On the quality improvement of Omega agents

"Go! Go!"

"I was shot! I was shot!"

"Someone's down! Someone's down! Call the ambulance crew! Keep going!"

Roaring and gunshots mingled together, Randall saw the rookie who asked for a demonstration on the shooting range not long ago fell on the dilapidated floor through the goggles with thermal imaging function. The thermal imaging showed that he was bleeding .He raised his gun and fired at the opposite side. A few bullets hit the wooden door frame. There was a chaotic sound of ping-pong-pong, and debris flew across. The enemy holding an automatic rifle fell down.

The man made a gesture neatly, and the team moved forward carefully and quickly according to the tactical formation.Several middle-eastern men with headscarves fell down at the entrance, and the gunfire had stopped.

Randall lowered his gun slightly, and he walked into the back room, which was simply furnished, with a one-person-high safe standing in the corner.Randall walked over, and several people behind him remained vigilant.The man took out a piece of plastic dynamite from his leg pocket—oh, don’t ask what kind of weirdo would put such a thing close to his body, pasted it on the seemingly incomparably strong safe, and waved his hand to signal the room. The people inside cleared the field and lit the short lead on it.

"--boom!"

A burst of thick smoke dispersed, the smell of gunpowder filled the entire room, and the fog covered the glasses. Randall pushed up the goggles with some dissatisfaction, and strode into the crackling and burning room. Amanda next to him seemed to want to dissuade , but finally held back and did not speak.

The huge safe had been blown up beyond recognition by inferior explosives, and the door had disappeared, leaving only the hideous shell deformed by the high temperature.Randall roughly scratched the ashes of some documents inside, and then took out a small box from it.There was also a lock on the box, and the blond man didn't even want to put down the rifle in his hand, draw out the pistol, and aimed a bullet at the lock.Inside the box were five small flannel bags. Randall weighed them in his hand and smiled, "I think we've got the things." He gestured, and several people withdrew in an orderly manner.

There were nine people in the team, one died and one was slightly injured.Randall waved his hand and said, "Rest where you are." He put on the earphones that had been thrown into his leg pocket with the C[-] explosives at the beginning of the mission, and said, "The mission is complete, I will bring you back. ..." The blond man looked around, obviously counting temporarily, "Seven, it's a pity that one died."

I don't know what to say over there, Randall smiled and took off the earphones.

Amanda blinked and asked, "Sir, Agent David..."

Randall squinted at her, "As you can see." He couldn't even tell who "David" was, but it was obviously the corpse that fell at the door of the living room and was bypassed by a whole team.

—You said it was just a routine test.Amanda swallowed the words that came to her lips - the man also said "I can't guarantee that each of you will pass it".It's just that she didn't think at the time that failure meant death.

The remaining six team members were either standing or sitting. After sunset, the desert area began to become cold, the weather was clear, and the stars were surprisingly bright, but no one was in the mood to appreciate the scenery.This is the last regular test for the rookies in the task force, which is personally selected and led by their training officer Randall James.But the new agent elites did not expect that this "test" was a real battlefield, almost equivalent to a medium-intensity raid.

"Why?!" A young black-haired guy rushed to Randall, his eyes were full of anger.

The blond man smiled: "You shouldn't ask too many questions, rookie."

The young agent yelled out loudly: "David is dead! He is dead!" He paused for a second because of the words he yelled, as if he was still digesting the fact that the companions they trained and lived with just passed in a blink of an eye. Killed by a bullet. "You didn't even tell us it was going to be a real field mission! We weren't prepared! Also, we're agents, not fucking Special Forces, not playing desert raid games with you!" His voice was sharp. Big, as if wanting to vent all the anger and confusion in my heart.The rookies around looked at Randall in unison.

Randall raised his eyebrows, and said, "Don't want waste in the special task force. If you can't even do the work of the special forces, believe me, there will be no other ending." The young agent said: "You're just freaking out, boy, take a breath and celebrate that you're still alive." The blond agent even put his hand on the other's back and patted him reassuringly.

A person dressed like a logistics officer ran towards this side: "Agent, please hand it over."

Randall looked at the advanced safe in the man's hand and raised an eyebrow.

