Chapter 153 George, who raised an army to accuse him (fourth update!!)

"Ah, ah, ah!"

"Shut up."

"inventory."

Hawke, who was sitting in a wheelchair, raised his right foot and looked at Nora who put a plaster on himself by hand. The corners of his mouth twitched and he said, "This is a leg, not a piece of wood."

Nora rolled her eyes at Hawke: "When you got up yesterday, weren't you very handsome in that busty dress? Why didn't you think of it at the time? Where can I find plaster for you now? Just tie it with a board and paint it with latex paint.

Already."

Hawke was speechless.

Paint latex paint on board?

What do you think?

Do you really think that George's nose is so broken that he can't even detect the smell of latex paint?

Half an hour later.

Nora clapped her hands, looked at the plaster that was torn and re-glued with yesterday's Hawke's clothes, and said with admiration: "Not bad, very good."

Hawke looked at the various gaudy stickers on the outside of the cast on his right leg and was silent for a moment: "Is it close to the hospital here?"

If it doesn't work out, Hawke is considering whether to break his right leg again and go to the hospital to get a cast again.

My leg is broken, and it only hurts for a while.

But losing face will last a lifetime.

Nora gave Hawke a roll of his eyes again, turned around, and walked into the room. When she came out, she had already brought a coat over and tied Hawke's right leg with a plaster:

"I know you want to save face, so I can do it now."

Hawke nodded.

Nora rolled her eyes at Hawk again charmingly.

Just then.

An Indian male ran over from a distance. He first glanced at Hawke, who was picked up by Nora two hours ago, and then pointed to Nora outside the reservation: "Nora, here comes a New Yorker.

The city police detective said he wanted to see Hawke."

Nora raised her eyebrows and looked at Nora: “It’s really here.”

Hawke shrugged.

If George doesn't come, he won't be George.

This is also the reason why Hawke ran all the way back after finishing his work, so that he could be here to heal when George came to find him.

but……

Two hours?

It seemed a little late. Hawke originally thought that when George ran over, he didn't even put the plaster on again. If this was the case, then Hawke could only say sorry and let George run for nothing.

Trip.

at the moment?

Hawke looked down at himself and asked Nora next to him, who had just returned from an order in the morning: "Does it smell like blood?"

Nora shook her head.

"That's good."

Hawke breathed a sigh of relief and said to Nora: "Let's go, push me out. If I don't get out, I'm afraid he won't go back."

George must have many questions to ask him face to face.

Hawke had already guessed, and even knew what questions George would ask him.

after all……

This time, not to mention how many S.H.I.E.L.D. agents died in his hands, just saying that three blocks have turned into battlefields, just like the ruins of a battlefield, the economic losses alone are probably in the billions.

.

Not to mention subsequent pensions and so on.

However, not many New York Police Department officers died here, and even if they did, it has nothing to do with me.

Hawke thought so in his mind.

soon.

With the help of Nora, Hawke, who was pushed to the reservation cordon in a wheelchair in a wheelchair, saw George standing outside the cordon, staring at him with a pair of angry eyes.

You bastard, you're still pretending!

The smell of blood on your body almost scares away the birds in the nearby woods.

The moment George saw Hawke, he smelled the strong smell of blood sweeping over Hawke from ten meters away.

besides……

It was also transmitted from the Indian woman next to Hawke, but it was not as strong as the bloody smell from Hawke's body.

George frowned.

Is this Indian woman also a killer?

Right.

This is why Hawke must come here.

George's thoughts were racing.

Hawke looked at the flashing expression on George's face and smiled: "Good morning, George, you are here to visit..."

The words have not yet been spoken.

George interrupted directly and looked at Hawke: "I want to talk to you!"

He wanted to ask carefully why Hawke did what he did to Coulson. Even if Coulson was an enemy and could be killed directly, why did he have to be made to look like that?

Killing is not terrible, what is terrible is cruelty!

Hawke pursed his lips and nodded: "Of course."

Nora behind her was preparing to push Hawke's wheelchair.

The next second.

George glanced at Nora and looked at Hawke in a deep voice: "Alone!"

Hawke raised his eyebrows.

Nora frowned directly and said: “No!”

George laughed and took out his gun from his waist with a snap.

Nora raised her eyebrows, pulled out her pistol with her right hand, and pulled the trigger directly.

"Bang!"

The bullets erupted, and at the critical moment, Hawke raised his right hand and directly moved the muzzle of Nora's gun to the side. The bullet almost grazed George's scalp and hit the concrete floor with a hiss.

Hawke couldn't help but breathed a sigh of relief.

Still the same sentence.

George can die, but before he is completely angered, just don't die in his hands or in front of him, and don't make him feel any guilt.

As soon as the gunfire rang out, a large number of tribesmen armed with various automatic rifles rushed out and stood behind Nora, demonstrating the fierce folk customs of the reservation.

George didn't seem to be frightened at all by the shot just now. Looking at Hawke, he directly took off the gun in his hand and the holster on his own body, threw it aside, and looked at Nora who had just fired.

: "I don't bring weapons, that's enough!"

Nora had no expression on her face. A foreign police detective came to their reservation and waved a weapon. Even if he was killed, there would be no pressure on Nora.

But Hawke had already moved, patted Nora's arm, signaled, then turned the wheelchair and moved towards the outside of the cordon and said with a smile: "George, you know me, I never worry that you will

Bad for me, because, you're a good man, George!"

It's a pity that these days, it's all good people who suffer.

Nora looked at Hawke, who was turning his wheelchair and walking towards the woods next to him with George. He looked away, looked at the tribesmen who ran out, clapped his hands and said, "It's okay, everyone, go back."

When the tribesmen who rushed out heard this, they said nothing, put away their weapons, and turned around to leave.

In the woods.

Holding the armrest of the wheelchair with one hand, he changed into a comfortable sitting position, tilted his head, looked at George standing in front of him, with his back to him, his head lowered, and blinked.

This is……

Are there any emotions brewing?
To be continued...