Chapter 14 Chapter 11

I found myself lying quietly in a white room. I heard people talking around me, both Bahraini and English.My head was dizzy, and I didn't know if it was a dream or reality.There is no window in the room, so it is impossible to know whether it is day or night.My left hand was handcuffed to the bed frame, and an IV was attached to my right arm.Oxygen tubes were inserted into the nostrils, and another tube was inserted into the throat, probably for gastric lavage and oxygen. I'm not fully awake yet, I don't know if it's the anesthetic or the fatigue, but the feeling is still hazy.It took a lot of effort to open my eyes.It seems like a dream in my memory, this white house is like a transit point from one world to another.I had a vague recollection of swallowing the poison, and immediately realized that the poison had worked.

I just lay in the detention room in a trance, not thinking about anything.A moment of coma, a moment of sobriety, numbness, confusion.Gradually, I seemed to wake up a little bit, and when I turned around, I saw two nurses in traditional Arabic costumes sitting beside the bed.Standing by the door were two dark-skinned men in field uniforms. The muzzles of their machine guns were placed at a forty-five-degree angle, as if they were ready to fire at any time.Frightened, my first reaction was to pinch my thigh. Oops, this is not a dream. I'm not dead!I'm alive. I'm desperate again.Why am I not dead?I must have inhaled not enough poison, I was on the verge of death, but obviously I did not succeed in dying.

It didn't make me happy to survive, and I knew the ordeal was about to begin. The weakened body and the new panic made me stupor for a while.When I woke up, I saw a nurse with a pair of scissors in his pocket.I tried to grab it, hoping to stab myself to death before they could stop me, but I was tied firmly to the bed and couldn't move. After a while, the oxygen inhaler and the rubber tube in the mouth were removed.Immediately, I bit my tongue hard. When I was very young, I heard that this could kill myself, but I just made myself hurt like hell.It was absurd to believe such nonsense in retrospect.

After trying to kill myself by biting off my tongue and failing, I wanted to suffocate myself.I was holding my breath, and my face was flushed.Soon, soon, I try my best to hold on.But in the end, he didn't persist until death as he thought, but became breathless.At that time, I didn't know that once a person loses consciousness, the human body will automatically recover the breathing function. Damn it!I'm angry, why the hell can't I die? ! I'm wondering if Kim Soon Il is still alive, maybe he's dead.If the poison hadn't killed him (assuming he had inhaled the gas), the stress he'd been under since his arrest would have done him enough.It's amazing that he survived to that age.

A new fear came over me at the thought of him.I miss him, but now I'm really, really, completely alone. I want to be strong.I think the beloved leader trusts me.I want to dedicate myself to the motherland, to the reunification of the motherland, and I can't embarrass the motherland. At least one thing is certain: the plane has blown up. Today I am no longer proud of this task.As I said, before I was arrested, I was only thinking about completing this task, and I hardly ever asked my conscience.But today when I think of those who lost their lives, I feel very sad. The nurses were talking in low tones, and I tried to catch what they were saying, but luckily they were speaking English, and I could understand most of it.They said I couldn't die, but Kim Soon Il was already dead.

I was devastated and had mixed feelings.We were once friends and I am saddened by his death.I envied him that he could die and never face a trial like me again. At the same time, I was angry that he took a step ahead and left me to suffer alone.Although he is weak, he is experienced.I have always been comforted by his presence, who has saved me from danger in the course of my mission and in the many uncertain moments. So I did a strange thing I had never done in my life, and I began to pray. I remember the year my little brother Fan Zhu died, I went home to visit and saw my mother put a bowl of water in front of a makeshift altar in the bedroom.It takes a lot of courage to do this, because North Korea completely prohibits religious belief, and the mother is desperate to burn incense and worship Buddha, begging God to show mercy and save the child's life.

Now I'm praying myself: Please, God, if you exist, let me die, immediately, please! The act of praying to a god whom one does not know is painful in itself. What scares me the most is: if I live, can I keep my spy status and the secret of this trip.Once I betray the secret, I am forever a traitor in the eyes of the leader and my country.My arrest does not mean that I have failed in this task.Kim Soon Il is dead and he took the secrets he knew to his grave, as long as I can keep silent, I'm still North Korea's savior. But now, it's not North Korea that's on my mind, it's my family.This time I was praying to God, not to the great leader Kim Il Sung as I am used to.He would have been the closest thing to a god I've ever known.

