On the quality improvement of Omega agents

The idle display screen suddenly lit up, and Garcia's expression was serious: "Sir, Breakpoint [-] has returned to the dispatch office, do you want to see him?"

Bruce said lightly: "Tell him to wait for me in my office." His eyes swept across the screen lightly, behind Garcia was the orderly and busy scene of the Special Service, and there seemed to be nothing unusual.

"Understood." The female agent didn't hesitate at Bruce's order.She simply cut off the communication.

The female agent turned around, and she gave an order to several agents with a blank face: "Be sure to find Breakpoint No. [-]," she frowned, and added with some gritted teeth: "Use of force is not allowed. Electric shock The gun is included in the range. If you find him, notify me immediately."

Garcia's voice was full of icy scum, and a group of agents naturally didn't dare to say a word to the deputy next to the supreme officer, and they all took orders to leave.

Garcia took a deep breath.She felt that her ability to keep her cool had been honed again. ——Not everyone can maintain facial muscle twitching at a normal level after the security system has been breached and everyone is on the verge of an enemy and finds out that the intruder is one of their own who came back to "report".

Lan, De, Er!Garcia seemed to be able to chew that person's name in her mouth, but she didn't have the right to call that person's name directly, so she could only curse silently in her heart.

——If Breakpoint No. [-] has not reported to his office by the time the chief returns to the special task force, she can prepare a resignation report!

At this moment, Mr. Randall James is leisurely strolling through corridors with similar features. He looks here and there. The alarm was triggered, and everyone almost evacuated.

Well, he always likes a high-profile comeback.

Apparently Bruce wasn't in the task force, because now he still had time to wander the corridors instead of being tracked by a camera.

Randall paused in the hallway.The room looked like it was used for storage. The door was made of thick steel, with a huge iron bar across it, which was regarded as a door lock.And there is a fingerprint recognition machine next to it.Randall curled his fingers and tapped the wall twice.The walls are made of alloy, but the sound is a bit muffled.The smell in the air is familiar.

There was a sneer on his lips.Randall casually pressed his right index finger on the recognizer, and then heard a light "click" sound from the iron door that didn't look very high-end, and the seemingly difficult-to-turn handle unscrewed by itself .

The man pushed open the door and entered.

The smell in the air was not too strong, but it still stimulated Randall's nerves.The man let the heavy iron door slowly close behind him, making a heavy creaking sound.

This is a warehouse-like house with a high roof, without any lighting equipment, and even the temperature is lower than outside.Randall found himself in a huge space with no one around.

In the center of the room was a huge glass dome.

Or, to put it more figuratively, a transparent cage made entirely of high-strength tempered glass.

The man licked his lips unconsciously.

The glass cage was completely soundproof, so no sound could be heard, but every move of the people inside could be seen very clearly.

Some things cannot be hidden after all, such as nature, such as desire.And when these things are presented so clearly in front of your eyes, you have to realize your ugliness.

Randall narrowed his eyes slightly.

Inside the cage was Breakpoint No. [-], they didn't know each other, and they only met each other a few times at the training base, the kind who didn't even say hello when they passed by.After all, no one likes being reminded of their worst self.

Breakpoint No. 23 is only [-] or [-] years old this year, a little younger than Randall. His skin is very fair, almost glowing under the high-wattage incandescent lamp in the glass cage.Very dazzling.The young man had blue eyes like Randall's, but dark hair.The contrast between the two colors made him look a little more charming, and the arrival of the estrous period made this magic more difficult to stop.

The air is filled with the unique smell of estrus, omega, and alpha.Of course Breakpoint [-] was not the only one in the glass cage.Five burly men who were obviously also deeply in estrus took turns to put on an omega, panting and groaning were already separated by the glass, but the wave of obsessive emotion swept across like a wolf.

"Oh, oh...please...please...ah...deeper, deeper..."

Randall's lazy eyes flicked across the face of Breakpoint Four, and he didn't need to bother to read the words that were spit out by the man's lips opening and closing in a daze, which were fragmented due to the sudden violent and violent movements of the people behind him. .

Randall stood in the somewhat gloomy room, watching the silent drama in the central glass prison, looking familiar.He watched Breakpoint Four's blue eyes become dazed and hollow due to wave after wave of orgasm, physiological tears kept flowing from the corners of his eyes, and there was no expression on his face.

Who the hell said their eyes look alike?Maybe, Randall thought wildly, I should chop off the man's dick.

He seemed to be too engrossed in his thoughts, and didn't respond to the sound of the iron door opening and closing behind him and the approaching footsteps.

"Your vigilance disappoints me, Mr. James."

A voice sounded beside Randall.A low-pitched male voice, with a cold voice without any ups and downs.

Randall laughed softly.He turned his head to look at Bruce standing beside him: "Because I know it's you, sir."

Bruce didn't look at Randall, his eyes stayed behind the glass on those who had completely succumbed to their nature, and his voice was flat: "You shouldn't be here."

