"Now,
You leave here,
His target is me,
I'll think of a way to save Jack. "Bruce looked around at his surroundings.
They could see the main road after walking along the path they came from. It shouldn't be difficult to stop a car there.
"No,
He said that if I run away or don't follow his instructions,
Jack will … "
Bruce looked at Haley's expression, he couldn't help but feel annoyed.
He couldn't help but feel annoyed. "Up to you." He knew that Jack wouldn't die before Foyet achieved his goal.
There was no guarantee that Jack wouldn't be hurt,
But two hostages were more troublesome than one. He had already decided to kill Foyet as soon as he saw him, regardless of anything else.
Bruce held the gun in his hand, pushed open the door, and walked into the house. This looked like a very ordinary house.
The room was brightly lit and spotlessly clean. At a glance,
There was no one in the house.
The quiet atmosphere made people feel a little depressed. Bruce held the gun and observed the house vigilantly. At that moment, a phone rang. Haley, who was following behind Bruce, was obviously shocked,
Bruce heard her inhale. She quickly picked up the phone,
She heard someone say something and turned on the speaker of the phone.
"Our guest is here,
Long time no see,
Agent Jones. "Foyet's voice came from the other end of the phone.
"You lured me here. Were you going to talk to me over the phone?" Bruce saw the camera in the living room,
He understood where Foyet was watching the situation through this,
He took two steps closer and said to the camera.
"Of course not,
Do you know how much I've been looking forward to this meeting with you, Bruce? I can't wait. But before that, there are a few small procedures. "
Bruce frowned at his change of address. He immediately heard Foyet's next words, "First, take out your weapon and put it in that bag." There was a bag hanging on the frame of the camera.
Bruce's phone rang. He took it out and glanced at it. It was a call from Reid. He couldn't help but complain that Reid called at the right time.
"Yes, and your phone. Please turn it off and put it in the bag. I don't think you'll answer this call. "
"Why should I do as you say?" Bruce looked at the camera mockingly. Although it was not unacceptable to lose his weapon, he could still defeat Foyet with his bare hands as long as he found the right opportunity. However, if he took a step back, Foyet would understand that he had concerns. As long as he made a threat, he would have no choice but to take a step back.
"Oh, that's a good question. Then why did you come here, Bruce? Don't you want to save someone? Come on, Jack, say hello to Bruce. He is your father's friend. "
Bruce felt that he emphasized the word 'friend'.
"Hello, Bruce." The boy's soft, babyish voice came from the phone, with a hint of innocence and ignorance.
"Hello, Jack." Bruce lowered his eyes slightly. The expression on his face did not change. He had already turned off his phone and put it into the transparent bag beside him along with the gun.
"That's right. Then, Haley, please take the syringe on the table. Yes, that one. Inject it into Bruce."
Haley held the syringe in her hand and looked at Bruce hesitantly. Bruce raised his hand and made a blocking gesture. He said to the camera, "Do you think I will accept this? Listen to your orders? "
Who knew what was in the syringe, but it was nothing more than something that would make him lose the ability to resist. Compared to killing, Foyet preferred to torture people, especially mentally breaking them down. This gave him a sense of power.
"Come on, Jack, say goodbye to them." The threat in Foyet's words was self-evident.
"Do you think I care about them?" Bruce's lips curled into a cold smile.
"I'm sorry, Jones." Haley bit her lip and made a quick decision. She injected the syringe into Bruce's outstretched hand.
Even though Bruce did not expect Haley to make a move, with his reaction speed, it was not difficult for him to dodge. His expression changed slightly but he did not choose to dodge. He knew that if he did not do something, he would not even be able to see Foyet, let alone kill him. After all, his mutant ability allowed him to accelerate his metabolism and expel the drugs out of his body. However, during this process, some of the drugs would take effect faster in his body. Both of these factors meant that the time it took for the drugs to lose effect was much shorter than normal people.
Seeing the liquid in the syringe being injected into his body, he only had time to grab onto the table beside him to prevent himself from crashing to the ground. He leaned against the table and collapsed to the ground. His vision turned black and he lost consciousness.
When Bruce regained consciousness, he did not open his eyes immediately. Instead, he lowered his head and pretended to be unconscious to sense the situation. He was sitting on a chair. To be more precise, he was tied to a chair. His arms were tied behind the back of the chair and his legs were tied to the legs of the chair. Very good, they were tied to his wrists. He could not reach the dagger on his arm if it was still with him.
Next, he had to observe his surroundings. Bruce pretended to have just woken up. He opened his eyes and raised his head. He realized that his body was weak. As soon as he looked up, he met Foyet's gaze. Jack was sitting beside Foyet, playing chess on the table in front of the sofa. Haley stood by the table and looked at Jack.