Looking at the blond man's expression, the other party was obviously a little apprehensive, and quickly added, "This is sir's order."

Randall twitched the corner of his mouth, and he showed an undisguised, somewhat disgusted expression. "Oh, I don't mean anything else, I just don't like your accent." He said bluntly.Randall naturally knew who the "sir" was in the other party's mouth, but it still sounded a little weird.Under normal circumstances, Bruce would not bother with this level of action, even if a large group of rookies were crowded on the edge of a cliff. The instructions given by "sir" are probably only aimed at him.

The blond man reached into his pocket, took out a few small bags made of velvet cloth, the ones he found from the safe just now, and threw them into the hands of the field worker.The other party carefully counted them and locked them into a new safe.

Amanda restrained herself from thinking about their teammate, who was still bleeding in the front hall, and she looked at Randall in front of her.She saw the blond agent hand over four small bags, and they looked quite heavy.four.Amanda forced herself to recall the previous scene and blinked.She knew that another necessary quality of an agent was knowing how to keep silent, pretending that she didn't see anything.

The blond man even took off his helmet at some point, his blond hair was a bit dim in the night, but still eye-catching.Randall was wearing a standard combat uniform, and the body armor on his upper body did not make the man look bloated, on the contrary he showed a tough temperament. Of course, for Randall, perhaps the most obvious temperament on his body is that no matter where he goes Everywhere is the kind of leisure and wildness.

The blond man turned around suddenly, and he smiled at Amanda: "Do you think I'm handsome, rookie?"

Amanda was at a loss for words, she paused for two seconds and said, "Sir, now is not a good time to joke."

Randall shrugged: "I'm just giving you a chance to speak up." He smirked and winked at the young female agent.

Amanda compromised: "Well, you are handsome, sir, to be honest."

Randall smiled happily.He watched the follow-up medical team carry out the wounded and dead bodies from the house, and said carelessly outside the room where the smell of gunpowder had not dissipated: "Do you know why?" He leaned closer to Amanda's ear, "Because I Not following the rules."

Amanda froze for a second, then laughed.There was the sound of helicopter oars in the distance.Randall glanced at the few newcomers behind him, and said, "Our plane is here. Before you move your buttocks and return to the special task force, I have to say, congratulations." The blond man raised his head slightly. Volume, "The ones that are still standing here, you can officially join the Special Task Force. Starting tomorrow, work hard so that you are still panting every night, rookies."

After long and arduous training and torture, after the first real battle of blood and fire in their lives, they were finally allowed to become members of the special service.A silent joy pervades the newcomers, even though they look tired, distraught, freshly bereaved, and shaken from the adrenaline wear off.

And Amanda was in no mood to jump for joy.She listened to the "congratulations" and "welcome" words from the blond man, and saw the casual smile on his face.Her comrades are probably used to the weirdness of this trainer, but Amanda knows that that person really doesn't care about them, he doesn't care about the life and death of these "rookies", and this blond who didn't even disclose his name to them The smile on the agent's face carried a kind of frightening ridicule and coldness.And she also knew that as soon as Randall approached her, he knew that she saw it.

Amanda clenched her fingers secretly.The man knew that he saw his behavior, but he didn't threaten her.The female agent looked at the back of the person in front of her and held her breath involuntarily.The man was powerful and dangerous, and equally alluring.This kind of person is a beta, what a bizarre thing, the young female agent knew that she should keep a distance from that person, but inexplicably felt different feelings in her heart.

It was already three o'clock at night when their team returned to the CIA Special Dispatch Office.Randall wasn't tired, he was in high spirits, maybe it was his first field mission in a month of being locked up in that damn place in the Special Service, maybe it was just getting some yellow sand on his boots .He doesn't care who's dead, who's scheming, or who's got a headache.He was simply happy for the scattered bullet casings and kicked door panels just now.

He's not crazy, he just found a normal way to relieve those violent tendencies, and maybe he can get a medal for "serving the country", Randall thought happily.He's chasing that powerful, free-wheeling ecstasy the way Bruce Stewart was chasing control and power.They are not people who give up easily, and of course, they are not kind.

Some people have ferocious beasts in their hearts, and they need to unleash their flesh-eating bloodthirsty from time to time in order to gain peace.