Chapter 653 Spy over Russia

After Fiofan opened the small door with an oil lamp, the musty smell made him frown.

He hates this small monastery and this moldy room. As the repentant priest of the original tsar's royal family, he was originally high in power and could even affect the country, but now he has to hide in the province like a mouse. If it hadn't been for the quiet shelter of his cousin who was the captain of the Tsar Guard, maybe he would now He is already in a different place.

And all this was done by the Raspuson, who claimed to be a god, because he was afraid that he would expose his deceptive tricks, and the bitch who cheated with him and introduced him to Germany, Virubova!

"Are you back?"

As soon as Fiofan entered the room, a tired voice sounded. A pale face under the light because he had not seen the sun for a long time appeared in the light and shadow. Seeing this face, he used to clenched his fists.

"Don't be angry, God says he will forgive those who repent!" Vostorgov turned on the oil lamp, tidied up the priest's robe in front of the mirror, and then went to the head of the bed and began to play with his polished little pistol.

"Do you think you can kill Rasputin with it? Maybe you can't get close to its body!" Fiofan laughed at his companion. He didn't like this guy, because it was this bastard who brought Rasputin back to St. Petersburg from Siberia, and then gave him the opportunity to live in the upper class, and finally hooked up with the queen's close friend Virubova with the dirty guy of **, who became his own today.

Feofan was angry. In fact, he didn't understand why he came with this guy. If he wanted to talk about the most hated people in the world, except for Rasputin and Virubova, this guy could rank third.

"I know you hate me. In fact, I also hate myself, but hatred binds us together." Vostolgov raised his hand, waved his pistol and said, "But maybe one day, you will be grateful to me, because I will kill that bastard with my own hands!"

"It's up to you?" Fiofan curled his lips. If it hadn't been for the guy's gun, he might have smashed it with a fist.

"Yes, I will do it! And it will be very fast.

"I don't need you!"

When Vostorgov gritted his teeth, a voice suddenly sounded from outside the door. The two were shocked. Just as they were about to get up, they saw a man in a Tsarist guard uniform coming in.

Before Voorgove could see it clearly, the big man took his pistol, withdrew the yellow and orange bullet inside, and smiled, "We can't use it, because Raspson was killed just now!"

"What!" Fiofan suddenly stood up, grabbed his cousin's arm, shook and shouted, "Berek, what are you talking about?"

"My dear cousin, Rasputin died. Just three hours ago, at the gate of Grand Duke Dmitry's palace, he was shot in the head by MP Plishkevic!"

"It's impossible, it's impossible! Unless I see the body, no one will lie to me!" The news brought by Belek made Father Vostorgov into madness and shook his head shoutingly, but before he could continue to shout, his voice was interrupted by several men who walked into the room again.

"He didn't lie to you!"

Several men in black who suddenly broke in shocked the three people. Berek subconsciously wanted to take out the gun, but the latter was faster than him. The black muzzle of the gun held his head like lightning, and then pulled away the gun in his waist and hand.

The muzzle of the gun suddenly made the air in the small room stagnate. Father Fiofan gasped hard, looked nervously at the big men with Slavic faces under the oil lamp, and asked, "Who are you? What do you want to do!"

The leader swept several people coldly with razor-like eyes, and finally stopped on the priest Vostorgov. With a raise of his hand, the partner behind him immediately took out a small bag and poured the contents on the table.

In the crisp sound, only hundreds of golden gold coins were suddenly piled up like hills. Father Vostorgov looked at the golden light greedily and completely forgot that he was in danger. Even the two people around him held their breath.

"Reverend Vostorgov, I heard that Rasputin was you who persuaded him to come to St. Petersburg, and." The man pulled out a dagger, turned the tip of the knife and smiled, "You also taught his hypnosis!"

"You, how do you know!" Vostorgov's eyes suddenly widened. Everyone knew Rasputin, but the matter of teaching hypnosis was extremely secretive. Only he and Rasputin knew it, so he suddenly looked panicked after being broken.

Feofan and Berek looked at Vostorgov in disbelief when they heard this sentence. You know, Rasputin's most powerful thing is that in addition to the mysterious prophecy, that hypnosis is also his biggest tool for his pride and money for fun!

"Reverend Vostorgov, you have two choices now. The first is that we will give you to the Tsar, and then he will personally interrogate you about the story of Rasputin, and the other is to persuade these two." The man swept the three people coldly and suddenly put the knife on the table: "Open the door of the palace!"

A brilliant gold coin was shocked to the ground and rolled to the feet of Vostorgov. Looking at Vostorgov, who was greedily staring at the gold coins, the man said, "After that, each of you will get a ton of gold!"

