Capítulo 1350: Chapter 653: Ancient Punishnt!
Gilbert was held alone in a sowhat tidy room deep within the stronghold, not even a cell, more like a simply furnished guest room.
The Italians treated him fairly well.
The food was hot, there was coffee, and even a nice bottle of Italian red wine. The guards didn’t insult him much during their conversations.
This special treatnt made Gilbert’s tense nerves relax a bit.
Maybe…
Because the Italians had been captured too? So they sympathized with each other?
He sat at the edge of the bed, the humiliation of surrender diluted by a sense of luck.
The Italians perhaps valued exchanging interests more? Or were concerned about international influence? As long as he wasn’t imdiately handed over to the xicans, to that mad dog Victor, there was still room to maneuver.
He swiftly calculated possible negotiation chips in his mind.
Secret accounts? Hideouts of other Cali top officials? He believed his value was enough to save his life.
Just as he raised the cup and took a sip, trying to calm his thoughts—
“Bang!”
The room door was violently flung open!
Four or five fully ard Italian soldiers stord in like wolves.
They didn’t hesitate, nor did they offer any explanations, they directly pounced on Gilbert.
“What are you doing?!” Gilbert’s cup slipped and shattered on the ground, his horrified attempt to retreat was instantly countered as two strong soldiers pinned his shoulders down, his arms were brutally twisted behind him, with the plastic strap clamping onto his wrists with a “clack,” causing him to gasp in pain.
Another two soldiers quickly pressed him to the ground, knees bracing against his lower back and legs, immobilizing him.
“Let go! You promised ! Guaranteed my safety!” Gilbert struggled on the ground, his face pressed against the icy floor, shouting hoarsely, his voice distorted by fear, “Rossi! Colonel Rossi! We agreed! You can’t do this! I have value! I can give you…”
His words were abruptly cut off.
A large hand rudely stuffed a sock into his mouth.
The disgusting scent assaulted his nostrils, causing him to make choking “mm-mm” sounds.
Almost made him vomit.
His eyes bulged with terror and suffocation, bloodshot, incredulous as he stared at these soldiers who had served him als not long ago.
An intense chill surged from his feet to the top of his head.
Sothing’s wrong! This was definitely not an internal Italian handling!
The Italians wouldn’t execute him in such a manner akin to escorting an extrely dangerous felon! What were they afraid he’d shout out? What were they afraid he’d expose?
“Mm-mm-mm! Mm-mm—!”
Gilbert twisted his body violently like a fish out of water, making desperate muffled screams, trying to spit out the sock in his mouth, only to be t with stronger suppression and soldiers’ fists, he was forcibly dragged up from the ground, stumbling and escorted out.
As he passed the door, he saw Colonel Rossi.
Rossi stood in the shadow of the corridor, expression pale, eyes complex as he gazed at him.
In that gaze was anger, resentnt, even a hint of what Gilbert thought he was imagining… compassion?
But none showed intentions to stop.
“Mm! Mm—!” Gilbert struggled with all his might toward Rossi, trying to question him with his eyes.
But Rossi rely avoided his gaze and waved his hand irritably, as if shooing away an annoying fly.
“Hurry up! The xicans are waiting!” Rossi’s voice said irritably.
xicans!
The word struck Gilbert’s mind like a bolt of lightning, shattering all his luck and illusions.
So that’s it! So that’s it!
That brief “treatnt” was just numbing! It was delaying! It was waiting for the recipient! They sold him out after all! Sold to those who most wanted him and those least likely to give him a way out!
Damn you!
Dog-like Italians!!
“Mm-mm-mm!!!” Gilbert’s struggle instantly turned into a wail, he fought hard but the soldiers’ power was overwhelming, his resistance was futile, only bringing on more brutal dragging and suppression.
He was half-dragged and half-carried out of the stronghold and stuffed into a windowless, blacked-out armored personnel carrier.
The car door slamd shut with a “clang,” cutting off the chaotic battlefield outside and all light.
Inside the vehicle was only dim red lighting, and the vigilant eyes of the escorting soldiers.
The engine roared, and the vehicle began bumping forward.
Gilbert felt despair, he damn well shouldn’t have trusted the Italians!
The airport!
They were going to put him on a plane! Directly shipped away!
Inside the vehicle was silent, only the noise of the engine and his own heavy, fearful breathing. Sweat soaked his clothes, sticky and cold.
He couldn’t think of any negotiation strategies, his mind only held Victor’s sinister face, and the notorious horrendous torture devices waiting for him in the xican Black Prison.
Should he just commit suicide now?
It’s over, completely over. Falling into the hands of the xicans, there wouldn’t be a shred of luck. The Italians’ “favor” was rely a last false full al before execution.
The armored vehicle roughly surged over the final stretch of dirt road, tires crunching stones with piercing sounds, suddenly ca to a halt, the back door being pulled open with a “whoosh,” and blinding searchlights instantly shone in, making Gilbert instinctively shut his eyes.
“¡Sáquenlo! (Get him out!)”
Several large hands clad in black gloves reached in, unrcifully grabbed Gilbert’s bound arms and collar, dragging him out of the armored vehicle like a dead dog.
User Comments
0 comments from readers