A few more hours passed.A Filipino nurse came in to change the shift of the two nurses.There was a female police officer standing beside her.There is no doubt that they were ordered to watch my every move day and night, to ensure that I survived at all costs.They wouldn't even let me fall asleep; they were worried that if I did, I would lose consciousness.As soon as I closed my eyes, the nurse ran over, patted my face, and called softly: Mayumi, Mayumi! It seems they still like me.But I couldn't help thinking that they were only doing this at the orders of their superiors so that they could extract a confession from me.My first reaction was to scold them and tell them to get out and leave me alone, but then I realized that the nurse and the female police officer were doing this out of a simple desire: to save someone's life.

Now I regret never being grateful for their kindness and thoughtfulness.I, an executioner of many innocent lives, is not worth saving.But they didn't let me die, I was very sad and regretful.I can only use this book to convey my gratitude to them. Although I have regained my vitality, every part of my body is in pain.Especially the right knee joint seemed to be injured, and it hurt like hell when I moved it.The mouth was festered by the inhalation of the poison, and the tongue was too swollen to swallow saliva. I started having nightmares.Once I dreamed that my family members boarded Flight 858. After I put the explosives in the overhead compartment, I yelled at them to get off the plane.Kim Soon-il's face was horribly green, his eyes were motionless in his skull, and he was grabbing me with a skeleton-like hand, trying to drag me off the plane.I tried desperately to break free, but he held on tight, and I hysterically called my family for help, but they couldn't understand what I was saying.Kim ended up dragging me to the door of the plane and throwing me out.I woke up screaming as I plummeted toward the runway.

Mayumi!Wake up!Nurses came running to try to calm me down, but I whimpered and cried for hours. Later, I had another dream: On a snow-covered mountain road, I ran into my family members, but they ignored me and treated me as a stranger; walked by.Bum-soo walked behind, he took my hand, and suddenly, we jumped into the air and flew over the mountain like eagles.We were circling around a crater, and Fan Zhu gave me a ferocious smile, and suddenly let go of my hand, and I fell into the bottomless abyss.Terrified, I screamed and woke up. I can't remember the days, I just feel as if I'm on a journey between life and death.When I fell asleep, I was disturbed by nightmares, and when I woke up, I saw a nurse and a female police officer around me.There was a black nurse with beautiful brown eyes who washed my face and combed my hair gently and considerately every day, which made my suspicion and hostility disappear a lot.

