Muhammad clenched his fists and slowly turned around. He saw a middle-aged American standing there with a pistol.
This is Pakistan, a country under the rule of law. Except for the military and police, ordinary people are not allowed to own guns. And this American is actually holding a gun here!
The owner of this bar is not Pakistani, but American! And the relationship must be special! Muhammad looked at the gun pointed at him, which was three meters away from him. At this distance, it was difficult for him to grab the gun, but the American could easily pull the trigger and kill him.
But, would this American dare to shoot at me? This is Pakistan!
Muhammad sneered and pointed to his chest: "Here's my heart, shoot me if you dare!"
Muhammad said as he walked forward.
Sure enough, the boss took two steps back and kept his distance from Muhammad.
"Shoot! You don't dare to fight the Soviets, but you are here to show off your power!" Muhammad continued: "With your tricks, you still want to fight me. The number of Soviets I have killed is enough to fill a reinforced company."
Muhammad continued to take a few steps forward, and the boss continued to retreat until he reached the bar, with nowhere to go.
Muhammad put his chest against the gun, held the barrel with his hand, and said, "Shoot."
The American in front did not move, so Muhammad snatched the gun away, separated the magazine from the barrel, and threw it to the ground. He was full of tiger spirit.
Muhammad turned around and left the bar with the girl.
The girl held Muhammad's arm, her body still shaking a little. Only after they left the bar did she subconsciously want to let go. However, she had drunk too much and could hardly walk steadily.
"Where is your home? I'll take you home," said Muhammad.
"Here." The girl pointed to the corner of the street, where there was a mosque.
"No, it's here." The girl turned her finger again and pointed to the guesthouse where Muhammad lived.
So, Muhammad knew that the girl was indeed drunk. The beer was strong and her eyes were so blurry that she really didn't know where her home was.
If he had no memory of his past life, Muhammad's best option would be to hand him over directly to the police. But now, he knew that was not a good thing to do, and besides, Muhammad didn't have too many constraints between men and women.
He brought the girl back to his place and put her on the bed. Muhammad sat on a chair beside her. He had slept all day but still had not gotten enough rest. Now, lying on the chair, Muhammad fell asleep again quickly.
Muhammad slept soundly until he heard some splashing sounds coming from the bathroom. He woke up and looked at himself. He saw that he was covered with a blanket, and the girl on the bed had gone to the bathroom.
"Creaky." At this moment, the bathroom door opened. Muhammad turned his head and saw a naked body walking out of the bathroom through his sleepy eyes.
Yes, it is naked. You can see the curves of the body are so well-proportioned. You can see the two balls of flesh on the chest are slightly drooping, and there are drops of water sliding down from them little by little.
Her wet hair was disheveled, and when she saw Muhammad staring at her through her hair, she felt obviously shy.
At this moment, Muhammad felt something stirring under his crotch. He quickly suppressed the desire in his heart and said, "Are you awake?"
"Well, I took a bath and felt much better." Aisha said: "Thank you for helping me twice. I can repay you in any way."
The girl's feelings were clear, and Muhammad threw the blanket he was wearing to her: "Put it on first, be careful not to catch a cold."
The blanket covered the girl's chest perfectly. She turned it around and skillfully wrapped it around her body and tied it up.
With her chest held high and her hips raised, she is even more seductive than before.
"Why did you end up in a bar run by an American?" Muhammad asked. Actually, he just asked casually because the situation was very awkward and he wanted to change the subject.
He has a high IQ but obviously low EQ. In his previous life, Muhammad was introduced by a matchmaker and married to a female officer. They always got married first and then fell in love. Moreover, he was either in training or exercises, and spent very little time with his woman.
Hearing Muhammad's words, Aisha's charming big eyes burst into tears: "I am not Pakistani, I escaped from Afghanistan. My hometown is in Kandahar. My father opened a factory and my mother taught in a middle school in Kandahar. Later, the Soviets came and the factory was destroyed in the war. My father was also injured. Later, he took my mother and me to escape here. Just after we arrived here, my father went to meet God, leaving only my mother and me. My mother missed my father so much that she became seriously ill and was admitted to a hospital here."
