Chekhov

  After chatting with Purov for a while, Yichun apologized and said: "Mr. Purov, I'm afraid I have to return to London first, something has come up at home."

  At this time, one of Purofu's assistants also walked over and handed a deciphered telegram to Purofu. Purofu took the telegram, quickly scanned it, furrowed his brow slightly, and said in a low voice: "But if you go back now, I'm afraid it won't be easy to get out of this afterwards? The British aren't pushovers either."

  "I think it's not a big deal, Chekhov and his gang are just causing trouble and can't help much. I think Mr. Plov's subordinates are enough to handle the British banking system with ease. I believe that my returning now is a better cover for us. Mr. Fattardi has been in contact with me several times in London, the British won't be unaware of this. This time, when we were ambushed in Britain, we suddenly all left Britain, if it's said to be watching the Olympics, it's still a reason, but now..."

  Purov nodded slightly: "Yes, I neglected a problem. Now that the Olympics are over, even if we stay in China, the British will suspect us without evidence. Hmm, Mr. Yi returns to London immediately and focuses on dealing with Mr. Chikov's affairs. It's best to drag down certain departments of the UK so that they have no power to trouble other action personnel, can't it?"

  Yi Chen smiled: "Stirring up trouble behind the scenes is my specialty, don't worry about it, I'll take care of everything, anyway, I won't let the British suspect me and this financial turmoil are related."

  "Fatadio, get Mr. Yi and his party tickets on the fastest flight back to London."

  Yi Chen and his party boarded the plane eleven hours later, simply because the city where they were conducting economic and trade inspections did not have an airport. By the time they rushed to a nearby big city, a flight to London had already taken off, so they could only wait for the next one.

  Fatadi, who sent them to the plane, said helplessly: "China is not Mongolia. Those bastards in Mongolia, as long as you wave your hands on the runway and let the pilots see it, the plane will come back and let you board again. What a lovely bunch of bastards."

  He rolled his eyes and said, "Can things get any worse?"

  In the waiting room, Yichun asked Fatao with great interest: "Dear, Mr. Purov's name is really interesting, Alexander Purov, that's his full name?"

  Fatadi shrugged his shoulders: "And there's another surname, Strelvsky. The boss likes to be called Alya in front of close people, and when discussing serious matters, he is usually called Mr. Plov. Ahah, when being attacked by political enemies at home, he is generally called Strelvsky, that's how it is, our Russian names are suitable for every occasion."

  Yi Chen was scornful of the Russians' crudeness in his heart: "Can't you use changes in tone to express your feelings towards someone? Do you have to rely on names, it's truly a barbaric tribe." These past two days, Zi Chen stole some time to flip through several world history books, and there weren't any good descriptions of the Russians.

  When Yi Chen and others rushed back to London, it was already time for government officials to get off work. He instructed his subordinates who came to pick him up to send the luggage back first, and also instructed them to be careful not to damage the local handicrafts given by the city governments along the way, which were all valuable goods that could not be damaged.

  Yi Chen then ordered Phil to drive and head straight for Scotland Yard.

  Gently embracing Fei Li, Yi Chen asked her with some concern: "How are you? Is your body uncomfortable at all? Being cooped up on the plane for so long, why don't we head back and rest first?" Fei Li smiled, wrapped herself around his arm, and shook her head repeatedly while batting her eyelashes.

  "Hey, Wiggins old chap, I'm back in London. Ahah, don't ask me any rubbish about where I've been or what I've done, do me a favour, I know the head of Scotland Yard is a regular at your stables... Don't ask me how I know, just give him a call and say I might need his help with something... Price? Alright, price is no problem, how big an appetite does he have? OK, that's settled then, I owe you one for this. Thanks, dear old Wiggins."

  Yi Chen casually threw his phone onto the sofa across from him. Jester hastily asked, "Boss, is something wrong?"

  Yi Chen said somewhat irritably, "Jester, who did Chekhov and the others provoke? The Vigins didn't even get wind of it, and they actually asked me what I wanted with that guy... Strange, who took Chekhov away?"