Once she took my hand and said: We are friends, Mayumi, I hope you believe that. After she left the room, two well-dressed men entered.I pretended to be asleep. We know you're not asleep, so open your eyes. Korean words reached my ears.I almost opened my eyes because of panic.But I tried my best to keep my eyes closed, and my back broke out in cold sweat.At this moment, I stabilized my emotions and pretended not to understand Korean.They repeated what they had just said, but I didn't respond. I'm actually very happy to hear the language of my own country, especially in such a foreign country.But it made it harder for me to keep silent. Then I heard Japanese again.I opened my eyes.One was the Japanese who detained us at the airport; the other was the South Korean who questioned Kim in our hotel room. Since then, I have only answered questions in Japanese.The South Korean, impatient with me ignoring his questions, walked up and down the room talking to himself. Listen, the Japanese said: We want to know something from you, we want to save you, Mayumi-kun, but if you don't say a word, we can't help you.We just want you to recover as soon as possible. I nodded, but I knew he was suspicious of me, and his sympathy was obviously fake.From time to time I noticed him watching me.It was clear I wasn't going to work with them, and they finally walked out of the ward. I sigh.Finally passed the first hurdle, but this is just the beginning. I felt like I had to figure out a strategy, to look for every possible opportunity to kill myself, and at the same time figure out what to say to them.After the first cross-examination, I still have lingering fears.Using the mind control techniques I had learned, I slowly regained the status of at least a psychological agent. The best way is to pretend to be dumb.But when I think about it, I've spoken, or at least moaned, in front of the nurse.It didn't work. Since my most important thing is not being able to speak in Korean, the choice left to me is: pretend to be Japanese or pretend to be Chinese?My captors already knew that my Japanese passport was fake.There's another question: my relationship with Kim Soon-il. I guess they will extradite me back to Japan.I once heard North Korean propaganda that the Japanese police were ruthless and loved to use severe torture to extract confessions from the interrogated.I also heard that they are especially cruel to Koreans, using various methods to torture Koreans. If extradited to South Korea, it would be better to go to Japan.It is said that the police in South Korea will use the cruelest punishment in the world to deal with me: gouging out my eyes, knocking out my teeth, and peeling off my nails.Every North Korean agent who returns safely from a mission in Seoul is considered a hero for this very reason. So I must not be recognized as Korean or Japanese, then I can only be said to be Chinese.If they took my word for it and sent me back to China, it would be possible for me to go back to Pyongyang because the two governments are close partners.There was no apparent evidence that I had anything to do with the explosion, and it did not appear to exist at the time.As long as I insist that it has nothing to do with blowing up the Korean plane, they can't do anything to me. I had to figure out how to pretend to be Chinese, and weave an impeccable experience.Shu Ji and I have been to Macau as Chinese.It seems that I can use Bai Cuihui, a Chinese woman's name, but use Wu Ying's experience as my resume, and come up with a crown.Maybe it can't fool people, but I can't think of any other better way. My physical condition is improving day by day.Wearing a blue hospital gown, he was sitting in a wheelchair with his hands still handcuffed to the chair.The nurses wiped my face, bathed me, and of course, it was very embarrassing.In short, I am always surrounded by people, and there are armed guards guarding the door 24 hours a day.They fed me some liquid food like milk.It didn't take long for me to understand that they were going to restore me to health for a formal interrogation. I am ready for this moment to come. A few days later, I don't know how long, I was put in a wheelchair and taken to a police car outside the hospital.The weather was fine, the sun was shining brightly, and the dazzling light made me unable to open my eyes.It was the first time I had seen the outside world since my arrest, but the sight made me even more depressed.It reconfirmed what I had thought while lying in a hospital bed: that while my world came to an end, other people's lives continued unscathed.They put a veil over me, as is the custom of the Arabs.A thought flashed through me: I'm going to be executed.Instead they carried me into the car and drove on through town. Bahrain is a subtropical paradise.I just want to walk on the silvery sand, wade in the warm surf, and forget that I was a spy and that I blew up a plane.I thought of playing in the water with my family without any worries while living in Cuba.But now I am no longer a child, and my parents can't save me.Like any adult, I must take responsibility for my actions and I will suffer and die alone.I looked enviously at the innocent people walking on the street, although they were only a few steps away, their situations were very different.I'm totally in awe of them. Our car drove out of Mannamar, came to the countryside, and drove onto a deserted road.Finally, I came to a police station surrounded by high walls and heavily guarded. Guards with guns stood at the door. When the car stopped, they took me into a small, dark room with an iron bed and a desk.As soon as I saw this place, I knew the real trial was about to begin. They put me on the bed and handcuffed me to the bed frame.After a while, a middle-aged foreigner couple walked in.Both were blonde and blue-eyed, and they looked at me curiously, without malice.After a while, the man introduced slowly and carefully in English: My name is Henderson.This is my wife, Maria.I am the head of the Bahrain Police Service.He asked me how I felt and Maria