On the quality improvement of Omega agents

January, Alaska.

The snow-covered valley is dead silent, the lake in the center is not completely frozen, and the scattered ice floats on the ice-blue water, and the temperature is below zero.

A snow sculpture stood on a rock by the lake, its tawny eyes vigilantly observing the surrounding movement. There was a sound of water, and someone suddenly emerged from the lake full of crushed ice, as if appearing out of thin air, breaking the silence in the valley, and the snow sculpture suddenly spread its wings and flew up.

The blue eyes watched the bird of prey rush to the sky, and gradually turned into a small gray-white dot in the line of blue sky sandwiched by the valley, and disappeared.

The man watched the snow sculpture fly away and seemed to have just remembered his situation.He began to slap the water, arms outstretched, and swam toward the shore.

It's so cold that it's almost freezing to breathe.

The man was naked, his skin was pale in the cold lake water, his lips were abnormally purple, but his movements were exceptionally standard. He moved towards a barracuda in the water quickly towards the lake shore, behind him Not even a splash.Apparently, he was a "Barracuda" that was fit and strong enough, at least he wasn't frozen in the ice like a specimen because of this temperature and couldn't move.

The man reached the shore of the lake half a minute later.

"Shit!" The man moved a lot slower when he got ashore, and the cold seemed to have finally started to take effect on him. He stumbled on the gravel by the lake, and only managed to stabilize his body after shaking twice.He cursed in a hoarse voice.The man leaned on his knees and panted for two seconds, then strode towards the shore, stepping on the sharp gravel with his bare feet.

He is completely naked, except for an ordinary sports watch on his right wrist. His naked body is perfect, showing the bodybuilding and strength of a man. The tight and slightly raised muscle lines indicate strength. The man's skin is relatively He was surprisingly fair for his build, which accentuated the large scar that ran from just below his chest to his waist.The scar was gray and white, and it seemed that it had been healed for a long time, but it was not difficult for people to imagine how bloody and terrifying it was at that time.Ice water trickled down his skin as the scar snaked in strange tracks.

Either he's a madman, or he's a fighter.

Or both.

There is a small leeward place by the lake, with protruding rock walls above and scattered boulders around, forming a natural barrier. In the narrow space is a pile of framed firewood and a huge camping rucksack. Throwing a ready-to-heat field lunch box next to it, nothing else.Obviously this is the man's temporary residence.

The man staggered around the boulder and returned to his "residence". He bent down and took out a lighter from the rucksack. The stacked firewood was set on fire. He tremblingly picked up an old blanket and draped it over his body. , and then slowly approached the fire.

The man tossed his head, the way some large dogs like to do, and cold beads of water flew from his blond hair, and he looked embarrassed.

But still handsome.

A man not only has a good figure, obviously, he also has a face that can charm many chicks.The razor-sharp facial lines are the unique firmness and handsomeness of men, and the sky blue eyes make him look a little softer. If you want, you can imagine him as a gentle, affectionate and powerful prince, while most girls All are willing.However, at this moment, except for the tight lips due to the cold, the man's face was expressionless.

The warmth of the fire finally relieved him from his unnatural stiffness and trembling. The man threw away the blanket. He glanced at the watch on his wrist, entered a few numbers there, and then began to dress.

The sky gradually dimmed, and the fire in the "refuge" gradually flickered and faded.In the distance came the howling of a large animal.The man sat by the fire, enjoying the last moments of warmth before letting the flames go out.He spread out his pitifully thin sleeping bag and got in, leaving only his head with blond hair exposed, resting on a flat rock.

Night in Alaska is about to fall.

United States, Langley. CIA secret agent dispatch office.

"All personnel data has been collected."

"Start analyzing."

No one can see the mystery hidden in this dilapidated and abandoned factory building.The chained door was tightly closed, and behind a long passageway was made of fine steel, the real main door.

The over-high dome can still see the traces of the factory. In fact, this workshop, which was used to produce lathes, has become the secret laboratory of the most secret spy and intelligence agency in the United States.The fluorescent light from computer screens and precision instruments was projected onto the faces of several people standing on the stairs on the second floor, appearing unpredictable.

"What's the current situation of Agent James?"

The person who asked the question was wearing a black woolen coat, tall and thin.There was no expression on his face, only his dark brown eyes reflected a huge main screen not far away.

The heads of five people are listed on a huge projection, with numbers and code names below.

The third was the only blond inside, with sky blue eyes, a fine line at the corners that made him look like he was smiling, and his lips were drawn tight.

Below is the name.

Randall James.

Someone replied in a low voice: "The extreme cold training on the [-]rd is going on normally, and the body data has been sent back."

The man who asked the question gave a "hmm", he glanced at the faces on the big screen again, and said, "Let all 'Breakpoint' agents speed up the progress of their projects, and conduct a routine evaluation in half a month. In addition, Rand Earl James will be at Headquarters in three days and accept the mission."

The other party froze for a moment, quickly covered up, and responded, "Yes, sir."

The man in the black coat strode away.

The truth is that Randall hated winter, and he hated fucking cold training even more.

He has always been intolerant to cold, and this problem has become more serious after the operation. The sub-zero temperature almost makes him feel that his blood has been frozen.

But "hate" is not his task.He is an agent, and he has to do what his superiors order him to do.

Alaska in the deep winter is not a season suitable for "survival in the wild". "Maybe an omega shouldn't be treated like this." Randall muttered.He blinked his blue eyes, and then smiled a little frivolously at the mirror-like lake.The man has a handsome face, but when he smiles like this, he is inexplicably charming.

