My Third Empire

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Greve felt something was wrong on the wine table. His years of latent life gave him a keen sense of a cold breath in the air. The harbinger before this danger did not appear for a long time. The last time I vaguely remembered it was When the gray wolf happened.

He rejected Louis's persuasion, pretending to be drunk and saying he would go to the bathroom, and then flashed out of the room from the back door of the bar. In the alley in the back door, he adjusted his walking speed and walked quickly to his apartment.

Destroy the password book and destroy the telegraph! This is what the poison Greif thinks. As long as the evidence is destroyed, he can escape from birth and safely avoid the doubts of everyone. At this time, you must not be in a mess, but calmly. If you run away directly, he will definitely be caught in Canada. There is no other possibility.

As he approached his apartment, Greve felt that he was about to be out of danger soon, so he accelerated his already hurried steps, as long as the evidence was destroyed, even if he was seriously suspected, as long as he no longer showed his own flaws , You can save your life.

When he walked to the street, he suddenly stopped, because he saw the beggar in front of the apartment door disappeared, and the beggar he sent money to every day did not stand where he should be. For a moment, Greev knew that he had indeed been exposed, and that his apartment had been occupied by British intelligence.

With a bitter grin, Greif had to go forward with a daring scalp. He stood at the crossroads and found that the beggar reached for the passerby to ask for money not far away. While asking for money, the beggar gradually approached Greave who was avoiding the car.

Obscured by a bus, Greif couldn't see the window of his house, and just at this moment, the beggar came to his side and stretched out his palm to Greve. The classic line "OK" is replaced by a simple and clear vocabulary: "Give me!"

Greif's hand had already reached into his pocket. At this time, he took out a small and exquisite notebook and directly stuffed it to the beggar who came up. The eyes of the two men looked at each other for a moment, and they each distanced each other.

The bus passed by, and the British agent leaning against the curtain saw the beggar chasing next to Greif to ask for money, and Greave waved his hand and refused the dirty poor man. He seemed anxious to go home to deal with his radio station and codebook, and had no time to ignore a beggar.

Soon Greif crossed the road and walked to the door of his room. He smiled and pulled out a small pistol from the pocket of his clothes, and then opened his door with the key.

He knew that he must die here today, and died in this enemy's land. His soul will never return to his hometown, and all his contributions to the motherland will not be known to anyone in the future.

In order to protect the German spy network throughout Canada and even the United States, he could not escape or be caught alive. For a moment, he thought of betraying Germany to become a double-faced spy in the United Kingdom or the United States, but he remembered that he issued under the flag The oath-it was the national flag of the Weimar Republic, and now it is already a swastika.

It was really lively in the room. Several British secret agents shot him and didn't hit any target at all. The bullet hit the sofa, made a big hole, and flew the cotton debris inside.

If you know it already, you should practice more marksmanship. Greave smiled bitterly in his head. Civilian spies are actually not as many people imagined. Murders set fire to steal intelligence and even fly across the wall. Is Captain America wearing a suit, code-named 007?

The vast majority of spies are actually very simple. They may be clerk of an organization or an affable old man. The information provided by these people is varied and needs to be analyzed and processed. Of course, these people often have no self-protection if they expose their identities. Means, they went to prison and cried to find death and livelihood, and often betrayed their original organizations in order to survive.

So don't envy any spy. This kind of person catches a lot in real life, life is not exciting at all, and the process is not romantic at all. They may be riding a bicycle carrying a broken schoolbag and stuffing a fool camera into it to become an enemy spy spying on the military, and then hoarding 3 tons of soybean oil in a military barracks in a certain place. It may be necessary to send this kind of intelligence to sell it to hostile foreigners Power-Remuneration can be 50, maybe 100, so you still yearn for this job?

Greif's wrist, which didn't hit any target, was held by a hand reaching out from behind the door, and he had no chance to shoot. As a veteran spy, he also knows that if he does not die at this time, what is waiting for him is boundless torture and abuse.