stared at me with wide blue eyes.I felt like she was looking at monkeys in a zoo, a sense of humiliation welled up, and tears flowed uncontrollably.Seeing this, she quickly took out a handkerchief and wiped away the tears on my face. It's all right, dear.She finished with a kiss on my cheek.Don't worry about anything.She beckoned to the two nurses standing by, and they deftly took off my patient gown and put me in a blue Chinese nightgown.she is so beautiful.I heard some of them say that, but I felt they were just trying to torture me with feigned sympathy.This is just another trick to get my confession out. I must not be careless and fall into the trap of these people. Henderson seemed to see my thoughts, and said again: I suggest you cooperate with us.You haven't said a word to anyone so far, and this government doesn't like you very much. There was a threat in his words.What do you want me to say?I asked him back. His face was gloomy and disappointed.We will come back tomorrow.He stood there and said: Think about what I said. I can't remember how many days I spent at the police station.Just like in a hospital, no matter where you go, there are nurses with you.Either because of the heinous crimes I committed, or because I was a young woman, they all took an interest in me.Three police officers and a nurse watched over me at night.The handcuffs were swollen and my knees still ached, but I never showed pain.I struggled to bear the ordeal without losing my dignity. As ordered by my doctor, I have physical therapy every day.A nurse supported me and dragged my left foot around the hall for two hours.Take your pulse and temperature every hour.Eating and taking medicine are semi-mandatory every day. One day, they were going to draw blood from me for tests.I almost became hysterical.When I was in North Korea, they told me: After being raped, if they don’t confess, they will inject a drug into their blood vessels, so that the tortured person will confess everything without knowing it.The nurse felt very strange seeing me trembling, and kept comforting me, but to no avail.In the end, she simply pressed my arm and finished drawing blood. At this point I thought I couldn't keep silent any longer.I have to tell them something, lie, or I'll be locked up in this room forever, unable to get out of it.I started asking for water and said my wrist was hurt.The nurses and police officers guarding me were ecstatic at the sight, and soon the whole building knew that Mayumi had spoken. Henderson and his wife didn't know what she was doing, maybe just to make me talk and still come to the ward every afternoon.They brought me some clothes and refreshments and tried to make me feel at ease.At first they often talked about trivial matters, and then suddenly mentioned the bombing of the South Korean plane.I either didn't answer him, or simply said I didn't know. In the end, they had no choice but to write out the question in Chinese and let me answer it. Q: What's your name? Answer: Bai Cuihui. Q: What is your nationality? Answer: China. Q: What is your date of birth? Answer: January 27, 1964. Q: Place of birth? Answer: Wuchang City, Heilongjiang Province, China. Q: Where was the final residence? Answer: Forty-six Ebisu, Shibuya, Tokyo, Japan. Q: Are your parents still alive? Answer: Not anymore. Q: What are the names of your siblings? Answer: No siblings. I told them I was an orphan and had nothing to do with the crash in South Korea.I don't understand why you keep questioning me.I turned my finger on them, turning defense into offense.Is it a crime just because you took this plane? The more I complained to them, the more they showed distrust of me.However, they still treated me politely and asked about my physical condition with concern. One morning, without asking for my opinion, the nurse took me to the bathroom and told me to wash my face.Because one hand was handcuffed, I had to use the other hand and wash my face like a cat.The nurse squeezed a little toothpaste and put it on the toothbrush. As soon as I put the toothbrush into my mouth, I suddenly felt a unique fragrance of toothpaste spreading in my mouth.After returning to the room, they asked me whether I would like tea or coffee, and I asked for tea.Suddenly, I became uneasy about the change of treatment, wondering what tricks they were up to. I had just put down my teacup when the Hendersons came again.He said good morning to me with a big smile, and I was about to answer when I suddenly saw a group of people behind them.I closed my eyes with anxiety and fear.Those people are journalists. As soon as they came in, they turned on the flash, pressed the shutter of the camera, and kept taking pictures.They ordered me to pose in various poses according to their requirements.Now my photo will be splashed across the front pages of newspapers around the world.Everyone will talk about the murderer who took 115 innocent lives.Of course my family has no way of knowing.However, in the last letter my mother wrote to me, she mentioned that my father would go on a business trip to Angola for a month.I can picture him walking into the hotel lobby, buying a morning paper and reading it.What would a father think when a photo of his daughter was posted on the front page, with the words "murderer" written underneath it? As soon as the reporters left, two South Korean agents came in again and examined all parts of my body carefully, as if I were an animal exhibited in a zoo. I covered my face with my hands and began to cry.As soon as the South Korean was gone, Henderson went to the bed and sat down. Why are you afraid of South Koreans, Mayumi? It's not that I'm afraid, I'll rob him.I hate the way they treat me, that's all. So you're not surprised by their presence? What's the surprise?You accuse me of blowing up a South Korean plane, and those South Koreans are naturally interested in me. The next day some Japanese officials came to see me, and they also wanted to trick me into saying something.I felt that they were not absolutely sure that I was Korean, so I tried to use