On the quality improvement of Omega agents

"Okay, his identity has been verified by the headquarters, let him in." A cold female voice.The delta soldier came back to his senses suddenly, his face turned red and then black, and finally put down his gun resentfully.

"What are you looking at?!" The woman turned to the staff next to her, who immediately dispersed.The huge and sophisticated spy agencies are running in an orderly manner.

Standing on the side, Randall smiled slightly as he looked at the huge workshop.A computer screen closest to him showed a fierce street battle, as several men in plain clothes and guerrillas chasing them scattered countless shell casings on the ground.I don't know if it's Iraq or Kuwait.

The woman walked over quickly, and happened to be between his line of sight and the screen when she stood still.Randall smiled boredly, then raised his eyebrows and looked at each other: "Is there anything I can do for you, dear lady?"

The woman was wearing a camouflage military uniform, and she looked very capable. The cold expression on her face made her look more respectable than cute.

Garcia cursed secretly.She knew that she had to deal with all kinds of dangerous people when staying with the chief, but it was obvious that an omega agent was beyond Garcia's imagination.One minute and 40 seconds had passed since she saw "Breakpoint No. [-]", and she knew that the danger of this person was not at a level she could bear.She sees the shadow of a wolf in this man who is only allowed to be called by his code name, even as he pokes here with a smile and sends winks to everyone who passes by.

Dangerous, bloodthirsty, and untamable.

The woman squeezed her fingers, and put her voice to the coldest: "Put down your hormones, agent, you should find out that I'm a beta."

Randall smirked: "Oh, it's rare."

He cut to the chase: "What about him?"

Garcia looked at the man's expression, and her heart trembled inexplicably.She said in a deep voice, "Sir, I have other business."

Randall laughed: "Does he have more important affairs than me?"

He slowly moved closer to Garcia, and whispered in her ear: "Let him come to see me."

A powerful aura rushed towards her face, and Garcia straightened her body calmly.

"Turn right 200 meters ahead of you, the infirmary." The female soldier said calmly, "Go for a physical examination, agent."

Randall's eyes made Garcia feel like a rabbit stared at by a falcon, and the fact that the other party was an omega did not give her any comfort.And in the next second Randall suddenly showed a bright smile.He took a step back, a safe distance.Garcia secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

Randall glanced lazily over the tiny flesh-colored receiver in Garcia's ear, and his smile looked a little weird: "Yes, sir."

The man turned and walked towards the corridor not far away.

Garcia stood stiffly for two seconds. A passing technician glanced at her and hurried away.She knew she looked dignified and dignified now, as if she had the strength to survive the agent's influence.

The female soldier turned around slowly and walked upstairs to the office, and then realized that her palms were already covered with cold sweat.

"Sir, Breakpoint Agent No. [-] has reported to the infirmary."

The woman whispered into the headset.

"Make a fist, Agent."

Randall grinned slightly as he watched the needle go into his vein.A large row of test tubes was placed on the test bench not far away, and it was obvious that they were all blood to be tested.

The blond man watched as the shiny needle was pulled out from the crook of his arm, and the blood sloshed in the syringe, dark red in color.He smiled to himself, and suddenly said: "Is it interesting?"

The doctor in the white coat showed no expression, "Excuse me, agent?"

Randall still breathed a sigh of relief, he put down his rolled up sleeves, and the bulging muscles on his arms disappeared. "Blood samples and so on, you took blood from the agents, and other tests, right?" He tilted his head and asked, "From my blood, what do you see?" Curious tone , completely harmless.

The doctor's eyes flickered: "Yes." He turned to place the syringe containing Randall's blood, his shoulders tensed.Under the man's gaze, he felt that he was undergoing an interrogation, and the interrogator was a madman who liked to play with captives and torture enemies and took pleasure in it.

Relaxing people, or putting people on pins and needles in a "relaxed" atmosphere, is clearly the domain of the agent who is disgruntled by a blood test.

Randall shrugged his shoulders at the young doctor's obvious nervousness. He jumped off the workbench like a curious baby and began to visit the small infirmary.The doctor was fiddling with something next to the test bench, and didn't care to watch Randall's movements.

The man opened the glass cabinet door a little, then took a small plastic bottle from a pile of bottles and jars, and threw it into the pocket of his jacket.He winked at his own face on the glass and smiled mischievously.

"Are the tests done, doctor?"

The man's voice sounded lazily behind him, and the white coat seemed to stiffen slightly. He turned around and faced Randall: "You can go."

Randall grinned: "Thank you again, you didn't hurt me, it's much better than the last time." He gave the poor doctor a "bright future" expression of approval.

The man walked towards the door of the infirmary.He moves leisurely, but walks very fast, the style of an agent.Then he turned around at the door and said with a smile: "Also, doctor, the anesthesia gun they issued actually doesn't work for people like us." He pouted into the doctor's pocket, "You can try it next time." Electric shocks, maybe that would work, I guess."

The doctor stared wide-eyed as the blond man walked away in satisfaction.He threw the pocket anesthesia gun in his trouser pocket into the open drawer, and let out a breath of relief.

Garcia was already waiting outside the infirmary.She watched the agent approach with a bright smile on his face, expressionless.

"Sir wants to see you."

