Chapter 916 Dandan’s Sorrow
“Wake up!” Mark Ocha was forcefully woken up from his coma by scraping his big ears several times in a row.
He opened his eyes drowsily and found himself in a basement, with his hands and feet tied to a chair with wires.
"Hey! Look at me! Look at me! You have to concentrate!" Brian slapped him a few more times, and the guy's face immediately swelled up visibly.
Then Brian held a steel nail as long as a knitting needle and pierced Mark Ocha's thigh into his horrified eyes.
"Ah!!!"
Amidst the shrill wailing, Mark Ocha's whole body trembled violently, and he was in pain.
"You'd better go and watch outside." Seeing his son's expression of unbearable expression, Frank tilted his head toward the outside, indicating that Cassel could go out first.
But the great writer shook his head stubbornly, "I'm fine, isn't Jack here?"
"Do you have any misunderstanding about our FBI?" Jack said to this guy He bared his teeth slightly.
After driving Cassel out of the basement, he continued to watch the CIA's interrogation program. At this time, Brian had already clamped the two electric pliers connected to the car battery on the long steel nails.
This Mark Ocha was quite tough. After a while of groaning, he actually stopped shouting and just stared at Brian with eyes filled with hatred.
Brian took out the photos of the two girls and put them up in front of him, "Where are these two girls?"
"Bah!" Mark Ocha spat in Brian's face superior.
Brian didn't dodge or evade, he just took out his handkerchief and wiped it, walked to the power box with a grin, reached out and turned off the switch.
"Ah! Ah! Ah!!!" Along with Mark Ocha's scream, the smell of burnt protein instantly filled the entire basement.
That’s it? Jack felt that the effect of electrocution was even worse than pulling out fingernails and dripping hydrochloric acid.
As he expected, when Brian returned to Mark Ocha and planned to ask another question, he was greeted with another spit.
"The electrocution method of your CIA does not seem to be very scientific." Jack said coolly from the side.
Before Brian said anything, Frank, who was also watching the "fun", responded first, "What? Does the FBI have any more scientific methods?"
"I don't know if the FBI is there." Jack smiled, "But as a man and half a forensic doctor, I know that some special parts can bring unparalleled pain to people."
— —
“No, stop, you pervert, stop it, don’t do this to me, please, don’t do this to me!!!”
Feeling your balls Being tightly clamped by two small clamps, Mark Ocha, who had been willing to die just now, began to tremble violently all over his body. This time, it was not painful, but purely out of a fear that came from the depths of a man.
"Don't worry, normal people have two. If it gets burnt, let's switch sides." Jack wiped his hands with a wet paper towel in disgust, and without waiting for this guy to say anything else, he directly turned off the switch. .
"After Pavarotti passed away, I have never heard a tenor that can compete with him." When the switch was turned off again, Frank said with sincerity.
“Let’s not say that Pavarotti is only one of the three great tenors in the world. In fact, this voice should be closer to the throat sound of a castrato, right?” Jack also ignored Mark Oucha’s tragic voice He roared and started teasing heartlessly.
"They were resold by me. Volkov told me that I could do with them as I pleased, as long as no one found them. Virgins like that could be sold for a lot of money, so I I took them out as quickly as possible, I beg you, please stop torturing me."
Mark Ocha gasped hard, the wires that bound him were tight due to the life struggle just now. It was deeply embedded in the flesh, but the severe pain from the "sad place" far exceeded the pain from other parts of the body. Even though Jack had turned off the electric switch, his whole body was still twitching.
"Where did you sell them? To whom?" When this guy finally spoke, Brian grabbed him by the collar and asked sharply.
"St. Clair, Patricia St. Clair, Patricia St. Clair" Seeing that Mark Ocha's consciousness was blurred, Brian took out a syringe from the medicine box on the side. Plunged into his veins.
Under the stimulation of the drug, the somewhat exhausted myocardium once again exerted its remaining strength and worked hard to pump fresh blood into the arteries. Mark Ocha's eyes widened suddenly.
"Where should I find him? Tell me!" Brian continued to ask.
"Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!" Mark Ocha gasped for air. His long, stylishly combed hair was completely wet with sweat and returned to the curly hair common among Eastern European men.
"I don't know, I swear I really don't know."
He turned to look at Jack who had already put his hand on the switch, his eyes full of pleading, "I don't know. I don't know! Please You, no! I really don’t know! Please have mercy on me, kill me, just let me go!”
“Please, please!” >
Seeing him crying, Jack lowered his hand on the switch, "OK, I believe you."
"Huh" Mark Ocha relaxed a lot. One mouthful, and the whole head couldn't help but droop.
"I'll leave this to you." After getting the name, Brian couldn't wait to leave the basement. Frank touched his bald head and turned to leave, "I'm going to make a few calls too."
Jack was about to take out his wallet "Spotted Viper", but suddenly seemed to have thought of something, and asked abruptly, "Do you remember how many girls begged you like just now?"
"What?" Mark Ocha fiercely asked He raised his head and saw Jack's hand on the switch again.
"No!!! Ahhhhhh!!!"
——
It turns out that pain in the balls can really hurt to death. Jack thought of some anecdotes he had read on the Internet in his previous life, and never thought that he would be able to practice it himself in this life.
It is really troublesome to follow two old CIA guys. They have no idea of remediating the aftermath. They are really just like in the movie, planning to leave a mess and walk away.
Jack didn't know if there was an organization similar to scavengers in France. Even if there was one, he didn't know it. He could only continue the hard work of destroying corpses and eradicating traces.
Buried the body in the forest, burned the clothes and other things on fire, and when Jack and Cassel returned to Frank's safe house No. 2, the identity of Patricia St. Clair It has been initially identified.
After putting together the information collected by Frank and Brian through their respective relationships, Jack asked Justin to take a walk through the relevant criminal databases in France, and a figure similar to Epstein was clearly visible.
(End of this chapter)