The jaw was pressed hard, and the potassium cyanide glass container that was pressed under the tongue was crushed when going upstairs, and an unpleasant smell appeared in the mouth. Greve suddenly felt that he could write a novel in his life. For more than ten years, he has lived in an environment where the streets are full of enemies. How many thrilling stories have been experienced during this period, who can know?

"Spit it out!" The British agent, who had put Greif on the ground, looked at Greve in horror, looking at his facial expression that began to twist rapidly, and shouted loudly: "He is taking poison! Put his mouth on the verge Pry away to rescue! "

"It's too late! This smell is potassium cyanide!" The standing British agent frowned and looked at Griff, whose legs were still twitching on the floor, and sighed. This old man used to be a relative of British meritorious service. Many honorable people knew him. The key point is that this old man is over sixty years old. Now that he is dead, it is inevitable that he will be a little sighed.

Greave finally lay motionless on the ground, and the British agent pressing on him stood helplessly, after all, he didn't like to press a man's body. This time the capture work was not going smoothly, the target suicide was successful, and the follow-up interrogation work could not be completed.

"This guy has a codebook and a radio station, indicating that this person is very important in their network. It may be a contact node, or it may be the highest commander. Being able to catch such a big fish, the Intelligence Bureau has already counted on it. "This is the current British Prime Minister's evaluation of this operation. He feels that with this operation, at least most of the German spy operations in Canada can be combated.

His analysis is indeed reasonable, because if an important person in a spy network is arrested, then the network will not be activated again in a short time. After all, no one dares to take risks easily, who knows if the exposed person will confess himself? In addition, the intelligence network that has lost its trust will no longer send useful messages, because these messages can't be used as a reference because they can't tell the truth.

At the crossroads, the beggar sat so lonely, reaching out to the passing British agent to beg, with a broken hat in front of him, looking pathetic. British agents carried Greif's body past him. Old Greif's distorted face scared him to flee away. This kind of panic act teased the vigilant British intelligence agents around him.

"Ding Dong." A broken British agent threw a penny coin of the smallest face value into the broken hat in front of the beggar before hitting the car, hitting a few coins that were already inside, making a crisp sound.

Then came the roar of the car's engine, and one car followed the other and left here, as if nothing had happened.

The beggar watched these people leave, then got up and walked in the other direction. He walked very casually, and reached out to every passer-by who passed by. He disappeared all the way to the end of the road, and no one could think of it, he would never appear here again.

Back in his dim hut, he took a small radio from the corner. The electronic technology department of Siemens in Germany has worked **** the issue of radio miniaturization in recent years. Now the radio stations used by German agents are only the size of a folded chess board, which is very easy to carry and hide.

Turned on the radio and passed the news of the poison's killing back to Berlin. Then he turned off his radio station and looked at the little notebook where the poison was left by him.

This is the spy network that poison has developed over the years. This network can be said to be the achievement of poison Greif in his life. Now this achievement has been handed over to the beggar, who has the responsibility to take over the network and continue to operate, and even expand the scale if possible. They are the people who live on the tip of the knife, and the fear of death hangs over their heads all the time, but every day at sunrise, life still continues, without interruption.

With a sigh, the beggar closed his notebook. The spy network left by Greif was too large, and taking over was never something that could be done in a day or two. It seems that the British did take advantage this time. The German enemy ’s intelligence operations in Canada had to be in a state of paralysis for at least half a year.

Putting the notebook written in cipher language into the drawer, the moment the beggar closed, the beggar's movements stopped, he saw a paper box in the corner, so he reached out and took the box out.

Open the box that has been worn out a lot. Inside is a small iron tube similar to a bullet shell that is about two centimeters long and one centimeter in diameter. This small iron tube protected the glass container inside, containing potassium cyanide enough to kill him dozens of times.

The beggar remembered the twisted and painful face of the poison he saw-it turned out that the end of eating this thing was like that.