The woman dropped this sentence and walked forward, Randall followed behind.

The size of this building was beyond imagination. Randall walked all the way and looked around. There was no one else in the corridor, only listening to the sound of Garcia's boots on the tiles.Randall is fascinated by rooms and hallways that look identical, despite their blandness, like a sci-fi nightmare that repeats itself endlessly.

Garcia finally stopped.

"Sir, he's here."

And the agent opened the door and entered without waiting for Garcia's words to fall.

"I thought you didn't intend to see me, sir."

"In fact, it is." The man's voice was flat.

Randall laughed softly.He looked at his officer sitting behind his desk.The other party was an older man with black hair, neat sideburns, and no emotion in the tea-brown eyes.His nose bridge is high, slightly aquiline, and thin straight lips, showing a stern look.The pale face made the man's eyes and hair more vivid.

Randall blinked his blue eyes, "Sir, you should go out and bask in the sun."

The man called "Sir" ignored the agent's almost wanton teasing, he just looked up at Randall.

The blond agent finally felt a little uncomfortable in the man's expressionless but powerful gaze. He touched his nose and said, "Maybe I should knock on the door before coming in?"

His officer said indifferently: "You can remember this next time." The man put down the pen in his hand and pointed at his fingertips. "I'm assuming a Breakpoint agent should know where to go to accept his mission?"

Randall grinned: "Sir, I prefer the virtual image to the real person." He shrugged his shoulders: "Perhaps seeing you sitting here alive makes your poor agent feel more at ease , though you're as pale as a vampire." He glanced at the other's hand on the table, the steeple gesture making his superior's fingers look long, and Randall guessed those knuckles were more than just pretty.

He continued: "What's more, I like your smell, sir." The blond agent winked at his superior fearlessly.

The older man paused for a moment on the agent's face, warning plainly.Then he said: "In District I, one of our weapons experts was killed, and he had a blueprint in his hand. The Bureau needs to retrieve it."

"Understood." Randall said.He watched his chief lower his head to look at the report on the table again, and curled his lips a little bored.

Sensing that his agent had no intention of leaving, the man behind the desk asked, "Any more questions, Mr. James?"

Randall tilted his head thoughtfully: "Yes."

The older man raised his head again, and Randall saw the brown eyes scanning him flatly but sharply, as if evaluating his actions: "Okay."

Randall's eyes flashed. "Like me, I mean, the agents of Project Breakpoint, how many are left?"

His chief was expressionless: "This is beyond the scope of what you can know, Mr. James."

Randall smiled unexpectedly. "There are no other questions, sir." He added: "Another thing, sir, maybe Alaska isn't cold enough." After finishing speaking, the agent walked away neatly.

His officer moved his lips behind him, and the flat curve didn't look like a smile.

Bruce Stewart watched Project Breakpoint's third agent leave his makeshift office.The eyes of the current Chief Intelligence Staff Officer of the CIA and the planner of the Breakpoint Project were dim for a moment.He picked up the internal phone: "Send all the monitoring data of Breakpoint [-] to me, immediately."

A passenger plane bound for country I.

The blond man took a gulp of orange juice, squinting his eyes in satisfaction with the straw in his mouth.

The beautiful stewardess came over pushing the cart. "Sir, want to see a movie? There are three hours until landing."

"Do you have any recommendations?"

The stewardess smiled professionally at the blond man: "I recommend this movie, sir." She pulled out a box of discs from the cart and handed it to Randall.

Randall stuffed the disc into the player on the armrest of the seat without looking at it, and then grinned at the stewardess: "Thank you."

The man presses the play button.

"Agent Randall, the following is your mission this time..."

Randall looked idly at the image that followed a flash of snowflakes on the screen.His chief, Bruce Stewart, was sitting behind his large mahogany desk with his usual jerk look on his face—cold, with a slightly cringe-worthy sternness.

"After entering Zone I, all your actions have nothing to do with your country. If anything happens, please handle it yourself."

Randall squinted his eyes and fell asleep like he was really watching a boring movie.

This can be regarded as the rule of the secret agent dispatching office. All secret service personnel are dispatched on the way to the mission area.Most of them are audio files, and the treatment of "Breakpoints" is a bit special. Given that the missions they perform are at a higher level of confidentiality, there is usually video data of the assignee for confirmation.

"There are still some things I want to remind you, agent." The man in the video tape said flatly: "Stop teasing the doctor at the dispatch office."

"You are indeed my most important 'business' at the moment. I hope you can complete your tasks instead of fantasizing about other things in your brain." He said: "Your body data is too active at certain times."

Randall smiled.His officer's tone reminded him of the air on a winter morning, with its smell of oak in the park, or the cooling ashes of an Alaskan campfire after it had died.Randall loved the fantasy, it made boring tasks a little more fun.Apparently, his superiors shouldn't like being the subject of his visions.

Randall licked his lower lip as he watched his superior put his fingertips together in the videotape habit.

So fucking sexy.

He thought a little regretfully that when Stewart asked him if he had any more questions, he shouldn't have asked that goddamn stupid question about "breakpoints," and Randall bet he'd put his officer on his heels. Immediately after he left, the Enslavement Technology Department thoroughly investigated his every move these days.

He should have just asked, "Can we have a shot, sir?"