pure Japanese as much as possible when I spoke, with some success.When they left, I could not be identified. I sighed, both tired and relieved.Things didn't get any easier because of that.Until then, I didn't know how difficult the road ahead would be. The person who arrested me may have lost his patience and invited an English woman from Hong Kong to act as an interpreter.This man is Maria's friend and speaks fluent Cantonese.She introduced herself as Camila, was thirty-four years old, and had been in Bahrain with her husband for two years.The husband is Chinese, and the couple opened a restaurant here.She is a charming woman, and I envy her ordinary and simple married life.In fact, she's also the happiest woman I've ever met. Because I envy her very much, I feel even more pathetic.Before the interrogation started, I started to cry.At first they just asked some trifles sympathetically. Alright, Mayumi, let's start from the beginning.After I calmed down, Camilla started asking me: where were you born? I was born in Wuchang City, and my father was the party secretary of a construction company.He was labeled a traitor during the Cultural Revolution, was tortured and released home, where he committed suicide not long after.My mother left me and married a man in Beijing.Since then I have been alone and wandering around.Having said that, I couldn't help crying again.It breaks my heart to mention parents even if they are fictional.These two women thought I was grieving because of the memories of my lonely childhood, and they waited patiently for me to recover. I was homeless, so I continued: In the end, my grandmother took me in. She sold newspapers on the streets of Guangzhou, and I settled down there.I became a temporary worker in the cafeteria.Then I met Wu Ying, a girl about my age, and we stole a boat with some young men and we fled to Macau together. They seemed to be deeply attracted by my story, and even I myself fell into the illusion that I was really that person. I found a job in a casino in Macau.There, I met an old Japanese man named Shinichi Mineya, who treated me very well.I told him about my life experience, and he was very sympathetic to me.He offered to let me go to Japan with him to be his adopted daughter and take care of housework for him.At that time, my life was difficult, and his appearance was like a gift. I couldn't go back to China anyway, so I accepted his request. His family lives in Ebisu Road, Shibuya District, Tokyo.He named me Mine Valley Mayumi. The old man treated me like his own daughter, but he didn't let me go out. He warned that I didn't have a formal residence permit, and if I went outside, I would be arrested as a stowaway, so I rarely go out.He promised to take me to Europe two or three times a year, or to America.A few weeks ago, we traveled to Europe, and he was in charge of applying for passports and buying air tickets.Now that I am in this predicament, the only person who can prove my words is dead, it seems that I will be taken to South Korea to be tortured, and then die on a trumped-up charge! I sobbed again.To my surprise, the older woman cried too, and Camilla asked me if she could help me; as if she, too, cared that I was really going to die. Cuihui, she used my original name for the first time.You must insist on not going to South Korea, no matter if you are guilty or not, they will have a way to get you to confess. Got it, I cried, feeling guilty at the same time for cheating on her.But don't let me go!Although I decided not to tell them anything, I was overwhelmed by their pure and human kindness. The cross-examination ended here, and it was only me and the guards left.I fell asleep anxiously.Because I was often plagued by nightmares, I was afraid that I would speak Korean in my dream when I fell asleep.That night, I dreamed that I was back at the training base of Jingshan Military Academy and was doing a two-kilometer swimming practice.I was swimming across a small lake. My teacher, Mr. Pu, rowed a boat in front, and I swam behind, but my hands and feet couldn't be controlled, and I couldn't swim at all.I started to sink, choked on a few sips of water, struggled desperately and shouted for help, but when I turned around, it was not Teacher Park, but my father.He looked at me expressionlessly, continued paddling away, and let me sink to the bottom.dad!I cried out with the last bit of strength: Dad, I'm going to die! I woke up from the dream still sobbing, covered in sweat.The nurses were startled and rushed over to comfort me.I continue to cry and never see my father again, never again, and I will never be his little princess again. The female guard had to pray several times a day. She spread a Persian carpet on the floor, and people crawled on it, facing the southwest toward Mecca.I find it strange and ludicrous to worship a god that I can't even see.The North Korean people have been taught since childhood that religion is abhorrent, hypocritical, and even reactionary.They say people who believe in religion are hypocrites, and when I hear the word religion I immediately show contempt.I think it is much more noble and justifiable to think of our great leader as a hero and a spiritual force than to be religious, because he is always present in front of us.I noticed the solemn and reverent facial expression of the female police officer, and wondered whether North Koreans were so respectful in front of the portraits of Kim Il Sung or Kim Jong Il. It all comes naturally to children.They are encouraged to honor the Kims from the moment they learn to speak, but it is not so easy for adults.On the surface, they can only respect the Kim father and son.Much of the enthusiasm they displayed was feigned, and no one wanted to risk exile or a beating.In North Korea, the punishment for anyone who insults the Kims is to be beaten to death with an iron rod, that's the law. After the prayers were finished, the female guard rolled up the rug, came up to me, and compared my arm to hers.You must be Japanese, Mayumi, your skin is very light, look how dark my hand