On the quality improvement of Omega agents

Randall's fingers trembled a little. He opened the watch on his wrist, squeezed out two small white pills, and threw them into his mouth.Swallowing seemed to be difficult, the man swallowed his saliva with difficulty, he stumbled away from the bar, tripped a few times on the way, and finally found the sofa accurately and threw himself on it.In fact, it doesn't really help with headache relief.All the blond agent could do was to curl himself up into a ball as much as possible, allowing the muscles all over his body to convulse in the transitional tension, trembling and waiting for the effect of the medicine to take effect. The dilapidated sofa had been empty for a long time, and the man fell down There was almost a cloud of smoke-like dust.Randall was choked and coughed twice.He buried his face down into the sofa cushion, trying to drive away the needle-like pain in his brain with a suffocating squeeze.

The feeling of pain made the brain more active, and Randall frowned. He wanted to control himself from thinking about the old sesame seeds that had passed for a long time.However to no avail.

"Are you willing to be controlled by this so-called nature, boy."

……

"If you choose this path, there is no turning back."

……

"You will pledge your allegiance to this country."

……

Someone's voice whispered something in his ear, soft as a whisper, but Randall clearly heard the seriousness in it, as well as the familiar calm and indifference.

He heard his own voice, piercing in his brain.

"If I choose to follow you, will I be as strong as you, sir"

"Shit!" The man finally couldn't bear the scene that kept reminding him in his mind, he roared out in a low voice.

The setting sun shone in through the gaps in the curtains that hadn't been opened for a long time. The orange light was intense and dazzling, like an over-sharp sword, piercing into the dusty room.The man on the sofa curled up in a posture that didn't fit his tall figure, his sea blue eyes were full of tears, a speck of dust that was too bright.

Maybe it's the pain.Maybe.

CIA secret agent dispatch office.

Bruce's dark brown eyes scanned a report on the desk, and he frowned.

The dense data showed the fact that the consolidating agent in Breakpoint No. [-]'s blood was much higher than the normal level.

The surgery Breakpoint agents underwent attempted to alter their bodily functions by manipulating the nerves in their brains, squeezing and shortening their period to a certain month of the year.But such an operation is against human nature after all. In order to maintain the effect of the operation, the recipient must take the strengthening medicine on time to ensure that it will not be affected when the normal estrus comes every month.Similarly, agents who want to freely control the emission of their own hormones to perform tasks also need to take reinforcements to ensure that their nature suppressed by surgery will not burst out suddenly when disguising the smell of estrus.But any medicine has side effects.

Of course Bruce knows this.He looked at the report that contained Randall's physical data, and he felt a surge of anger in his heart.

Mr. James never really understood what obedience was.

Bruce picked up the intercom: "I need to activate and track the locating device in the Breakpoint No. [-] communicator, now."

Garcia's voice sounded a little surprised: "Sir, Breakpoint agent No. [-] just left, do I need to recall him?"

Bruce's voice was cold: "No. Find out where he is now."

Garcia flinched involuntarily.She had never heard Bruce Stewart's tone like that, even when news came back that their troops had invaded Iraq and found no nuclear weapons. "Understood, sir" she replied.

Two minutes later, Garcia felt like she was facing the worst crisis of her career.But our tough lady agent kept his voice quiet, saying "Breakpoint Three's tracker is unresponsive, sir."

Bruce hung up the phone directly.

Pain, and only pain.

Randall's fingers were dug deep into the soft sponge of the sofa, and he tried not to make the volume suppressed in his throat become embarrassing.Obviously, it is not a wise move to care about this now.He just felt like his head was about to split open, as if some crazy guy was holding an electric drill and trying to drill through his skull to see what the alcohol was hiding in his brain.

"Hmmm..." Randall tried to curl himself up a little tighter until he felt his ribs poking into his lungs.

...shit, why hasn't that medicine started working yet!The man cursed weakly in his heart, his mind was full of "buzzing" noises.

Randall tried his best to move his body. At this time, the extremely powerful Mr. Kingsman had to do some mental construction for himself even moving a finger, and then raised his wrist with a whimper.He opened the mysterious watch cover with trembling hands, and poured the small pills stored there into his mouth without looking at it.

