro!" He was answered by a hysterical curse in Japanese, accompanied by the dull thud of something heavy hitting the wall: "Take your group of gorillas with all muscle and no brains, now! Right now! Get away from me!

If you dare to disturb my art again, I will make you all into specimens!" Sakurako's voice was distorted and almost broke, revealing an irrational madness.

Makarov was stunned by the scolding, then turned around exaggeratedly, shrugged his shoulders hard towards Zhou Zhengqing, spread his palms, and made a complex expression that was a mixture of helplessness, innocence and "Look, I can't control this crazy woman."

Dead silence.

Only Zhou Zhengqing's heavy breathing echoed in the passage.