Yan Qingyu is also old.
Although he is well-maintained, the roots of his hair on his temples are white, and the fine lines at the corners of his eyes also reveal his true age.
At this moment, Chen Zikun suddenly understood that when Yan Qingyu was burned to death in the car, it was just a plan for the cicada to escape.
He changed his identity and rushed to a new fighting position, which was the bridgehead of imperialism, Hong Kong.
Yan Qingyu obviously recognized Chen Zikun, and he said nonchalantly: "According to your ID card, you should be called Liu Fugui, but people in the world call you Uncle Kun.
Tian Kun, an old man from the mainland who is a member of the Qing Gang, then, what the hell do I How should I call you?"
Chen Zikun didn't answer.
He didn't know if there was any recording detection equipment in this room, so he just snorted coldly.
Yan Qingyu said: "It seems that you are not in a good mood.
I apologize on their behalf.
How can a senior person like you sit in the interrogation room?
Aaron, send Uncle Kun to my office."
Five minutes later, Chen Zikun was sitting in an office at the top of the police station.
There was a sign of Senior Superintendent hanging on the door.
Yan Qingyu asked someone to bring two cups of coffee over, and took out the best quality coffee from the moisturizing sand box.
Luzon Cigar came to invite Chen Zikun to smoke, and he lowered the blinds.
"Actually, I should call you brother-in-law."
Yan Qingyu said.
Chen Zikun still didn't say anything.
After all, twenty years have passed and things on the intelligence front are changing rapidly.
Who knows who Yan Qingyu is now, whether he is a lackey of MI5, an agent of the Taiwanese Kuomintang, or a member of his old profession. , the underground party’s special situation in Hong Kong.
Yan Qingyu smiled: "Don't worry, this is my office.
There are no bugs.
You can speak freely.
I heard that you ran away some time ago, but the plane crashed and fell into the South China Sea.
You were sad for a long time.
I didn't expect to be caught by you."
I escaped, right, where is my eldest sister?"
Chen Zikun said: "Your eldest sister is safe.
If you catch me, what are you going to do with me?"
Yan Qingyu said: "I didn't arrest you, it was Han Sen who arrested you.
Originally, the Political Department has been monitoring you and wants to find out your details.
You also know that Hong Kong is a capital of spies, and both the Kuomintang and the Communist Party have There are not even eight thousand agents but ten thousand.
Britain People and Americans also attach great importance to Far East intelligence collection.
The Political Department is not the police, it is a branch of the British MI5.
We will not arrest people casually and break the rules of the intelligence community.
But the conflict between Han Sen and you intensified, so I Had to take action."
Chen Zikun said: "You don't need to check.
I don't have any mission.
I just can't survive and am just running away."
Yan Qingyu said: "I know, but the procedures must be followed.
To be honest, it will not work for you to stay in Hong Kong and join the underworld.
Your reputation is too great and no one can cover it up.
By the way, in the past three years, The Gun Club and the 14th K will fight very hard, so you might as well give in and give me some face.
Besides, the leader of the 14th K is also an old friend of yours."
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"Oh, who is it?"
Chen Zikun was not surprised.
There were so many old acquaintances in Hong Kong, and he would bump into one every now and then.
Yan Qingyu was about to speak when suddenly the door of the office was pushed open, and two plainclothes police officers with big muscles and round waists walked in.
They had badges on their chests and tried to grab Chen Zikun without saying a word.
"You can't arrest my guest."
Yan Qingyu hurriedly stopped him in English, but the other party didn't buy it and produced a document, and Yan Qingyu had to give in.
Chen Zikun understood that the other party must be an agent of MI5, and it seemed that this time he was going to try the British interrogation methods.
He was taken to a strange interrogation room by the agents.
The interior was polyhedral.
The ceiling, walls, and floor were made of irregular geometric shapes, which made people lose their sense of balance and lose direction.
There were soft sponge cushions all around.
It can't hit anyone, so it must be used to prevent suicide.
The interior is painted with various bright colors, including large blocks of yellow and red, which makes people feel irritable.
A red light is on 24 hours a day, making it difficult to distinguish between day and night, unable to see the sun, and unable to calculate time.
High technology, Chen Zikun couldn't help but sigh, this is to destroy the psychological defense of prisoners.
However, the British have gone astray in torturing people.
There is no point in relying on high technology.
When it comes to torturing people, our party's method is the best.
Ming, be cruel, let your relatives and friends expose you, let your children and grandchildren draw a clear line with you, let the whole world despise you, let you lose all hope, despair, life is worse than death.
Looking back at the things the British did, it was child's play for Chen Zikun, a historical counter-revolutionary warlord who had experienced a denouncement meeting involving tens of thousands of people.
Anyway, Yan Qingyu was here, so he was not worried.
He ate what he should eat and drank what he should drink.
When he was full, he sat on the ground and practiced Qigong, just like a normal person.
He had been worried and exhausted for more than a year and could not rest so comfortably.
Pass.
Chen Zikun was arrested, and there was a commotion outside.
Hundreds of people from the Three Gun Club surrounded the Mong Kok Police Station, demanding that the police hand over people.
This gave Superintendent Gui Lao a headache, and Han Sen even more.
In a building in Kowloon, Xiao Lang, who was in a suit and leather tie, picked up the South China Morning Post on the executive desk and flipped through it.
Suddenly, a piece of news caught his eye.