  Jester waved his hand and released a dragon-slaying dagger, dancing out more than a dozen black light shadows. He said viciously: "Even if I'm caught by the army, I have confidence to get them out." Having obtained two proud treasures from the founding ancestor of the Tianxing Sect, Jester's confidence greatly increased. He had secretly tried the power of these two daggers and almost got himself killed by the counter-shock force after sending his own firepower in.

  "Whatever department has taken Chekhov, they'd better let him go quietly or else I'll make sure to dig up some dirt on them. Jester, get Kain on the phone... No, never mind, we'll deal with it when we get back. Weird that Kain didn't come to pick us up..."

  Fiona opened one eye and smiled: "Kain must be gathering his men to go after the robbers."

  Yi Chen raised an eyebrow: "This is also good, this is also good. Being prepared will save us from scrambling around in case we need to take action."

  "Boss, we're here."

  Yi Chen smiled: "The last time we found that police officer Karl, he was in charge of special operations, so let's find him."

  The police officer in the hall stopped Yichun: "Sir, who are you looking for?"

  Jester leaned in, using his height advantage to look down and say, "We're looking for Officer Karl." Jester muttered to himself, "Damn it, Karl? Sounds like a dog's name." From this point on, Jester and Yichen seemed to have a deep understanding.

  The officer looked at him with a strange dress, red short hair, frowned, held the document in his arms, and asked slowly: "What do you want to see Officer Karl for? He's a busy man, he won't see you easily."

  Yi Chen walked slowly past, his eyes fixed tightly on the police officer, shining with a cold glint: "I'm looking for Officer Karl, the one in charge of special investigations. Tell me where his office is, or I'll beat you up, and he should come out too." Yi Chen's hand grasped the desk lamp tightly, and with a loud creaking sound, the thick brass rod was twisted into a bend by Yi Chen's single hand.

  At the top of the stairs at the end of the hall, Karl's voice rang out: "Mr. Yi? Why make it difficult for them? Are you looking for me? Please come up."

  Yi Chen opened the desk lamp, took a fierce look at the little police officer, and walked straight to the stairs where Carl was. Jester and Feli didn't even glance at the police officer, following Yi Chen as he left.

  Phil, who was somewhat civic-minded, dropped two hundred pounds and said: "Compensation for the lamppost and fines should be enough, shouldn't it? Officer, if you have no objection, I'll be off." He gave a nasty glance at the policeman's neck and followed him with big strides.

  The startled policeman gritted his teeth and muttered in a low voice: "Damn it, where did this bunch of bastards come from? If I get the chance, I..."

  Two detectives who had just returned from patrol duty and were signing the shift register whispered: "Kid, you don't stand a chance against him. He's a big shot in London's underworld. You're playing with fire... Be careful not to get shot at night. We don't want to offend someone like that. We only handle small cases, they're not people we can afford to mess with. Keep your eyes open from now on... God, how much strength do you need to bend this thing?"

  Karl led the way, leading Yi Chen and others into his not-so-large office, opening the blinds to let in some air, then quickly moving two thick stacks of files from the two chairs, wiping off the dust on top with his hand, saying a bit apologetically: "Ah, sorry, I rarely pay attention to the cleanliness of my office, so please sit down."

  "Scott, bring me five cups of coffee, and hurry up!" Carl yelled out towards the door.

  Yi Chen gestured for Fei Li to sit down, but she looked at the still dusty chair and pouted before leaning against Yi Chen. Jester spun the chair around a few times, enthusiastically examining the office and saying, "Ah ha, it's different from what I imagined. I thought the Chief of Police's office would be luxurious and elegantly decorated."

  Karl exaggeratedly stretched the corners of his mouth, shrugged his shoulders and sat down in his own seat, looking at his messy office and the piles of files on his desk, scratching his head and saying: "Dear, it's all about funding, we're not the military intelligence agency, where would we get so much money to renovate the office? Anyway, it's us who work ourselves to death every day, and in the end, it's definitely us who will be unlucky."

