Daily life of an American TV drama agent

"Ron, you're so slow." As soon as Ron walked into the library, Reese couldn't help but complain.

This is not to say that Reise is looking for trouble. Ron came back too late. He came back a full hour later than the Ian who was brought back.

"But I got some information from those two idiots that might interest you. They were hired by a man named Kip Davis, who was Bruce Wellington's head of security. This is definitely not a coincidence." Ron said happily while throwing two wallets up and down.

"This clue is so useful!" Finch said excitedly: "I am now almost 100% sure that the mastermind of all this is old Mr. Wellington! Wait, Ron, where did your two wallets come from? "

Finch said, his eyes couldn't help but be attracted by the two bulging wallets in Ron's hands.

"What are you talking about? This belongs to the two unlucky killers just now. I checked and found that they haven't paid a penny in taxes from 2005 to now, so I helped them fill out a tax return. This It’s the labor fee for helping them fill out the forms~”

Ron raised the wallet in his hand. Judging from the bills exposed in the corner of the wallet, this wallet contained almost all 100-dollar bills. There was a lot of money to fill in not only two forms, but even 10,000. People rush to do it.

It didn't take a guess to know that the two unlucky guys must have been forced to volunteer again. Finch never expected that Ron could earn extra money while protecting his target.

"Women like me to guess their needs, so I follow up on their information, but I promise that I have not broken any laws. They told me these things directly when I asked them..."

At the librarian's table, Ian was still trying to explain to Gizelle how normal his behavior was. Now he no longer had the idea of ​​​​hunting for women, but had slipped to the other extreme, thinking that he was because of some previous behaviors. And was arrested by some special law enforcement agency.

"Have you not explained it to him yet?"

Finch shook his head: "I'm waiting for you to come back. If you can bring back some useful information, then we won't have to go to so much trouble. Thank you very much, you didn't let us down."

"OK, then leave it to me," Ron, who had just made a small amount of money, was in a good mood and took the initiative to take matters into his own hands.

Ron walked to the long table, grabbed Ian's chair, and turned it to face him: "Mr. Ian, do you know Wellington? He seems to be planning to hire someone to kill you. What did you do to his daughter?" what?"

Following Ron's question, Ian began to tell a bloody and cliched love story. To put it simply, it was a story about a rich girl and a poor boy falling in love, and then the rich matriarch beating the couple.

At first, the two of them could cope with each other based on their feelings, but then one day, the girl suddenly became pregnant. The hateful capitalist, the father took her to have a forced abortion. Well, he gave the poor boy a check to keep him away from that city. .

This also explains why Ian, a poor boy from a poor family, can have such a net worth today.

But after Ian finished telling the story, Divergent discovered something different from Mr. Wellington's Twitter account: "Ron, come and take a look at this!"

Ron walked over and saw a picture of a child on Finch's computer: "Tell me, do you think the same as me?"

"Okay, it seems we know the reason why Weining's husband wanted to kill Ian," Ron said suddenly, looking at the boy's eyes and facial contours that were exactly the same as Ian's in the photo.

, at this moment, only Samn was still confused: "Wait, what are you talking about? Why can't I understand?"

"It's very simple. Mr. Wellington deceived Yien and told him that he had an abortion, but in fact, he let his daughter give birth to the child. It may be family genes or other factors that caused Mr. Wellington's heirs to have difficulties. After his daughter died, he had to train the boy as his heir.

It is not a good thing for an heir to a Fortune 500 company to have a biological father with a different surname than his own. This will increase the risk of property embezzlement. Gentlemen, I think we should go to New York now. "

Ron turned around and said to everyone, but the response he expected did not come when he explained to Samn. Why did Mr. Wellington have to kill Ian? When the pay phone in the library rang, Finch walked over and picked up the phone. After listening to the call, his expression immediately changed.

"We're leaving for New York, but you can't come with us, Ron."

"Why? This mission is about to be completed. Are you telling me this because you intend to default on the debt?" Ron clenched his fists in a threatening manner. Rise immediately nervously touched his hand to his waist, but found nothing.

"You still want to fight with me, do you? Come on, you are no match for me." Ron smiled at him and took out a pistol, which was Reese's pistol.

"No, you misunderstood me." Finch quickly walked between the two of them and separated them: "Do you still remember that you told me to help you arrange for the machine to pay attention to your two friends? Just now the machine told I, one of them is in danger, and the call just now was made to you."

"Did the machine mention the name of the person in danger? Ethan? Or Bourne?" Ron asked quickly.

"Ethan, if you act fast now, you can still catch the plane to London in an hour and a half. The machine tells me that he is there. Your mission ends here. We will solve the rest here. Don’t worry, you won’t lose a penny.”

Back to this morning, Ethan, who had just met Ron, immediately got on the nearest plane after leaving the alley and flew to London, where he would meet up with the contact person arranged by the IMF.

Interestingly, just as Ron guessed, the meeting place was really at an old audio store, and the password for the connection was exactly the same as Ron guessed.

It has to be said that the secret codes of the agents are really not very fancy. After all these years, they still cannot escape the fixed routines from the Cold War period.

"Sorry sir, there is something going on in the store today, we will be closing soon."

As soon as Ethan walked into the audio store, the lights in the store went dark, and a blond and blue-eyed clerk came out from behind the counter and said.

"I'm quick, buy it and leave." Ethan pretended to be looking for records and was unmoved.

"What specific record are you looking for? Tell me and I'll help you find it. Maybe you can get me off work quickly."

Ethan's heart moved, this was the agreed upon secret code! Could it be that the person who contacted me was this clerk?