"Following the conflagration between the Three Guns Club and local gangs, it is said that the leader of the Three Guns Club, Uncle Kun, was taken away by the Mong Kok Police Station for questioning.
He has been detained for 36 hours so far.
Hundreds of members of the Three Guns Club are at the police station.
Sit quietly in front of the door”
Xiao Lang's heart moved and he picked up the phone: "Susan, please call Mr.
Gong."
After a short time, Gong Zijun arrived.
Now he is a member of the board of directors of a listed company and is worth millions.
"Old Gong, look at this news, does it mean that Chen Zikun has arrived in Hong Kong?"
Xiao Lang pointed at the newspaper.
Gong Zijun read the newspaper and said: "It's very possible that not everyone can take the title of Three Guns Club.
I didn't expect him to come out too."
Xiao Lang picked up the phone: "Susan, prepare the car."
Nowadays, both Xiao Gong and Xiao Gong are well-known people in the upper class.
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It is very simple to do something.
They found out the address of the Three Guns Club after a phone call.
They drove there and handed over their business cards.
The president came down to greet him personally.
Sure enough, he is an old friend.
Meeting an old friend in a foreign land, everyone was so excited that they shed tears.
After greetings, they began to discuss how to rescue Chen Zikun.
"Hong Kong is a legal society.
You cannot be detained for 48 hours without evidence.
I will ask a specialized barrister to follow up on this matter."
Xiao Lang said.
Hong Kong's barristers who specialize in criminal cases were all invited by Xiao Lang to form an unprecedentedly powerful team of lawyers.
Several upper-class justices of the peace also signed up as "Liu Fugui" as guarantee, including Sir Wei Zhongying.
The pressure from the police was unprecedentedly strong.
"Fuck you, who is this Uncle Kun?"
Han Sen was also dumbfounded.
He didn't expect that the other party was so powerful.
He was no longer able to suppress him, just Detective Hua.
What surprised him was yet to come.
The 14th K. suddenly announced that it would stop targeting the Three Gun Clubs, and the underworld disputes came to an end.
It was said that this was the intention of the leader of the 14th K.
Unable to withstand the pressure, the police station could only tell the lawyers that "Liu Fugui" had been taken away by the Political Department for questioning and had nothing to do with them.
So the lawyers went to the police headquarters to ask for him again, but this time they hit a wall.
Although Hong Kong is a society governed by the rule of law, in the final analysis it is just a colony of the British.
When matters involving national security are involved, these barristers involved in criminal cases have no choice but to advise Xiao Lang not to get involved in the matter.
In the blink of an eye, Chen Zikun had been detained by i5 for a week.
The agents thought he had suffered a mental breakdown, and then the formal interrogation began.
Chen Zikun was taken to a normal interrogation room.
One wall was covered with mirrors.
As you can imagine, there were several pairs of eyes looking at him behind the mirrors.
A British man in his thirties interrogated Chen Zikun.
He sat across the table and read from the script.
"Name" "Liu Fugui."
"age" "Sixty-eight."
"native place" "Hong Kong, Yuen Long."
"Okay, Mr.
Chen, let's not go around in circles anymore.
The real Liu Fugui died last year.
You are assuming someone else's identity, and you have committed more than that.
Some time ago, you and others killed someone at Haole Nightclub in Mong Kok.
Fifteen Chinese men died , killing many people, and killing fifteen people with a gun on Jordan Road, killing and wounding many others.
You are guilty of first-degree murder, illegal possession of weapons and many other crimes.
If we are willing, we can sentence you to hanging, regardless of whether you are Chen Zikun Either Liu Fugui will die on the gallows."
"What's the point of scaring me?"
Chen Zikun dismissed it.
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These tricks were meaningless.
He knew the other party's intentions very well.
Gui Lao spoke good Cantonese, but his Mandarin was slightly poor.
He turned over the information in his hand and said: "According to our intelligence, you should be the former governor of Jiangdong Province, director of the Aviation Commission, and member of the Central Committee of the Kuomintang Revolutionary Committee, Chen Zikun.
Sir, you left China in July and your plane crashed in the South China Sea, but you did not die and came to Hong Kong.
Congratulations, Mr.
Chen, you succeeded."
Chen Zikun was noncommittal.
Gui Lao said: "We can pardon you, but in exchange, you have to tell us some things, such as the distribution of airports of the Chinese Air Force, pilot training conditions, and some political questions.
I hope you can answer them."
Chen Zikun said: "Well, I am Chen Zikun.
I retired in 1960 and no longer have the latest military intelligence.
Even if I did, I would not tell you that I left the mainland for personal reasons, not treason.
I hope you understand."
"Are you sure?"
Gui Lao was surprised.
A person who had lived in a special house for a week was so determined.
This was the first time in the history of i5.
What shocked him was yet to come.
Chen Zikun suddenly picked up the iron-legged chair under his buttocks and smashed it against the mirror on the wall.
Once, twice, the mirror cracked and shattered, revealing the camera and several faces behind it.
"It's you."
Chen Zikun stopped and looked at the old man in front of him in surprise.
There were many acquaintances, and this one was no exception.
The high-ranking official in the suit in front of him was none other than John Walker, the British consul stationed in Jiangdong.
"Marshuai Chen, we meet again."
Mr.
Walker waved the armed agents who came to leave and greeted Chen Zikun kindly
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