looks when it is next to yours! I smiled, but still wary of any tricks she might be hiding.She put on a friendly face, but I knew she thought of me as a terrorist in her heart. It was clear to Henderson that the interrogation was not going as smoothly as he had hoped.Next he sent a Japanese to interrogate me, and I recognized her as the Japanese whom Kim Soon-il and I had met at the Mannamar Hotel.I've seen her stare at us a few times in the hotel lobby, and stalked us in the street, and I regret not realizing she was a spy. This woman is called Okubo.She asked about Shinichi Minetani and me living in Japan.I repeated to Camilla what I had said to her.She translated my words to Henderson and passed Henderson's question to me. There are inconsistencies in my words.I can't remember every one of the storylines I made up, and when they asked me to describe where Shinichi Minetani lived, I improvised a story.They also asked about my education, eating habits and hobbies.I should have stopped there, but I continued to make up many answers along the way from question to question. At one point Henderson motioned for Okubo to stop and looked me over carefully, up and down. Cuihui, Henderson said slowly: You know that there are many South Korean spies in Bahrain asking us to hand you over to them. We are trying to help you.If you cooperate with us, you can go back to China, if you continue to lie, we have no choice but to send you to Seoul, think about it.He paused, made sure I understood what he was saying, and motioned for Okubo to continue asking. When asked about our trip to Europe, I took it easy.Henderson and I were fighting mind games, and I was losing out.When he asked about my situation on Flight 858, I said that the security check was very strict, and my whole body and all my luggage were searched. Henderson didn't believe that I was an orphan at all, because every time I asked about my family, I cried and cried.But I think the most suspicious thing is that I took poison.When they asked me, I replied like a silly innocent middle school student: Shinichi Mineya asked me to do this. Okubo asked me again what I thought of Shinichi Minetani.I know this question has to be asked after all. I said before that Kim Soon-il is a complete gentleman, but I am a mature young woman after all, and I also know that in other countries' cultural concepts, people will naturally doubt the relationship between us. Some love affairs.I mentioned this to my superiors in Pyongyang before my first assignment to Europe.During that mission, I was very nervous and cautious, so naturally I would not ignore such details.But when I put forward my opinion, the boss yelled at me: Where do we have the money to give you two rooms?He looked at me as if I had made some mental error.I am a secret agent, and I am supposed to ensure my own safety. Do you live in the same room when you travel?Did anything happen between the two of you? Of course not, I was so angry that I pushed back the words.He treats me like a daughter. Does your room have a double bed or two single beds? Two single beds. where do you change your clothes in the bathroom. Do you lock the bathroom door when you shower? Lock it of course, goddamn it! Have you ever seen Mineya Shinichi naked? I was mad as hell.What did you say? For example, Okubo continued to ask without raising his eyelids.Have you seen the scar on Mineya Shinichi's stomach after surgery? No, but I know he's had a knife in his stomach. Tell me, Okubo added, looking straight at me as Henderson watched: Have you ever had sex with any man other than Shinichi Minetani? I was so angry that I couldn't say a word, she took it as a shameful confession, and asked further: How many men have you had sex with? no answer. Have you ever had an orgasm? Do you seduce men as part of your espionage? Again no answer. Is Shinichi Minetani the best sex partner you've ever slept with? fuck you!I yelled at her in English and decided to pay her back with her set.He's an old man, do you understand? oh!Henderson chimed in: "You mean he tried and it didn't work out?" I stared at him, my blood was boiling, I wanted to find something to say back to him, but I was so angry that I didn't know what to say.Panting for breath, he cursed out some words incoherently. Too bad, Okubo said: From the autopsy, he was a perfectly functional person. This sentence completely pissed me off.Before they could stop them, I stepped over to the other side of the table and slapped her. Using the martial arts moves I had learned, I slapped her hard.I heard a crack on the bridge of her nose, and blood sprayed everywhere.Okubo screamed and fell to the ground.Henderson yelled to stop me, twisted my hands behind my back, I kicked his toes with my heels, he let go, and I punched him in the waist again, elbowed He bumped his head so hard that he couldn't stand still.I immediately went to search for his gun, thinking that I would shoot myself on the spot and kill myself.But the guards were already running by the door, and just as I was about to find Henderson's pistol, they grabbed my head and dragged me away. Don't shoot her!Henderson gasped.Out of the corner of my eye I see him slumped against the wall, bent over: that's what she wants, we want her alive! I know the way to get rid of the clamped head. I slashed my palm at the waist of the person who clamped me, and he let me go immediately. Pulling back and hitting him in the neck was a fatal blow.I drew my hand back into the palm of the blade to strike, when suddenly I felt a convulsion like an electric shock.I fell numb to the ground.I turned sideways and saw another guard standing in front of me with a stun gun in his hand, yelling, and before I could make another move, three guards ran over and handcuffed my hands behind my back , I'm hopeless. Henderson stood up, flushed with anger, breathing heavily.He stared down at me with resentment in his eyes.All right, Mayumi.He said angrily: Your chance is over.He turned to another person I couldn't see and said: Get her away, she belongs to South Korea now.