67 We'll Win

"We meet again, my old friend." Cecil smirked, and before Derrick could react, he took out the rope he had in his coat pocket and strangled him.

Derrick grabbed the rope around his neck with both hands and his forehead showed veins.

His strength was so great that Cecil had to grit his teeth and tighten the rope.

Derrick fell to the ground from lack of oxygen, his legs still struggling.

Cecil whistled, and a group of men jumped from the tall cargo boxes on either side, and they pounced on Derrick, pinning him to the ground.

Cecil sighed in relief and untied the ropes, he patted the dirt on his hands and sneered, "I won't kill you because you're still useful. But remember, you lost me the last time you were in France, and you're still a LOSER this time."

Derrick glared at Cecil, his eyes appearing bloodshot with anger.

"Don't look at me like that," Cecil bent down to look at him and patted his angry face, "We were merciful to you in France when we didn't kill you, and I didn't think you