"Dame!" Those overly small pills rolled out of the watch, almost scattered on the ground at a speed that the agent could not stop.Randall cursed in a murmur, he no longer had the strength to pick up those medicines-the only life-saving medicine that could relieve his symptoms at this time.The blond frowned in pain.He's been trained countless times, taught how not to show pain on his face, how to endure, deceive, and take advantage of.But after all, human beings have a limit to pain.

Randall blinked vigorously, his pupils seemed to be pressed close to the screen covered with snowflakes, the entire field of vision was filled with that annoying white light spot, the intensifying headache of bickering, the man finally closed his eyes weakly eyes.His hand dropped slowly.

The sun moved an inch slowly.The room was as quiet as if no one was there.

Perhaps more than a century later,—maybe longer, when Randall finally regained a little consciousness, he vaguely heard "not quite normal noises" coming from the front door. — meaning the place is no longer safe.

The blond man struggled to prop himself up with his arms, but fell back onto the sofa a second later.He snorted softly, gnashing his teeth, thinking that today he probably lost all the people he could lose in his life.As he thought about it, his mind was on the verge of shutting down.Randall had to clasp his fingers tightly into his palms, hoping to use that insignificant pain to deal with the chaos in his brain, but in fact, this pathetic self-mutilation did not mercifully exchange him for the slightest bit. wide awake.The blond-haired man tried his best. He took off a Crolo pinned to his back and quietly held it in the drawer. The man felt the weight of the weapon, and then quietly hid his arm under the under the chest.

"boom!"

There was a loud knocking sound, as if someone kicked open the door of Mr. Randall's house with incredible force.

Bruce Stewart was in a place his agents would never have expected him to be.

The dark-haired man strode over the "debris" that "stretched" on the ground, and his long trench coat created a weak draft of air in the silent room like stagnant water.Bruce Stewart's eyes paused for a second on the somewhat dull blond hair exposed on the dilapidated sofa.The man nestled himself on the narrow sofa in a strange posture, motionless, so quiet that he could not hear the sound of breathing.

Bruce's pupils shrank slightly, and then reached out to touch the back of the blond man's neck.

In the next second, as if the dead blond agent suddenly exploded, Lolock, who had been hiding under his body, was exposed, and the black muzzle pointed directly at the eyebrow of the visitor.

The distance between the two was not too close, and Randall almost bumped into Bruce when he exploded.

The older black-haired man was not slow to react. Instead of taking a step back, he leaned forward and raised Randall's gun-holding arm with one hand, while the other hand had already captured Randall like lightning. On the shoulder of the blond agent.

Randall pulled the trigger.

The sound of the bullet firing stimulated Randall's eardrums and fragile nerves, and he jerked violently.The blond man took a step forward.Bruce lets the bullet fly past his ear and into a piece of furniture behind him with a crisp sound.There was no expression on his face, he just supported Randall's crumbling body with all his strength. Randall accumulated all his strength and was quickly exhausted after this shot. The severe pain hit the man's brain again, and he only had time After identifying who the figure of the person printed on the pupil belonged to, he collapsed in the next second.

"Sir..."

The blond agent's voice was almost inaudible, but a slight rising end could be heard vaguely, as if with a smile.

Bruce caught Randall's body that had fallen forward.The agent is tall and has no support at this moment, and the weight of his whole body is heavily pressed on Bruce's body.Bruce frowned slightly.He could even smell Randall's very light, sweet and greasy smell unique to omega when he was in heat, mixed with the pungent smell of alcohol and dust, which still penetrated into his nostrils vaguely.Bruce tightened his arms to keep Randall from slipping out of his arms.

Brown eyes coldly glanced at the scattered white pills on the ground, and Bruce's expressionless face seemed to be covered with a layer of frost.He didn't stay any longer, and simply put his arms on his shoulders, put Randall on his shoulders, and strode out of the house.

The night is getting darker.

No one dared to raise any objection to the fact that the top chief of the special service disappeared from his job for two hours and returned with an unconscious blond man with a particularly scary face.Garcia wisely kept silent.

She had never seen Bruce express his emotions so directly on his face, and even now he just exudes an aura of "don't get close to strangers" expressionless.Coupled with a breakpoint agent who is almost omnipotent and has just resisted his life, Garcia deeply felt that today would be a long day.