"I like to listen to the more niche ones." Ethan continued to answer according to the code.

The secret code for an agent's contact is often not just one sentence, but a combination of several special words.

After all, if you only rely on one sentence to connect, such as buying something, it will be great fun if you happen to meet a strange buyer. From the perspective of probability and statistics, this is not impossible.

"Let me guess, you like classical music?"

"No, I like Jazz."

"Saxophone? Or piano?"

"No, I prefer bass."

At this point in the conversation, the two finally confirmed each other's identities. The female clerk smiled and said, "You're lucky. There's also a collector's edition vinyl record here. If you want to audition, you can go there."

Ethan glanced to the side in the direction of the female clerk's eyes. There was a listening room over there.

"Thanks."

As soon as Ethan walked into the listening room, he immediately pressed the record on the gramophone impatiently. A magical scene appeared. The antique gramophone suddenly poked out a camera full of technology and quickly scanned Ethan's retina: "Identity confirmation. Ethan Hunt, good evening, Mr. Hunt.”

"The weapons you previously recovered in Belarus have been confirmed to be nerve gas, and the quantity is enough to destroy a large city. The bodies of all the crew members were found within 24 hours of the plane landing in Damascus, and their identities were identified as ordinary Albanian separatists."

"It is neither possible to contact nor have the ability to obtain the weapons they transported. This corroborates your suspicion that a behind-the-scenes organization is actively instigating a rebellion. The intelligence department speculates that this behind-the-scenes organization is Aidien, who you have been tracking for more than a year. .”

His inference was confirmed, and Ethan nodded with satisfaction, but unexpectedly, the next sentence of the mechanically synthesized voice made him feel strange.

"Normally, you and your team would be ordered to infiltrate and disrupt this terrorist network, but we've managed to make sure that doesn't happen because we are Aideen, Mr. Hunter, and now we know your identity. …”

Ethan's expression changed drastically. This was not a task issued internally by the IMF at all! This is a terrorist provoking him, this is a trap!

If this happens, there are only two possibilities. First, the entire CIA has been infiltrated into a sieve by them, and they give orders to themselves by controlling the CIA. Second, the entire underground intelligence network in London may have been exposed. This is the stronghold they captured.

Either way, it was very unfavorable for him, but before he could come up with a countermeasure, the gramophone over there continued to speak. It's just that the tone has changed from the original calm and serious to joking and teasing.

"Your mission, if you are willing to accept it, is to meet your destined fate. If you track us down, you will be caught. If you resist us, you will be killed. And your precious minister will not admit any of your actions at all. Good luck Mr. Hunter, this message will self-destruct in five seconds."

As soon as he finished speaking, a large amount of smoke suddenly spewed out from the ventilation duct under the phonograph. Seeing that the situation was not good, Ethan hurriedly yanked the door, but it did not move. He slapped the glass window in a panic, trying to attract the attention of the blond clerk outside.

However, the most unexpected thing happened to him. A man with flaxen hair and glasses pushed the female clerk who had just received him to the door and put a silenced pistol on the female clerk's head in front of her.

There was a muffled "bang" sound, and the female clerk fell to the ground.

"No!!!" Ethan yelled angrily, and tried harder to destroy the door, even using his knees and elbows, but it still had no effect. He could only watch the murderer swagger away, and his consciousness also disappeared. It became increasingly blurry in the smoke.

When he opened his eyes again, he found that he had arrived in a strange room at some point. He was naked and his hands and feet were handcuffed to a metal pipe. Ethan tried it and the handcuffs were very strong.

"Squeak~"

Hearing the noise inside, the large iron door of the room was opened, and a group of men with fierce faces filed in.

Ethan's heart tightened: "Am I going to have to confess here today?"

Not long after this thought came to Ethan's mind, he immediately threw it away because he saw Ron among the men who came in!

At this moment, he had a serious look on his face, carrying a toolbox in his hand, and followed the short-haired man next to him. When he noticed Ethan's gaze, Ron secretly made a face at him from an angle that no one else could notice.

"This wave is stable!" Ethan was ecstatic, but his good qualities as an agent allowed him to suppress these things and did not show any expression of joy.

The short-haired man walked up to Ethan and looked him over with a displeased expression: "I don't know what the boss likes so much about you that he didn't kill you."

"Who's the boss?"

Anyway, with Ron here, Ethan didn't worry about his safety at all, and he even had the leisure to get information from this man.

However, this short-haired man was not someone to get along with. He didn't answer directly when he heard the question. Instead, he punched Ethan hard in the abdomen first.

"Why should I tell you when you ask? Haha, I really want to see what you are capable of and how you can get such attention from the boss."

"What I'm saying is that this pretty boy's muscles look like those trained in the gym. They can't be compared with you at all. Otherwise, I'll help you open his handcuffs and let you give him some color to see, and also give it to my brother. Do you want to open your eyes?"

Ron said with a flattering look on his face, bending down and lowering his head in a dog-legged manner. The big men around him cheered after what he said, but the short-haired man was intimidated.

"Ahem... Is he worthy of competing with me?" The short-haired man coughed to cover up his embarrassment: "Since you are the torture master sent by the higher authorities, and the higher authorities want to get something from his mouth, then you can now Work has started, just in time for us to see what you can do."

"Of course, that's no problem." Ron agreed and opened the tool box. Various torture instruments were placed on the table, causing everyone to stretch their necks. Even the short-haired man looked like a bumpkin.

But in order to maintain the face of the boss here, he still put on a normal look: "So it's these things. I'm familiar with them. I'm very familiar with them. You know our agents sometimes do some torture. Wait a minute. We can talk more, which one do you want to start with?"