On the quality improvement of Omega agents

"Bruce, you know the consequences of messing with a broken omega."

The black-haired man looked indifferently at the deputy director of the CIA, Andrew Kent, who was sitting opposite him. This high-ranking CIA official who was as big as a boxer still maintained a calm tone, but the content was definitely not polite. "Getting it together" is not a word you should use in a conversation with the Chief of the Task Force.

Bruce said in a deep voice, "Kent, what do you mean?"

Kent chuckled, and said: "Bruce, Bald Eagle, at least we have worked together for quite a while, I swear to God I have never seen you care so much about a subordinate." He paused, then continued: " You know what the breakpoints are, Bruce, and I've always hoped you could get over the Ruth thing, but definitely not with a blonde omega agent."

Bruce raised an eyebrow.He looked at the sincerity on Kent's face, and seemed a little amused: "Andrew, I know you're worried about me." He glanced at the silver ring on his ring finger inadvertently, and said lightly: "I don't know why It makes you feel that I have a relationship with my agents that goes beyond the scope of work." He said indifferently, intentionally or unintentionally skipping over the name that hadn't been mentioned for a long, long time.

Ruth.Ruth.

Kent stared into Bruce's eyes, not even changing the subject because of the annoyance in the man's voice. ——Bruce Stewart is standing on the verge of extreme danger, and Kent doesn't believe that this CIA legend has no vigilance.He said slowly: "You know the bureau is watching closely now," Kent paused, he didn't mind telling Bruce that he was not only making the Pentagon thorn in his back, but also attracting suspicion from his own people. "Mr. Randall is your favorite work. You take him too seriously, Bruce. The top bureaucrats don't like this. They call it a 'private party.'"

Bruce picked up the coffee on the table and took a sip, "So they asked you to investigate me."

Deputy Director Andrew Kent frowned when he heard Bruce's plain affirmative tone: "You know, no one wants to do this." He showed a somewhat bitter smile: "They probably thought that we had some friendship before and pushed me away." Come out, and your revenge in the future will be lighter."

That was blunt enough that Bruce smiled, "Oh, it doesn't have to be, you know it doesn't have to be, Kent."

They never had any friendship.

Bruce said lightly: "So this is the result of your investigation? Me and breakpoint number three?"

Kent also twitched the corners of his mouth, "You don't usually call him that, Mr. James, do you?" He paused, observing Bruce's reaction: "He was the only one in Breakpoint that you personally recruited, seven years ago, The guy you brought back when you came back from the New York intelligence service became the ace in Breakpoint."

The room was very quiet, only Kent was narrating in a tone with little ups and downs.

"You are his training officer. You personally trained an omega for three years, as a senior officer who no longer needs to be in charge of newcomers."

"You take him as a liability because you brought him back, and for some reason, you feel like you promised him something, don't contradict me, Bruce, I've seen that agent, he's not someone you can control, but from some In a way, his allegiance is to you. Only to you, not to the CIA."

"He's not just your agent, Bruce. He's been with you for seven years. Is there anyone else who has stayed with you longer than him?"

"Others as guinea pigs, you've seen them in heat, but you've never seen him before, because of what? Breakpoint Three has a drug problem and he's disabled, Bruce, if he's just a precious experiment to you Pin, why were you in his brig this morning?"

Kent said one sentence after another, and Bruce's face was frosty.

"Enough, Kent, it sounds like you're making a list of crimes." He said dryly, "He's just a guinea pig." Bruce said, hours before his agent laughed over a few gummy candies , blue eyes sparkling.He brought back his agent from that frozen city, he watched that skinny omega with blond hair become invincible now, he is his best weapon and work, his painstaking effort, the most important thing Yes, he is his.

Blood thumped in his veins, and Bruce could almost hear his own brain working.He was suppressing himself, not to release the pheromone in front of Kent.The other party is also an alpha, so I'm afraid he is very familiar with this kind of smell. —He hasn't had time to use inhibitors on himself after watching Randall.

Kent snorted and said, "Bruce, probably no one in the entire CIA knows you better than me. You know everything in your heart." He paused, and said, "Secret parties are not allowed in the bureau, let alone the chief of the special branch. Personal with his agent. He's a weapon, and if he doesn't have a purpose, he doesn't even have a purpose." He saw Bruce's irritability, and decided to risk pushing the conversation into a more dangerous situation.

—he had to force Bruce to make this decision.

Bruce was silent for a while.He suddenly smiled and said, "So, as I said, he is just a test subject, Kent." His tone was chilling and cold: "If you have to discard it, it is an acceptable loss."

Kent didn't smile: "This is you." He knew Bruce had made up his mind.The blond agent no longer poses a threat to the CIA's most potential intelligence officer. What he needs to worry about now is what means Bruce will use to "repay" his investigation.The black-haired man in front of him is like a giant python, always hiding murderous intentions in his quietness, he is staring at him, he is afraid that he will never die - he doesn't even need venom, he only needs to apply pressure slowly, it is enough to suffocate the prey And death, it will be a painful and slow process.

Bruce didn't say anything more, he watched Kent leave his office.The black-haired man unscrewed and capped the pen in his hand a little irritably, then opened the drawer and took out a syringe.Slightly frowning, he injected the translucent liquid into the light blue blood vessels in his arms. Bruce felt that the inhibitor was rushing through the blood all over his body.

damn it.The haze on the black-haired man's face did not dissipate. God knows what a challenge it would be for an alpha to stay in the same space with an exceptionally powerful and beautiful omega who had just been in heat.While Kent was talking to him, he couldn't show any abnormalities. Obviously, because of visiting Mr. James, his pheromones almost lost control, which would add an extra powerful one to the "crimes" listed by Kent.