"One ton!"

Vostorgov swallowed his saliva and bent down to pick up the gold coin. He brought Rasputin to St. Petersburg for this thing, didn't he? Now the opportunity is at hand, but the risks are.

"This is impossible!" Belek refused.

"Maybe the captain of the guard doesn't know our means yet." After the man's fingers scratched the blade, he suddenly took out something from his pocket and handed it to Berek: "Jill, help Mr. Berek find a dress, and then take him around the crowded place."

The thing in the man's hand suddenly changed Berek's face. Although he was only a small captain, he still knew the sign of the Bolshevik rebel party. If he shook around with this thing, he would fall to the ground tomorrow morning.

Before he could shout out, the Bolshevik badge was pinned to his chest, and then the flash suddenly lit up.

Don't grab your hands and feet to take photos. The face of Berek is as gray. These demons are still carrying cameras! God, you will never want to clear your name!

"Reverend Fiofan, do you need one?"

"No, no!" Fiofan waved his hand in horror and hid in the corner.

"How do you know that I teach hypnosis?!" Vostorgov has broken a broken jar, and now he has only one last question.

The man smiled and waved again. Then all three of them saw two marijuana bags being moved in from outside the door. When the bag was untied, they found that it was suddenly gagged and bound by Verubova and her husband.

The man gently pulled up Virubova, and the woman in a white nightdress stared in horror. Although she curled up, the delicate face under her long golden hair was still enough to fascinate any man.

"Wrap!"

Suddenly, the man pulled out the whole nightgown with a fierce pull of Ravirubova's skirt. The huge breasts were suddenly exposed to the cold night and suddenly stood up.

"Reverend Vostorgov, I know you hate her." The man's fingertips gently crossed the tip of his breasts. After a shudder, he pushed the woman in front of Vostorgov and said with a smile, "She's yours. You can do whatever you want!"

"Dispose of it at will!"

Looking at the white breasts, Vostorgov tried hard along the saliva. This woman was a close friend of the queen and a glass of intoxicating liquor in the upper Russian social circle. Countless men thought of riding her under her body and moaning gently.

Now, she is in front of her, as long as she reaches out her hand, she can touch it, and there is no obstacle!

"In the next few days, you will stay here and wait for our notice." The man put away the dagger, looked at the two people next to him and said with a smile, "You can enjoy it, but."

The man's footsteps stopped beside Virubova's husband and smiled, "No matter what you do, he must be watching!"

"Demon, you demon!" Father Feovan shouted wildly. The man was so terrible that he deliberately left Verubova's husband to watch, because Virubova was the queen's close friend. Once they repented, what happened tonight would spread to the queen and the emperor, so that they would all die.

"Thank you." The man smiled and took the door. After a moment of silence, there was a woman's scream in the room, followed by a heavy gasp.

again and again.

Outside the door, Wen Xiu threw a cigarette to Shen Jun: "Why don't you go in by yourself?"

"My face is in. Do you think they will really cooperate?"

Wen Xiu smiled. No wonder this guy is called a black hand. He is not only cruel, but also accurate! The impersonation of the Bolsheviks is because many Russians now know that they are plotting power. In the underground with no choice, the three people can only seek a glimmer of life by sheltering them, but if the yellow race goes in, it is likely to have the opposite effect.

Looking up at the brighter and brighter Oriental stars, Wen Xiu can imagine that in a few hours, Lenin will lead the Bolsheviks to launch a vast revolutionary movement.

The Tsar will definitely choose to suppress, but when the bourgeoisie, as a supporter, is afraid of being charged with killing Rasputin, under the leadership of Prince Supolev and others, his greatest help has actually been stripped away, and St. Petersburg will fall into unprecedented chaos.

However, when the Bolshevik rebels are ready to attack the palace with hope, they will find that the palace gate has been quietly opened. A teacher of the King of Qin, who no one knows how to appear, will take away the Tsar's family and the wealth accumulated over 300 years under their eyes.

What will Russia look like then?

Wen Xiu was full of expectation, and Shen Jun suddenly narrowed his eyes: "Wen Xiu, your night eagles are usually very hard. Why don't I take you around? The Russian ladies taste very good.

"Fuck you!"

"Haha."

In the wild laughter of the chapel, countless horses began to rush out of the barracks in St. Petersburg. The military police ran under the harsh whistle. Gunshots, screams and screams sounded from every corner, breaking the peace before dawn, and countless Russians will begin to taste the pain of insomnia from this night.

(to be continued)