Conan: Begins to collaborate with Miss Bayonetta and become famous

Chapter 729 I think this woman is Vermouth

Vermouth tilted her head and looked at Baijiu.

Baijiu smiled faintly, holding his hands to his chest, "Get ready."

New York, North American organization headquarters, technical department.

A large number of members were sitting in front of computers, typing away on the keyboards. On the large screen in front of them was a map of Europe with a red dot marked on it.

That's where liquor might be found.

The computers of the members of Zone B are all filled with photos of McCarron, and they are responsible for tracking down his whereabouts.

A man was running wildly in the corridor, holding a notebook in one hand and a stack of documents in the other, his footsteps making clattering sounds.

In the director's office on the second floor, two men looked through the glass window at the busy members.

“Satellite surveillance covering all seven continents, DNA analysis, facial recognition, drone surveillance, drone bombing.”

The man who spoke was Brent. He was very dissatisfied with the operation of the airplane head and was extremely annoyed:

"How are we going to find the liquor and Macallan before they do?" He turned around.

Lao Hei, wearing a cowboy hat, sat in his seat with a calm face.

"I'm not looking for them, I'm looking for her." Lao Hei looked at the woman in front of him who was disguised as Vermouth.

"What do you mean?" Brent came over with his hands in his pockets.

"These drawings." Lao Hei tapped on the keyboard, uploaded them to the cloud, and then moved the sketch forward: "What did you find?"

Brent held it in front of him and examined it carefully. His eyes first locked on the man with black-framed glasses on his left. He pointed at the man's face.

"All I know is that the liquor team leader isn't quite sure who this man is."

"But he knew this woman." Brent held up the self-portrait of the woman on the right: "Even I feel like Vermouth is involved."

Lao Hei didn't dare to draw a conclusion easily. He was more cautious and conservative: "I'm not sure whether it was Belmode, but there is one thing that is certain."

"Baijiu trusts her very much." Lao Hei's hand formed into an arc claw, and he continued to deduce from this: "I dare say that Baijiu has already found her."

"Or he is on his way to find her." Lao Hei continued to reason: "Then, finding her is equivalent to finding white wine."

"That's already proven." Brent swallowed his saliva: "This woman is Vermouth."

Brent expressed his own opinion: "Baijiu will not trust a woman easily."

Lao Hei took out his phone and clicked on Belmode's social media page: "Now her IP is still in Tokyo, and her watermark is also in Tokyo."

"If Vermouth is better, it means we are all one."

Brandt was instantly in high spirits. He had found the right person in Blackie. This was the best thing he had done in the past week.

He couldn't wait to ask: "Can portraits be used for facial recognition?"

"Ordinary people definitely can't do it." Lao Hei smiled and said, "But I can do it at home."

"Very good, you are so reliable." Brandt patted Lao Hei's muscular shoulder and then looked towards the direction of the plane's nose.

The pilot seemed to have spider sense. He turned his head sharply and Brent's droopy and annoyed expression instantly turned into a happy smile.

He stretched out his palms, gestured hello to the plane head, and forced a smile from the corners of his mouth. Then he half turned his head, put his hands on his hips and asked:

“How much longer will it take?”

"Found it." Lao Hei pressed the Enter key.

Brent rested his arms on the table and leaned forward to look at the computer screen. It was a surveillance picture with a blue frame on it.

The woman was automatically locked by the blue frame.

Lao Hei lifted the lid of the thermos, took a sip of hot water, and explained: "The CCTV captured her at the airport in Casablanca."

"Oh my God..." Brandt was impressed by Lao Hei's skills.

"Whoosh! Whoosh!" Two streams of air fell from the sky.

As it approached the ground, the parachute opened and the man, holding a pistol equipped with a jammer, shot at the surveillance cameras outside the military factory.

"Bang!" The surveillance screen lost signal.

"Screech!" A white Bentley drove into the door.

A tall and mighty soldier, fully armed, came over with a rifle in hand, "Show me your ID card."

The man in the cab was McCarron, wearing a black suit with a light grey lining and a blue tie.

Wearing a pair of sunglasses, he is a gentleman with elegant manners.

However, the suit seemed particularly tight, causing McCarron to constantly move his tie.

Because this set of clothes was originally prepared by Vermouth for Baijiu.

"Hello." McAllen took out the card from his pocket.

The soldier took off his dust mask and compared his ID card with McAllen's.

At the same time, on the high platform.

Baijiu and Vermouth landed perfectly. They quickly retracted the parachutes into their arms, and Baijiu did not slack off at all.

He grabbed Vermouth's wrist and started running immediately.

"Sorry." McAllen took off his sunglasses and smiled.

The soldier nodded, and the moment he turned around, McAllen pressed the button next to the handbrake, and a line of text appeared above the screen in the car.

The card "failed" the moment the soldier put it against the card machine.

McCarron pressed the button decisively, and the soldier put the card into the card reader. There was a "ding" sound, but the gate in front did not rise.

He swiped the card again, but it still didn't rise.

Baijiu and Vermouth crossed the fence, slid down the slope from the solar panel, and stuck a round button device on the glass.

"Ziz, ziz, ziz!" The extremely hard board suddenly broke.

Baijiu jumped into the yellow shelf below first. He caught Vermouth, then picked up the pistol and shot at the surveillance camera.

The surveillance camera came back on, and the soldier handed the card back to McCarron: "Your card cannot be recognized."

McAllen looked embarrassed and his palms were covered with sweat.

Just when he was at an impasse, a reassuring voice came from the headset: "McAllen, we've infiltrated."

Macallan breathed a sigh of relief and swiped down immediately. A new option appeared below, saying "Release".

"Click" the door slowly opened.

"Thank you." McCarron smiled.

The soldier looked at it in bewilderment. He touched the back of his head and muttered to himself, "Could it be... a bug..."

He said, "I need someone to fix it."

McCarron let out a long sigh and shouted in his heart.

"Great!" Then he stepped on the accelerator and drove quickly inside.