Bruce didn't like his overpowering nature, and the chief of the task force exhaled softly.He didn't like what Kent said, but yes, he paid too much attention to the blue-eyed agent, Bruce thought.

Randall James, he is a fierce beast that cannot be tamed, willing to put Bruce's collar around his neck, his leopard will show his fangs to him, and will pounce on him for comfort, his pets are naturally cruel and addicted blood, and occasionally accepts blankets and fudge when sick.Bruce suddenly thought that he never seemed to touch Randall's hair, wondering if it was really soft and warm like some kind of large mammal.

He thought that he was used to walking alone in this darkness, but he never thought that he would unknowingly get used to seeing a person as his own.

This feeling should not exist.Even if it exists, it should be over by now.

He also controls the life gate of the beast, and his leopard has sensitive emotions and vigilance.The collar gradually tightened, and this time both fangs and claws would become a real threat.All the killing intent finally came to the moment when it became real.

The black-haired man's eyes looked over the bridge of his nose, and gradually became colder.

When Garcia found Randall, the blond agent was sitting by the file room window, facing outward, his legs dangling dangerously over the outer ledge.

He held a glass wine bottle in his hand and poured it into his mouth one by one, looking a little careless.

"Breakpoint number three." Garcia lowered her voice.The archives room was deserted, but Garcia somehow felt that she shouldn't disturb anything.

She walked slowly towards Randall.The blond agent was wrapped in some messy bandages, and the fine wounds and bloodstains could still be seen vaguely.Garcia didn't ask any questions. Obviously, Randall didn't receive "treatment" from the "infirmary", and Garcia didn't think it was necessary to ask.

When Randall heard the voice, he turned his head and glanced at the female soldier. He smiled and said, "What's the matter, ma'am?"

The smile of the blond man was against the moonlight, and it looked a little blurry, and the darkened blue eyes gave people an illusion for a moment.

"You're not supposed to be here," Garcia said, though it wouldn't be surprising to see Randall dangling his legs and getting himself drunk in a top-secret house. thing. —Rules have never been a "dos and don'ts" for the blond agent.

Randall shrugged his shoulders, his articulate words were clear and his eyes were clear. Garcia glanced over the two empty wine bottles lying on the ground, and gained a new understanding of Breakpoint Agent's alcohol tolerance.

"It's not easy to find a quiet place, ma'am. Don't worry, it doesn't matter if I fall here." He actually bent down and leaned forward to look at it a few times. Stepping forward, the blond agent retracted his body, the smile on his face was still shaking: "This height, I can't fall to my death."

Garcia finally rolled her eyes uncontrollably: "Mr. Agent, you are not a cat with nine lives, please don't make fun of your own life." ——If Breakpoint No. [-]'s cause of death is "in the window on the second floor of the I got drunk outside and accidentally broke my neck", Garcia felt that she was not far from being sent to a military court.

——The female soldier is seriously considering this possibility. After all, Mr. Randall can be very reliable or extremely inconspicuous, it all depends on his mood.

The blond agent narrowed his eyes with a smile: "Oh, thank you for your concern, Garcia."

Randall's voice was a little hoarse, and he read out the name in a low voice, Garcia stiffened involuntarily, and she decided to make a quick decision: "Breakpoint number three, you have a new mission."

Randall slowly raised his eyebrows: "Oh?" He seemed to finally shake his head in a daze, and looked at Garcia: "When did you change the task to me, ma'am?"

Garcia gritted her teeth. The scene of this morning flashed before her eyes. Her chief and the blond man stood together in the confinement room, brown eyes meeting blue ones.Her chief silently looked at the agent lying in the glass cage, and Garcia felt as if she had never seen such a back.

"Assassination mission in District I, start immediately."

Randall blinked, and Garcia saw a faint light in those dark blue eyes. "Ah," the man replied a little confused, his hoarse voice seemed lazy and careless: "Is this sir's instruction?"

Garcia slowly squeezed her fingers, "I'm only responsible for delivering orders, breakpoint number three."

Randall scratched his head indiscriminately, his short blond hair was in a mess, which became even more messy under his own vigorous rubbing, and he turned back from the window with a flick of his long legs.Garcia narrowed her eyes to watch the blond man's movements.

Randall smiled meaninglessly, and said, "Okay." He quickly jumped off the window sill, and Garcia saw the hideous wounds all over the man's tattered shirt.

The female soldier exhaled lightly after hearing Randall's affirmative reply. She was not even sure whether the blonde agent was awake at this time.She slowly removed the fingers that were already on the holster.

Garcia watched as Randall drank the last few drops of wine in the bottle, and swung the empty bottle as he swung past her. The smell of alcohol covered his body, covering up the sweetness of the pheromone left after the estrus. Greasy and that little bit of rust.

"Your plane is on standby on the top floor, and it will take off in 3 minutes." The female soldier made her tone sound like a cold mechanical female voice, and she looked at the blond agent who seemed to be omnipotent: "Good luck, agent."

The man's voice was very soft, and he sounded careless: "Thank you." He paused for a moment, and smiled: "Say goodbye to the officer for me."

Garcia stood where she was, and she heard the sound of the archives door being closed, and the agent's footsteps didn't sound like they were drunk at all.The female soldier turned around and was about to leave. The file room was full of dust, mixed with a little alcohol, and it didn't smell like vodka.The man had always liked the spirits from Russia.

Before the female soldier left, she walked over to pick up the empty wine bottle thrown in the corner, she didn't know whether she was out of curiosity or something else.

It's bourbon.

The author has something to say: In chapter 17, the chief told Randall that he prefers bourbon to Volga~

Hey, I suddenly feel sorry for my little shou~