"Oh, you're awake. Looks like the show is about to begin." Foyet was overjoyed. "You woke up much faster than I expected. Fortunately, I increased the dosage."
Bruce looked around. He was no longer in the same place. He was in the living room of another house. The neat and warm furnishings and the paintings on the wall showed that the original owner was a person who knew how to enjoy life. He looked out the window again and could not help but widen his eyes slightly.
Outside the window was a familiar street. Not far away, at the end of his line of sight was a small activity square that he used to pass every day for a period of time. 'Is this Haley and Jack's house?'
Foyet walked over and stood in front of Bruce. He looked down at Bruce and gestured the dagger in his hand to Bruce. "I remember this very well. When we fell from the second floor that day, this appeared in your hand like magic. Then, with one stab, you made me lose my ability to fight back." As he spoke, he stabbed the dagger into Bruce's chest. "I've washed off the anesthetic on it. This will allow us to communicate better."
The familiar dagger that was supposed to be in his arm was now in front of his chest. There was no handle, only a sharp blade. There were some patterns on it to increase friction so that it would not slip. Bruce's jacket was probably taken off when Foyet searched him for weapons. At that moment, he was only wearing a blue shirt. Soon, the shirt was stained red.
Bruce raised his head slightly to look at Foyet. He did not make a sound, but his breathing became heavier. He clenched his hands that were tied behind his back and felt weak in his body.
"I'm a little curious. Do you guys have to undergo similar training to not show fear when facing the murderer and look him in the eye? You remind me of Agent Hotcher when you look at me like this. He was like this when I stabbed him. He lasted nine stabs before he lost consciousness. Let's see how long you can last. "
"If you don't see fear in our eyes, that's because we are not afraid of you." When Foyet mentioned Hotch, Bruce's face darkened.
There was a sharp intake of breath. Foyet turned to look. Bruce saw Haley cover her mouth with one hand and cover Jack's eyes with the other. Jack's small hand covered Haley's hand that was covering his eyes. "Mum, why are you covering my eyes? Are you playing a game with me?"
"Tell him to leave, he shouldn't have seen this." Bruce realized something, and his expression changed. He took a deep breath.
"Perhaps he shouldn't have seen this, but what does that have to do with me?" Foyet wanted to pull out the dagger that was stuck in Bruce's body, but the dagger was too deep, and there was no handle. He tried twice but failed. Eventually, he left the dagger in Bruce's body. "Your weapon is not suitable for me." He took out a foldable knife from his pocket and popped the blade out. "I'm more used to this."
"What do you want?" Bruce's gaze shifted from the knife that Foyet had taken out and met Foyet's gaze.
"That's an interesting question, but you're already in my hands, Bruce. You can't fight back. What else can you give me?" Foyet smiled.
"You once made a deal to Officer Shaunessy. You won't commit any more crimes and he won't chase after you. He agreed, and you also stopped for ten years until he died. You made the same deal to Hotch, to me. You had the chance to kill Hotch, and now you have the chance to kill me, but you didn't do it. Compared to death, you'd rather see us submit, just like Officer Shaunessy. Defeating people like us will give you an unparalleled sense of power. "
"Oh, I have to admit that you know me well. That's true. It's too easy to kill a person. So, can you give me this? "
Bruce didn't say anything. He looked at Jack.
"Okay, Jackie.
Now, take your chess and go back to your room to play. " Jack walked up to his room on the second floor under Haley's persuasion. They watched Jack's small figure disappear down the stairs. Foyet turned to Bruce. "Now, it's your turn."
Bruce glanced at him and moved his gaze to the side. The sun shone on the green trees outside the window. It was a quiet and beautiful scene.
"No, no, no, I think you should look at me when you say that."
Bruce closed his eyes and allowed his gaze to land on Foyet's face. He didn't meet Foyet's gaze because he was afraid he wouldn't be able to control the murderous intent in his eyes. "You've won. I admit that you've defeated me." He told himself it was just a deal, but it was still humiliating to admit that someone like Foyet had won.
Foyet laughed loudly. "Even though I know you don't mean it, seeing you like this and hearing what you've said, it really makes me happy."
Bruce lowered his head slightly. He did not know when a small knife made of ice had appeared in his hand behind his back, but because his wrists were tied, he could only squeeze the ice knife between his fingers and bend his hand to use the knife to grind the rope that tied him up. Moreover, the thing made of ice was very slippery and not easy to handle. It gradually melted in his hand, making his hand a little stiff.
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