On the quality improvement of Omega agents

Randall lived in Bruce's "home".He wears a baggy cotton T-shirt and hangs around the house all day.

Bruce rarely showed up, but Randall knew that there were still many surveillance agents around the house, each of whom was Bruce's confidant, and many of them were even trained by Randall himself.But presumably they don't know what the identity of the mission target called surveillance is actually protection.

Randall didn't raise any objection when he found out that Bruce was going to put him under house arrest. He lazily nestled in a pile of soft sofa cushions and stared at the football game in full swing on the TV screen. When the figure in the overcoat was about to melt into the shadow by the window, he spoke slowly.

"Hey, I have nowhere to go anyway, thank you for letting me live in your house."

The blond man watched the striker head the goal on the screen, Bruce walked quickly towards the gate, the coat passed between Randall and the fluorescent screen, Randall listened to the sound of the door slamming, with a little An imperceptible panic and haste.He showed a fox-like, sly and smug smile.

special service.

The rebellion at Breakpoint No. [-] has been completely covered up, the blood on the ground has been washed away, and the smell of gunpowder smoke has dissipated, but the turbulent waves caused by this incident have just begun.

Bruce heard his own footsteps on the polished floor, and the Special Service was still running at a cool and high speed as always.

The moment the door of the conference room was pushed open, the eyes of everyone in the room focused on it.Bruce walked in. He looked well-groomed, but his steps were fast, and the black woolen coat seemed to be able to bring air with his steps.

"Good morning everyone."

The senior CIA officials present all nodded their heads, and the chief dispatched by the special task raised his chin slightly, and the room fell silent.

"This meeting is about my last proposal. The breakpoint plan has been completely abolished," Bruce paused, and said, "All relevant mission materials and personnel have been classified as first-class secrets and permanently sealed. I hope everyone can Satisfied with the way it was handled.”

The top officials of the special task force have said such things, so how can those sitting below have any objections?The program that created the CIA's sharpest weapons and greatest dangers is over, and no one will talk about Breakpoint or some powerful, omega agent, as if they never existed.

Bruce was no longer surprised by what he found—Randall, James' existence, would be a secret to him alone.

He knew exactly what he wanted, and that thought surged through his veins with strong emotion, but it made him calmer.Bruce really never imagined that the desire to completely get someone would one day be so clear.

Bruce Stewart advanced his off-duty time, which was the first time in the history of the special service, and Garcia wisely kept silent about it.Recently, she has been busy assisting Amanda to adapt to the status of a liaison officer between the Special Service and the Pentagon. This young beta female agent has an excellent resume, and her performance in the breakpoint [-] rebellion earned her this honor. An important job and the respect of many, including Garcia.

Garcia could see that after learning the whole story of the Breakpoint Project, there was a strange yet familiar emotion in Amanda's eyes, strange because it was an emotion that excellent agents were not allowed to have, and familiar because she was in many "excellent agents". "Spy" eyes.For example, that blond man who was once called "Ace", such as the aloof master of this secret service agency.

Garcia looked at Amanda for a few seconds, but eventually she said nothing.Randall James is dead to them.

One day your feelings will calm down slowly, be quiet, and no longer restless or turbulent.Maybe you still can't forget, but it will not hinder you from crossing.Because the facts and time have made people understand whether this is a complete loss or a permanent gain.

Amanda would be a good enough agent.

The sound of Bruce opening the door woke Randall from his sleep.

He has become more lethargic recently, whether it is due to the reaction of pregnancy or the weakness of his body, but his vigilance is still ringing in his ears like an endless alarm clock.

"Hey, good evening."

Bruce walked in, he didn't turn on the light in the living room, and said in a gentle voice, "Just woke up?" The man turned on the small lamp standing next to the sofa, and some dim light shone into the living room.Randall sat up with his messy hair, he rubbed the blanket beside him, and Bruce sat down directly next to the ball of blanket.

Randall squinted his eyes and looked at his watch, and grinned, "It's so early, my dear~" He deliberately used a sweet, greasy, artificial tone that made people feel hairy.

Bruce outlined the corners of his lower lip slightly.He didn't know what was wrong with him, he knew that a certain golden-haired guy was just making his usual mocking jokes, but still his heart moved slightly.

