The Orthodox priests were not so pampered. It seemed that there was a component of asceticism in various religions. The proportion in Orthodox priests was relatively large, so it was not difficult for an elderly man in his seventies to walk with Buck. He just had no habitual staff and staggered.

At the same time, the burned area on Buck's foot also broke out and limped.

Even if the Tatars were beaten up, the old and the young were really embarrassed.

But both of them had an indescribable ease on their faces. Buck felt that the matter was finally finished. As long as they could leave this country smoothly, everything would be fine. So there was a faint smile on his face and he looked around with vigilance. The more he traveled a hundred miles, the closer he was to the final stage, the more careful he had to fall. Didn’t he fall in the moment when he was greeted by the helicopter last time?

Lord Gusef smiled inexplicably, more casual than usual, and asked Buck even more questions and answered: "How do you tell me how I know Smolov on the wall?" The old man's hand swept in the air: "Didn't you see that pile of bricks? That was his duty to protect. When Stalin ordered the expel of these Tatars, their mosques were demolished. After Smolov came back, he wanted to rebuild but was blocked by the government. So far, they could not rebuild the mosque. He guarded the pile of bricks from eleven years ago and did not leave for a single step. They were the bricks they found. As long as the mosque could be rebuilt in the future, they must use these bricks... In Crimea, it has become a holy trace, and he is the guardian and has the most supreme glorious status."

Buck opened his mouth wide, and he thought he was a beggar, so he took the initiative to serve people food!

But it was a bit ridiculous. A bunch of broken bricks was given some historical significance or religious cloak, and it became a sacred trace. It was a bit ironic to use this word. However, this person could stay there for eleven years without any obstacles. There was no doubt about Smolov's tenacity and religious piety. No wonder those religious people were so obedient.

There is another street that leaves the town, and there is no movement from foreigners. Even the dock is empty and quiet. This is a starting point for the Tatars to cross the narrow strait and enter the Russian hinterland to plunder the population hundreds of years ago. In the last century, it became an important Soviet military product transportation distribution center. Now it is obvious that the Russians in the town are all excluded. Perhaps with the acquiescence of the Ukrainian government, hundreds of kilometers away from the Black Sea Fleet base in the west, the Ukrainians may want to cut off the ties between Russians and Russia in this way, but now they have created such a radical religious element. It seems that even if Crimea can return to Russia, it will become a thorn in the flesh that disgusted Russia.

Buck carefully held the old priest against the wall. The Tatars seemed to be not chasing him. Now what he could not trust was the group of people who commander the Golden Eagle, so they should not become other people's political sacrifices.

The old priest shook his head and disagreed with this view.

Just as he was about to speak, there was a chaotic sound of footsteps behind him, and with the sound of metal friction, Buck quickly pushed Lord Gusef to the corner of the wall, hidden under the gap between the two Russian-style facade buildings, standing in front of the old man, and moving his body to the stigma as much as possible, and silently pulling out his pistol with his right hand.

But their figures were already seen, and the Ukrainian language behind them was unceremonious: "Stop! Raise your hands and put down your weapons!"

Buck didn't move, adjusting his body angle, almost hidden behind the pillar, leaving only a few eyeballs to see from the corner gap in the brick crack, and seven or eight figures gradually became clear from the street lights and the dim house lights. Buck clearly saw the AK rifle in the other party's hand, and a short sniper rifle with a scope shaking, and breathed a sigh of relief: "This is Patriarch Gusef of Isaiya Cathedral of Kharkov! He came for the purpose of peace, and no one could detain him! Who are you..."

In a word, the other party's footsteps did not stop at all, fifty meters turned into twenty meters...

Buck's heart was a little bright, and behind them there were two people holding a single-handled submachine gun in their hands. Whether it was a Polish PM submachine gun or a Russian SR submachine gun, plus a short sniper rifle, it was almost the standard equipment of the internal affairs troops on this large Eastern European territory. Given that the former Golden Eagle Commander was carrying pro-Russian militants outside the town, it is easy to imagine who the people chasing out of the town.

Maybe the shot Smolov shot was the one they shot, and the puffed gunshot should be the result of such a short sniper step with a silencer.

Only Ukraine is eager to provoke the Tatars to disgust the Russians at this time. If the Russians really suppress the Tatars at this critical moment, they might give NATO an excuse to intervene. Only they... may arouse the Ukrainians' anger at this area regardless of the safety of the Patriarch's place...

Buck never mind thinking more sinister. The despicable human beings in this world are the most unrestrained and he, so as the other party ran and approached unscrupulously, Buck glanced at the Patriarch with a calm expression, took out a magazine from his waist and stuck it in the tiger's mouth with his left hand. He suddenly stepped a step and stomped a half-male stance. He held the pistol tightly with both hands without any warning at all, and quickly pulled the trigger!

Browning's powerful pistol was actually not something that Buck used to use before. Unlike most of his companions, Buck, who is agile, has always liked European guns. The P226 is the one he is most familiar with, but just like the guns used by the internal affairs forces in front of him will reveal their source. After transforming from a mercenary to a Chinese agent, Buck also tried to convert the guns continuously. The P226 is easily reminiscent of the US Navy, and Browning's pistol is the most nationally equipped firearm in Europe, and it is difficult to find the root cause.

The most important thing is that this type of pistol has 13 rounds, which can provide strong continuous firepower, which is much better than many American pistols with 7 to 9 rounds.

Bang bang! Bang bang! Bang bang!

The continuous double shots, the body and nervous system, which were still calm and impermanent a few dozen seconds ago, suddenly burst out, just like these bullets that rushed out of the muzzle, the dopamine and neurons in the brain were working wildly, and the eyes quickly captured the figure in front of them who had fallen randomly since the gunshots, and persevered in firing at the people holding submachine guns and rifles!

You have to beat you even if you fall to the ground!

It is to take advantage of the moment when the opponent unexpectedly dared to attack without any spear, and quickly hit and shoot as hard as possible to kill!

And it is never wasted. Each figure quickly fires two shots according to memory. It is the next target. It completely uses the body's muscle memory. The conditioned reflex formed by countless times of pulling guns is not too late to aim at the target at three points and one line. Hold your hands tightly and forcefully to control the upward jump of the muzzle, ensuring that every bullet is delivered to the other party's body as much as possible!

No matter what part!

The bullets in the 13 rounds of magazines, plus one of the ones that Buck had filled in the gun chamber, were almost empty in an instant. With a click, the gun was hung behind. His right foot suddenly kicked his whole body on the ground and hid back to the post. At the same time, he pressed the magazine buckle with his right thumb, and dropped the empty magazine!

Before the magazine with the tiger's mouth in his left hand could be turned and stuffed in, the storm-like gunfire outside splashed the bullet on the stigma and the wall next to it!

The gravel, brick chips, and even the broken shrapnel were reflected in all directions. Buck filled the magazine and immediately buried his head, stretched out his hands to support the old man's armpits. The surprisingly old priest was not weak, and stood up with him and moved into the inside. Buck pushed him anxiously, and the old man staggered a few steps to hide behind the house and turned around the corner.

Most people were already scared and trembled all over at this time and could not move at all!
Chapter completed!