Aisha has a unique temperament, which is definitely not possessed by ordinary illiterate Afghan civilians. She dresses sexy and fashionably, but is very proud in her bones, and her eyes reveal the grace and elegance that only the upper class can have.
If she were an ordinary Afghan girl, she would never take a bath here in Muhammad. There is a water shortage in Afghanistan, and some people can only take a bath a few times in their entire life.
Of course, taking a bath here may have other purposes, such as seducing oneself.
Aisha stood in front of Muhammad and said, "After coming here, I was lucky enough to find a job at Peshawar Radio Station and earn some salary, but the salary was still not enough to cover my mother's hospital expenses, so I could only do some part-time jobs. My colleagues at the radio station introduced me to these Americans. As long as I accompanied them to drink, I would get tips. Who knew that these Americans even wanted me to sleep with them?"
Aisha's body was shaking a little, and her crystal tears fell drop by drop on her bare feet. She continued to say to Muhammad: "You said you killed the Soviets. You are a hero of our Afghan people. I admire heroes very much. I really like you."
After saying that, Aisha gently untied the blanket, and the blanket slid to the ground, and her whole body was exposed to Muhammad again.
"At this moment, I am yours. Hold me tight, my love." Aisha said emotionally. She hooked her arms around Muhammad's neck and pressed her firm chest against Muhammad's chest.
Muhammad felt a surge of blood and all his desires were released in an instant.
Two strong arms hugged Aisha, and Aisha's soft body was lifted into the air and thrown onto the bed. Muhammad began to take off his clothes quickly.
"Ding-ling-ling, ding-ling-ling." Just then, the phone on the table rang.
Muhammad recovered instantly. He picked up the phone and heard the chief of staff's voice: "Mhammad, come to the headquarters immediately."
"Yes." Muhammad stood at attention and answered solemnly.
Hanging up the phone and looking at Aisha lying on the bed, Muhammad said, "Aisha, it's already light outside. You can rest for a while and then go to work."
"No, I want to be with you. I want to kill the Soviets and avenge my father!" Aisha said.
Muhammad shook his head and left quickly without waiting for Aisha to speak.
The cool breeze of the early morning blew on Muhammad's head, and his mind became extremely clear. This Aisha stuck to him like a piece of gummies. Are Afghan girls so bold and proactive?
In the headquarters, Muhammad once again met the Chief of Staff Mushaaf with a serious face.
"Mhammad, your performance in Afghanistan has attracted the attention of American friends. The head of the CIA in Peshawar wants to meet you and discuss providing assistance to the guerrillas. This is an opportunity," said Mushaaf.
Muhammad nodded and gave Mushaaf a grateful look.
Smart people don't need to talk too much. Asking the Americans for the Stinger is an almost impossible request. Originally, Muhammad had no chance to communicate with the Americans face to face. Now is an opportunity. He must seize this opportunity to convince the Americans to provide him with this weapon!
The weapons provided by the United States were all transferred through the CIA. By building upon the CIA as a bridge, it meant that the guerrillas led by him would be able to obtain a steady supply of weapons in the future!
Muhammad sat upright, looking straight ahead, until he heard footsteps outside.
"Ball, welcome here." Mushaaf stood up and walked to the door.
"You're too serious here. Next time, let's talk in a more relaxed and cheerful place." Bauer outside laughed heartily: "Actually, my bar is pretty good."
As he spoke, Ball walked in and saw Muhammad standing behind Mushaaf.
At the same time, Muhammad also saw Ball. Suddenly, Muhammad was surprised: "Why is it you?"
"Lieutenant Muhammad, do you know Mr. Ball?" Mushaaf was also very surprised.
Muhammad felt awkward. He knew him. He had met him last night. At that time, the American in front of him was holding a pistol. He pressed his chest against the other party's pistol, forced the other party to the bar counter, snatched the gun, disassembled the magazine, threw it away, and walked away.
How could the owner of this bar, who condones the Americans' wrongdoings, be the head of the American CIA in Peshawar?
That's right. Only the head of the CIA would dare to carry weapons in Peshawar and take them out. Today's Pakistan has the confidence to confront the Soviets only because the Americans are supporting it.
Oh no, I have offended this guy. It seems that it will be even more difficult to get weapons from him.