  Yi Chen looked around the somewhat dim office and nodded: "Maybe I can sponsor some money to renovate this place, it's not very expensive, is it?"

  Karl's expression turned serious: "Mr. Yi, I think you're not a person who often donates generously, and from your profession, donating to the police department doesn't seem like your style either, huh?"

  "Of course, I've come for a reason, Mr. Carl... We've met before, so we can be considered acquaintances now. I need an acquaintance from Scotland to help me out, haha, you won't refuse, will you?" Yi Chen pulled out a white handkerchief and gently wiped his hand with it. On one corner of the handkerchief was an exquisite golden dragon embroidery, which was a souvenir given by the local government of Suzhou, a city in southern China, after they learned that Yi Chen was Chinese.

  Karl thought for a moment and smiled: "Mr. Yi, you're too polite, don't you know many people? I'm just a small police officer in a special investigation unit, you must know many big shots."

  Yi Chen said bluntly, "I don't want to waste time. I see the photos of you and your family on your desk. Honestly, you have a lovely and handsome son. I don't want to waste the time you spend having dinner with your family... Tell me, where is Chekhov being held? The Chekhov who was arrested for attacking the official website of the British government?"

  "Good Lord, the one who uploaded thousands of G worth of porn videos and pictures to those department servers is Chikov? Your subordinate? Oh God... I have no idea where he's being held."

  Yi Chen thought Karl was pushing something, his eyes widened, his body slightly leaned forward, a strong killing intent quickly enveloped Karl, Karl suddenly felt his pores exploding, and even his breathing became a bit difficult.

  "Mr. Caird, you understand what kind of person I am... Tell me about Chekhov and let me bail him out, and I'll consider donating five million pounds to Scotland Yard for the renovation of their office building. Of course, for you, I also have a small token of appreciation."

  Carl burst out laughing, forcing himself to say: "You're bribing a detective in the police station's office, sir... But... Oh God, I swear on my honor, no one at Scotland Yard knows anything about Mr. Chikov. I guarantee it, I haven't heard any rumors, and it wasn't our people who arrested him." Suddenly, Yi Chen's intense killing aura made Carl have no doubt that he could be killed by Yi Chen at any moment.

  Yi Chen suppressed his killing intent and said lightly, "Oh, sorry about that. Can you tell me where Mr. Wei Lun's office is? I have an old friend who asked me to bring him a few words."

  "Old Man Vynal? His office is in the innermost room on the top floor, but trust me, he doesn't know anything either, because all he knows is what we report to him, unless he's gotten something from some other channel... another channel?" Karl looked at Yichun and said: "I think I know where Mr. Chekhov is now... The ones who arrested him are from the Military Intelligence Bureau, not us Scotland Yard."

  Yi Chen was stunned for half a day: "Military Intelligence Bureau?"

  Karl looked at Yichun helplessly and said, "I'm afraid Mr. Chekhov will have to prepare himself for a prison sentence. Here, we might be able to make an exception for certain friends who are willing to cooperate and allow bail, but the Military Affairs Bureau is different - once you go in, no one ever comes out."

  Yi Chen nodded, saying to Carl: "Thank you, Mr. Carl, I will definitely return the favor in the future, thank you for your advice." However, I still want to try. Yi Chen waved his hand and led Feili and three others out, just as they bumped into Scott who was carrying five cups of coffee.

  "Look at Scott, pouting: 'Dear Mr. Scott, get me a cup of coffee, then you can consider taking care of the remaining four cups by yourself, your speed is too slow.'"

  Jie Si excitedly whispered to Yi Chen, "Boss, shall we have a big one? What's so special about the Military Intelligence Bureau? It's just a group of ordinary people. Can they really do anything to us?"

  "Shut up, let's talk about it when we get back... Think about it, is it worth confronting the British government for Chekhov? If Chekhov and his people have already spilled the beans, then let's prepare to leave Britain."