Randall twitched the corner of his mouth, he didn't seem to care: "I've stayed in it too, sir." The man's voice sounded interesting, "I was in it when I was in heat, sir, you know that's What's it like?"

Bruce turned to look at Randall.His agent's face was tired from the long journey, and his hair was a dull blond in the empty space.

There was a gleam in his eyes.

Bruce couldn't help raising his eyebrows.This man will never be defeated, will never give in, the light in his eyes has never been extinguished, like that kind of flickering flame, if one is not careful, it may burn into a raging flame.

Even if he is a beast, he has never been tamed.

Bruce said lightly: "You are just one of the participants in the experiment."

Randall shrugged, the almost dangerous expression just now disappeared from his face, almost like a hallucination.He smiled happily, looking indifferent.

"What day is it?" the blond agent asked.

"Day four." Bruce turned his head again, looking at the omega who was silently screaming and crazily asking for it in the glass prison.The torment was only just beginning.This is a living performance, showing how the long, unabated desire crushes a tough warrior in a month.

Breakpoint No. [-] is a silent and cautious person. There has never been a mistake in the completion of the task. For Bruce Stewart, he is just a group of many test data.But there can be no doubt that the creature out there devoid of dignity was once a strong and graceful man.

But he is an omega.What a pity.

Seeing Bruce's indifferent expression, Randall sneered boredly: "Sir, I regret coming back."

Bruce shot him a look of disapproval in his brown eyes, "I hope it's just a joke."

Randall snorted and said, "You know I can."

After the "Black Sand" was bombed, Bruce's headset to communicate with him was destroyed, and the wrist watch on his arm that sent back data every three days did not pose a threat.He can leave at any time, although he will face the hunt and kill of this huge spy agency all over the world.

The corners of Bruce's lips curled up, not looking like a smile, and he said, "I know." He paused and changed the subject. "Did you get the blueprint back?"

Randall smiled "haha" and said, "Sir, the blueprint in Heisha's hand is simply fake." He said, "What you want is not the blueprint, right?"

Randall looked at his reflection in the brown pupils of the man opposite.Bruce's stern expression didn't scare him off, the man thought complacently.

Bruce's expression was flat: "Go on."

Randall tilted his head and said: "Heisha sold the fake picture to the Russians, but maybe it was just following a certain instruction." He paused for a second and said: "I have never heard of the Ministry of National Defense. What about missile programs like A-11." The blond man's hint was clear.

Bruce didn't continue to ask, just said: "There are still many things you don't know, Mr. James." He didn't explain.

Randall narrowed his eyes slightly.This is not the first time he has been used as a gun. After all, he should be the best weapon to use.

Bruce looked at him blankly.He said: "Section I needs to be cleaned up." He said concisely, the forces in Section I are mixed, and Bruce can't tolerate the gradual loss of an organization that the CIA has held together.Retrieving the blueprint is just a cover, and Randall's "falling into the enemy's hands" provides a good excuse for the drone to bomb the organization.

Randall grinned.He's smart enough, otherwise he wouldn't have survived to this day-relative to the average life span of practitioners in his line of work.

Suddenly he asked, "May I ask what those two drones are for, sir?"

Bruce's eyes flashed.He looked at Randall's heartless smiling face, and suddenly said, "You are my agent."

Randall suddenly put away his smiling face.In the next second the blond agent leaned forward and kissed his officer on the lips.

A little dry and astringent, but surprisingly soft.

Bruce frowned for a moment.The agent's lips were warm to the touch, impossibly moist, with a hint of coolness, and a slight, scorching sand and sun scent.Maybe it was his smell.

The CIA's intelligence officer took a quick step back, pressing his right elbow precisely on the opponent's stomach, and he clearly heard Randall's breathing stagnate.

Randall was knocked a few steps away by this elbow, but there was no expression of pain on his face.

It's just lips touching, it's not even a kiss.Randall looked at Bruce who was standing three steps away. The man still had a calm expression on his face, but his eyes were frosty, and he stabbed straight at Randall like a blade.

Randall spread his hands calmly under Bruce's gaze: "Just to express my touch, sir."

Bruce looked at him coldly, and then said, "There will be no next time, agent."

Usually, the first person in charge of the dispatch office would call Randall by his first name. When he called him an "agent", it was an expression of anger.

Randall nodded with a smile.He didn't ask further, "next time" refers to his inappropriate interrogation method still appearing here, or, the kiss just now.

"Report to the infirmary."

Bruce's voice was cold and commanding, and he turned and left after speaking.

Randall raised an eyebrow, and then he smiled.

He was sure he liked the kiss just now, seeing his own shadow in the man's brown pupils, and for a moment he saw the flash of killing intent in Bruce's eyes, the danger that made all the blood in his body tingle Crying and boiling up.

It feels so good, kiss you, my sir.

The blond agent stood still for a few seconds, then walked away gracefully.The closed huge iron gate separated the glass cage and those intertwined bodies behind them.