Yes, Agent Randall is an omega, even if it doesn't look obvious at all.Even though he looks like a primitive man drinking blood now, he still can't hide his omega nature.He has a slender body and limbs, covered in muscles from exercise and battle, yet still beautiful.He knew that the smell on him could make a dozen alphas unable to take their eyes off it.

Randall never minded admitting he was an omega.When a person is endowed with a certain nature, you cannot resist it.You just have to accept it, smarter people, they use their instincts.

What an omega agent can do is unimaginable to ordinary people.Randall is content with his job.

Randall took a deep breath, and then plunged down.

—Eating lunch these days requires risking your life.That's what the man thought as he emerged from the frozen lake to breathe heavily.Holding a pick of slippery black fish in his hand, he swam towards the shore.

Unseasoned grilled fish isn't tasty, especially after you've been eating it for a month.Randall shuddered as he swallowed the last bite of the fish that made his stomach queasy.He raises his arms.

The man had a plain sports watch on his right wrist. He pressed a button on the dial, the waterproof plastic case popped open, and he poured out two white pills from where the movement should have been.Randall frowned, then swung his neck and swallowed them.

At a distance of 200 meters, Randall paused slightly.He could already hear the helicopter's oars.The man quickened his pace, and he quickly walked around the boulders under the cliff to hide himself.

The helicopter hovered over the shore of the lake, and the snow on the ground was blown wildly.

"Call breakpoint three, call breakpoint three, this is Eagle, the headquarters ordered you to return to the base and accept the dispatch."

Randall snorted: "A bunch of idiots."

He grabbed the huge rucksack and jumped out from behind the rock.

The roar of the plane landing finally made the man stretch and sit upright, and the way he just woke up made him look harmless.The muscles hidden under the bulging down jacket stretched out with the movement, Randall exhaled lightly, narrowed his eyes, and looked around lazily.

There were people coming and going in the terminal building, and the blond man stood at the pick-up area and looked around, his face seemed to be a little stumped and bewildered after a long-distance flight.

"Breakpoint number three?"

A black suit came over with a polite tone.

Randall raised his eyebrows and looked at him, how arrogant he looked.

The black suit was expressionless, obviously taking Randall's reaction as authentication.He stretched out his hand in a "please" gesture: "The car that picks you up is right outside, come with me."

Randall grinned and bared his teeth, "Since the CIA likes to play the British way." He followed the black suit out of the terminal, and there was a black Land Rover parked outside.The man made a dramatic turn in his voice: "Should I still wear a blindfold or something?"

The black suit didn't interfere, but just opened the car door for him.Randall was also happy to talk to himself and sat in the car with a smile.

The black car starts silently.

The two 10-minute drive took nearly half an hour.Randall smiled and drew a bend in his palm with his finger, No. 17 times.

The black Land Rover finally sailed to its final destination.The black fence door slammed open, and the special forces with live ammunition on both sides stared at the driver expressionlessly for a few seconds before turning away. Randall, who was sitting in the back seat, rolled his eyes.

he is here.Randall didn't even bother to ask.

This is not the CIA headquarters in Langley.There are no buildings, no politicians and senior military officers coming and going, just soldiers, secret agents, and a bunch of techies who know how to keep silent.The scientific name is the CIA Secret Agent Operations Deployment Office.

Under normal circumstances, an agent who comes back to report will not have such "treatment", and this place does not deserve to be guarded by a group of deltas (Note: US Army Special Forces). can smell.

Secret agents don't need protection, only certain "big shots" do.

The car stopped in front of a factory building.Randall jumped out of the back seat, still carrying his huge rucksack, looking like a backpacker who strayed into the restricted area.

The black suit walked around the front of the car and walked towards him, "Breakpoint No. [-], please disarm your weapon."

Randall nodded with a smile: "I understand, I understand." He handed over the pistol that was pinned to the waist of his jeans like a gangster on the streets of Brooklyn to the black suit.Seeing that the other party didn't leave, he bent down and took out the dagger from the boot and threw it to the other party, shrugging his shoulders: "Can I go in?"

Still, the buzzer screamed as the blond man tried to get through the security checkpoint.

"Hey, hey, take it easy, guys."

Randall grinned, and he raised his hands to stay in place, surrounded by four guards pointing assault rifles at him, with nothing but mechanical coldness and vigilance in their eyes.

One of the leaders said: "Please disarm, sir."

Randall stretched his legs towards the security gate: "It's just a small iron nail in the heel, don't be so sensitive."

The man was wearing baggy jeans, but this action still showed his straight and slender legs.

The soldier watched for half a second inexplicably.He reacted the next moment and looked up at Randall.

Randall still didn't seem to notice it, he took a step towards the soldier: "Put the gun down, I still have something to do, soldier." A little bit of commanding tone came out of the man's lips, but there was a certain kind of feeling for no reason. The meaning of charm.

"You...you are..."

Randall gave a particularly bright smile: "Yes, I am." He calmly stepped through the security gate, letting the machine frantically flash the alarm light and scream, stretched out a finger, and carelessly pointed the soldier He raised the muzzle of his gun, said something softly to the side of his face, and then walked away with the corners of his lips curved as if he felt amused.The soldier stared blankly at the blond man walking in with his long legs, and didn't even think of blushing for the meaningful words just now.

"Take care of your gun, soldier, you won't think I've scrapped it."