The world of American TV series: Starting with the L.A. Patrol.

Chapter 1213 "Helper" +1

Although sound insulation is done, the rumbling diesel generator is still very noisy. The air quality downstairs is not very good either. In addition to the smell of diesel, there is also an indescribable smell.

Glancing in the direction of the bathroom, Jack tried not to dwell on the cause of the smell and could only ask, "So you've been living underground all this time?"

"That's a really good question." Marvin took off the hat that was made into a bird's nest and put away the pulley crossbow. "Of course not, but last year a helicopter flew over my house, and I felt that someone was watching me, like a poisonous snake hiding in the dark."

Frank sighed, took out the note from his pocket helplessly and handed it to him.

"I have a list here that was written by a New York Times reporter, but she is dead, and most of the people on the list are also dead."

Marvin took the list and just glanced at it, and a blush of excitement appeared on his unshaven, wrinkled old face.

"Frank, do you remember how many times I've told you not to trust the system? I told you that countless times when we were still in it.

We are just little ants. If they press their fingers, you're done.

They have people, satellites, cell phones, chips, the internet, dentists."

Seeing him chattering as if a switch had been triggered, Frank felt overwhelmed and had to interrupt him loudly, "Marvin! Help us check this list, thanks, man."

After a moment of stunned silence, Marvin, who seemed to have suddenly crashed, seemed to have just restarted and nodded abruptly, "Okay, but this may take some time."

After saying that, he turned and walked towards a large iron door painted red, the kind with a rotary lock that is commonly seen in bank vaults.

With a metallic click, the iron door, which was at least thirty or forty centimeters thick, was opened, revealing a wall of bookshelves filled with various file boxes and cartons.

"So, he was really your former partner?" Jack asked in a low voice.

"I guess so." Frank was a little confused. "He always believed that he was the product of the government's secret mind control experiment, until one day we found out that he had been taking psychedelic drugs for eleven years. It's incredible, isn't it?"

"Well, he's in pretty good shape now."

Jack had also seen some "anthropomorphism" in his previous life, such as believing that mobile phone radiation would cause tumors, that peanut oil would solidify because of additives, and that cherries were soaked in "preservatives" so they would be so fresh after long-distance sea transportation.

And those stupid women who thought that foreign countries were as safe as at home and went traveling alone to Southeast Asian countries and eventually disappeared.

In contrast, as a CIA agent, Marvin's paranoia seems to be a good thing, after all, some things really happened in this country.

Besides, Jack thought that this old guy was much better than those "anthropomorphic beings", as he could live alone in the Florida swamps and still be alive and well, and build such a large underground shelter.

While Marvin was looking up information, Jack crossed his arms and walked around, and found that the equipment here was more complete than he had imagined.

Although it looks a bit messy, it has everything you need, including a simple kitchen with a stove, a food storage room full of canned goods, a tool room and even a small arsenal.

He even found a hydroponic cabinet where vegetables and fruits such as potatoes and tomatoes were grown, and they were growing surprisingly well.

"Found it." In less than half an hour, Marvin came out holding a pile of information. "Guatemala, autumn of 1992. In addition to the two of us, there were at least five other people on the list who were there. The specific location was outside of San Bentoni."

"I remember it was an Indian gathering place." Frank obviously still remembered the operation.

"Yes, it was a small village with less than a hundred people. Everyone inside was shot dead. The order we received was to 'clean up all traces and make it look like it never happened.'"

Marvin subconsciously wanted to hand the information in his hand to Jack who was holding out his hand to him, but he immediately reacted, and then the two of them froze in place, each holding one side of the information, until Frank coughed lightly and reminded him again.

"Marvin, I told you, Jack is one of us."

Jack took the information and flipped through it. Although the mental state of the sloppy old man in front of him was worrying, the content of his written records was very detailed, with complete time, place, characters and other elements, and the logic was very clear.

Unfortunately, this document is not an official action report. At the time, Frank and Marvin were only carrying out post-operation tasks, so the names recorded are incomplete. Some have only a first name, some have only a last name, and some are just nicknames.

"Can I understand it this way?" After looking through the information, Jack summarized the situation, "This massacre is a scandal, and someone doesn't want it to be exposed.

So when Stephanie Chen, a female reporter from the New York Times, was investigating the matter, it alerted some people, which led to the launch of a cleanup operation.

The other party was able to find Frank easily because the cleanup operation was initiated from within the CIA."

"Damn it!" Marvin stood up from the sofa suddenly, his dusty old face flushed with excitement, "Do you know what's wrong with this country?"

Jack was puzzled by his question. He subconsciously looked at Frank and asked hesitantly, "Because they don't even let go of retired old agents?"

"That's absolutely right. That's the problem." Marvin said as he beat his chest and danced with joy.

The bald man sighed helplessly, "Marvin, are you interested in joining us? There is one person still alive on the list, Gabriel Singer. We are going to go find him."

"Yeah!" Marvin was so excited that he almost jumped up and patted the bald man's shoulder. "Frank, I thought I would never say this again!"

Huh? Two question marks appeared in Frank and Jack's heads at the same time, not understanding what he was talking about.

"The piglets are ready to go again!" Marvin yelled, and rushed into a small room next to him that was full of weapons. However, when he appeared again, he only had a pink piglet doll in his hand.

-

"Are you sure we need to take him with us in our future operations?"

Driving the Subaru borrowed from the local office to the airport, Jack looked at Marvin, who was holding a pink pig doll in the back seat, with some worry. He always felt like a pervert who kidnapped a demented old man from a nursing home.

"Most of the time, Marvin is very reliable." Frank in the passenger seat assured him confidently, but the look he gave Marvin when he turned around made people feel that his words were not very convincing.

Whatever, since he thought it was okay, Jack didn't say anything more.

Things are different now. A few years ago, if he was involved in such a thing, the first thing he would do was call Rossi for help.

And now, he is too lazy to even disguise himself. After all, no matter how unscrupulous the CIA is abroad, it has to keep a low profile at home. For example, the assassinations of the female reporter and Frank before all used killers from outsourcing companies.