On the quality improvement of Omega agents

Bruce watched as the blond agent used his combat knife to flatten crooked wooden sticks he had found somewhere to make a pair of splints.

"I'm sorry you can only fix your hand like this first." Randall muttered, helping Bruce fix his broken right forearm. "Did you push me when you jumped down," he muttered, "Your arm was hit by that metal bar, shouldn't I be glad that thing didn't fly at explosive speed and knock me off?" head or cut off your hand,"

Bruce twitched the corners of his lips, "I didn't know you had a problem with talking, James."

Randall looked up at him, blinked his blue eyes, and then obediently closed his chattering mouth in his own official's serious expression.

The two people quickly evacuated from the crash site after simply treating the wounds on their bodies—since someone shot down the helicopter, they must come to find the wreckage.After walking a long distance, the blond agent looked at Bruce's face, and then spoke again, this time with a shorter sentence.

"Thank you then, sir."

Bruce squinted his eyes and looked at the road ahead, and nodded slightly to the agent's words to show that he heard them.The sunlight in the desert area was so strong that it seemed to evaporate all the moisture on the body. Bruce's watch had survived the explosion and fall just now, and the hands were still clicking and clicking dutifully.It's [-]:[-] in the afternoon—it's the hottest time.

Randall stood beside him, his voice still very soft: "Sir, there should be a small village in the north."

Bruce turned to look at him, and the blond agent spread his hands innocently, saying, "I just glanced at the nav map before I fell." His officer gave him a look that could be called approving.

"Oh, you remind me of when I was trained a few years ago." Randall muttered in a low voice.He laughed again: "Actually, I miss that time very much, sir."

Bruce said lightly: "If you want us to reach the village two kilometers away, I suggest you save your energy and recall the past." The black-haired man glanced at Randall's waist, and the traces of wetness on the camouflage sweatshirt slowly faded away. to expand. "I don't think you can convince me that fluid is your sweat."

Randall was taken aback for a moment, he looked down, grinned dryly twice: "Probably." Then he closed his mouth.

The sun is shining.

The blond agent walked a little ahead. He was wearing some clumsy military boots, and he stepped on the ground without making a sound. He held a saber in his right hand, and sweat dripped from the man's temples, shining brightly.Bruce walked behind him, and he watched his agent just walk ahead, showing his back. The CIA's senior intelligence officer slid the trigger with his left forefinger and slipped the gun into his belt.He slowly passed Randall, "I'll lead the way." The man paused, "watchmyback."

Landleton took a step, he laughed silently, and moved his lips: "yes, sir." He shook his head, as if he could get rid of the dizziness that was bothering him due to blood loss, and was blindfolded. The layer of gray hair was a little dull under the sun, but the blue eyes were as bright as ever.

Bruce Stewart said to him, "Watch my back".

He said it, and he did it.

The village was already far away, and Randall felt that his lungs were about to be ripped out when he heard the sound of his panting.He narrowed his eyes to look at Bruce in front of him.

"We can't enter the village. There are abandoned houses on the west side. We can rest there first." Bruce stopped and said to Randall.

The blond agent seemed to have been dazed by the too strong sunlight, he looked up at his officer for two seconds, and then stopped his pace half a beat.People have almost hit Bruce's body. "Oh, sorry, sir." He muttered.

The smell of blood couldn't be concealed, and Bruce frowned.He looked at Randall. The blond man's face was a little pale, but his eyes were full of consciousness. His blue pupils looked at Bruce curiously: "What did you just say, sir?"

Bruce looked at him for a few seconds, then said, "I said you need to rest."

Randall smiled, shrugged his shoulders slightly, and said, "I think so too, sir." He said, motioning for Bruce to move on. "But I'm your bodyguard now. I have to make sure you're safe."

Bruce stepped forward, he walked a few meters, and suddenly said to Randall who was following him: "If you want to talk, I'm listening."

The blond agent blinked his eyes strangely, "Oh, okay." He laughed happily, although it sounded hoarse like the cry of some ominous bird: "I will stay awake, sir, you don't have to Worry."

Bruce was expressionless: "Then speed up. I need to contact CIA's intelligence branch in District I."

There was no one outside the village, maybe because of the hot weather, maybe because of the war.This provides some convenience for the two of them.On the west side of the village is an abandoned earthen house. It is not difficult to see that it has been bombed among the ruins. Maybe it came from a drone or a homemade earth bomb. Fortunately, there is another one with a roof, which can barely be called for the house.

Pushing open the crumbling wooden door, Randall sniffed. The dusty smell inside reminded him of the broom closet of the special mission.Bruce turned to look at him, and the dark-haired man looked serious: "I need you here alone, Randall."

Randall tilted his head: "Yeah." He squinted at Bruce and smiled, "I won't ask you what to do, sir, I will do what you say."

Bruce stared at the blond agent for two seconds.His ace agent is obedient like a child at this time, and Bruce knows he shouldn't doubt him at this time.He trusted Randall because he was his best agent, he knew how he became who he was, and he knew Randall would not betray easily.Bruce knows that Randall also trusts him, because he is his officer, because he still has value to himself, because of the inexplicable emotions at that point.

They have walked too long together, thinking that this kind of habitual companionship counts as understanding.

But in fact these are not enough, at least, for the theme of life and death, it is ridiculously thin.

But Bruce didn't hesitate.He handed the pistol at his waist to Randall: "Hold the gun, if there is any movement, fire the gun."

The blond agent held the pistol in his hand and weighed it, "I know." He watched Bruce turn around, and suddenly said, "Hey, sir,"

The dark-haired man turned around at the door of the dilapidated earthen house, looking at him questioningly with brown eyes.

"I haven't finished what I said on the plane just now." The blond agent said lightly, "I'm better than them because I won't die." He winked at Bruce.

"I won't die, sir."

Bruce was silent for a moment, then turned to leave.

The sun's rays came in beams from the broken windows of the earthen house.The blond-haired man smiled. He staggered back a few steps, retracted himself into a shady corner without the sun, and slowly slid down against the uneven wall, holding the handbag that Bruce gave him. pistol.

Then close your eyes.