He should have known that falling in love with this guy wasn't just about being tough and pretty.

Randall found that the dark-haired man was indifferent to his mocking words, and shrugged his shoulders boredly.He reached for the paper bag in Bruce's hand, his bulging stomach made his movement a little difficult, and the senior CIA officer casually pushed the bag towards Randall.Randall looks him over the shoulder, and Bruce finds it hard to look at those blue, usually piercing eyes with a little bewilderment and not smile.But in fact he laughed, Bruce Stewart couldn't control his smile, he tilted his head at Randall who was a little dazed.

"I think you'll have to get used to this later on."

Randall turned his head blankly and took a breath out of Bruce's sight.God knows that even if he sees this man smile a hundred times, he won't be able to get used to it.Randall thought with some shame that if it wasn't for his heart beating wildly like an electronic bomb that would explode in a second right in front of him, he would almost think it was a hallucination.

He is still Bruce Stewart, fresh and alive.Randall thought as he took the donuts out of the paper bag, he probably just... couldn't believe it.

Like all dreams come true in an instant, the blond man casually inspects the colorful icing on the donuts when he suddenly says, "Hey, maybe we should talk."

Randall felt himself tongue-tied. "We gotta talk" is not Randall's way of opening a classic family drama.He saw Bruce fold the empty paper bag flat and squeeze it in his hand.

"Given the fact that I'm dying," Randall cleared his throat, as if about to announce something shockingly big, completely ignoring the bombshell of the word "life and death" in the first half of his sentence, "I think I should respond to what you said last night."

The blond man paused, and he said slowly, "I love you, Bruce." He rolled his throat and swallowed.

Bruce had no expression on his face, his brown eyes still gleaming in the dimness.He looks at Randall.When his agent confessed, his tone was serious, as if he was discussing a proposition that was a matter of life and death, or an overly dangerous task that was not affirmed.He didn't even bother to hide his nervousness, and the sugar crumbs fluttered from Randall's overstretched hand, embedded in the camel-colored carpet pile.

Bruce said, "If that's what you want to talk about."

Randall holds the donut in his hand, seemingly undecided whether to swallow it in one bite or crush it into crumbs and throw it on the floor.But he looked up to meet Bruce's gaze after two seconds.

"I think we've come to an agreement," Bruce said, his voice sounding mild, "don't lie to me, from now on."

Randall froze for a moment.He didn't expect it to be so "easy".Bruce Stewart is not a person who can be deceived at will. This man is like an iceberg, only one-eighth of which is exposed on the water, and the invisible place is all cold and deep, showing a majesty without words.

Randall blinked. "Nomorelies."

Bruce's eyes were light, and he lingered on Randall's face, and he said: "The breakpoint plan no longer exists."

Randall was amused, and he looked predictable. "I won't miss it," said the blond agent.

Bruce said: "Your identity will not be recognized by the special service."

"Then you are harboring a dangerous person in your house who has been officially declared dead, Chief Stewart."

Bruce leaned back, and the black windbreaker and the soft blanket were huddled together. "Oh, that's a risk I'm willing to take." Bruce smiled as he watched the blond agent eat the donut.

Randall quickly fell asleep again.

Bruce turned the TV down, picked up the glass on the table, and remembered that the cupboard had been emptied in case someone got drunk.The dark-haired man drank the white water in the glass slowly.He stood up and left without a sound.

When the car drove out of the driveway in front of the door, the headlights were not turned on, and the sound of the engine starting soon disappeared. On the sofa in the room, the blond man turned over, and the already tall man was clumsy because of his bloated abdomen. .

Randall huddled in the furry blanket, quietly opening his eyes.

special service.

Bruce stood on the side of the fence with a nonchalant expression.Roth sat on a chair welded to the ground in the center of the cell, wearing a onesie for prisoners.He smiled at Bruce.

"I thought you didn't want to see anyone related to Project Breakpoint anymore, sir." The beta man's voice carried his usual madness, "Then why are you standing here now?"

The silence made the black-haired man's aura even colder, and he spoke slowly after a few seconds.

"Either you die, or save him."