  Chekhov was sitting in a chair with a yellow long table two meters in front of him, four agents sat behind it with serious faces, three spotlights shone on Chekhov. Three walls surrounded him, the wall opposite Chekhov had a small iron door, and behind Chekhov was a mirror wall.

  A dozen or so men in crisp suits, looking very dignified, watched the footage of Chekhov's trial through a two-way mirror. One silver-haired old man with his hands behind his back said in a condescending tone: "We must get to the bottom of this. I have a hunch that he is connected to the recent turmoil in our financial market... Those idiots in the technical department, haven't they found anything yet?"

  A middle-aged man shook his head and said, "They're good at their techniques, they did a clean job, there's no trace left in the machine, but the hard drive is full of adult videos. However, with charges such as hacking into government websites and possessing child pornography, we can sentence them to life imprisonment. They also illegally possess large amounts of marijuana."

  The old man roared: "I don't care about the adult videos, I don't care about the marijuana. What do those things have to do with us? That's what the police are for. And we, are we just going to catch a few sex offenders, catch a few drug-addicted kids and that's it? Get his confession out... no matter what means, get his confession out... if all else fails, they can take the fall. The pressure from the council is huge, forcing us to find out who's attacking our market within half a month... they can be used at the last minute."

  Another middle-aged man said slyly, "Yes, head, relying on their instruments, we can determine their guilt in court. An ordinary hacking group doesn't need such advanced equipment, if there's no relevant information on the hard drive, we can fabricate some."

  The old man smiled and patted the oily middle-aged man's shoulder, praising him highly: "David, you are the most capable of all my subordinates... You guys." The old man changed his tone and said viciously: "You all learn from David, I don't want to be forced out before my retirement because we can't crack this case, got it?"

  Chekhov let out a languid yawn, slumping back in his chair, and gave the blonde female agent a sly wink, deliberately jiggling his lower body as he chuckled and said: "Ladies and gentlemen, what can I do for you? You've asked me that several times already, God, damn it, this pervert with an extramarital affair... Hahaha, I told you, I was just helping the British spread their sex education materials, I didn't commit any major crime..."

  An agent stood up, walked to Chekhov's side, grabbed his hair with one hand and lifted him up violently, roaring: "Are you the ones attacking Britain's banking system? You son of a bitch, this is our territory, I can beat you into a pulp and throw you into the sewer... No, trash like you shouldn't pollute London's sewers, you should be beaten to a pulp and then burned." A heavy fist hit Chekhov in the abdomen.

  Chekhov let out a blood-curdling scream and immediately rolled up his eyes, his body going limp like a dead dog.

  The four agents gasped, and the one who had struck Chikov hastily dropped his grip on Chikov's hair, letting him fall face down to the floor, rapidly explaining: "I, I didn't use much force, just an ordinary punch."

  The old man next door exclaimed: "What's going on here?"

  David's face changed, and he roared: "Those idiots, these Russians are taking marijuana, having sex, their bodies are almost collapsing, damn it, they actually used heavy hands to beat them? Don't change the interrogation mode yet? Use money, use women, use death threats, use some more gentle methods, a group of fools."

  The old man looked at David with approval and said: "David, you are still experienced. When I retire, I will recommend your promotion."

  David smiled, but no one saw it, and Chikov, who was lying on the ground, also showed a strange smile.

  It's been so long, the Military Intelligence Bureau can't even deal with Chekhov and his gang. What can you do when faced with a group of rascals like them? Use torture? They look like they'd fall over in the wind, and if you use a bit of force, they might just die; use special drugs? What if they're allergic, who knows, they might even kick the bucket... Headache, headache.

  "It seems that we have no choice but to fabricate evidence for them. Their high-end goods can already explain some problems, and with our manipulation inside, the closed trial and the video tape will also be manipulated, so we can deal with the meeting."

  The old man nodded repeatedly and said, "David, now you're in charge. I'm going home to rest. That damned old lady has made stew, my favorite potato beef stew. Oh God, it's already quitting time. David, take care of everything, got it?"

  David nodded repeatedly, and a group of people sent off the old man with four bodyguards.