On the quality improvement of Omega agents

Randall fell asleep on the couch.

Bruce was already very close, and the blond man just rubbed his head against the armrest of the sofa, making the already slightly long blond hair look even messier.Bruce doesn't allow himself to wonder if he's just too tired, or if he's just wary of the beast he's lost.

The black-haired man bent down, carefully inserted his arms under Randall's body, and hugged him up with one force.The agent's lightness surprised him.The weight of another life did not seem to be reflected in him.He has lost a lot of weight recently, and the arms that are exposed outside the loose home clothes are more than a circle thinner, and the bones on his body leaning against Bruce even make people feel panicked.One of his arms was unconsciously wrapped around his protruding stomach, like some kind of stubborn guard.That's pretty much his only soft spot.The thin forearm was covered with a thin layer of muscle, and the tight appearance distorted the fine scars left on it many years ago.

Bruce watched Randall in his arms open his eyes.He smiled and said softly, "Go to sleep."

The blond agent blinked like some great beast awakened, the alertness in his blue pupils flickering as he saw Bruce's face.The little leopard, who was cleared of the alarm, didn't bother to understand why he was held horizontally in the arms of a senior CIA officer. The weightlessness of his feet in the air could not overcome the drowsiness of the raging drowsiness, and he quickly closed his eyes.

The golden-haired head rubbed against his shoulder vigorously, as if looking for the warmest place, and Randall's breathing soon became long and peaceful again.Bruce stood there for two seconds, exhaled, and controlled himself not to hurt the sleeping blond agent.

He wanted to hug him tighter.

Roth's research was conducted under the watchful eye of agents with live ammunition.Bruce hadn't been there, and the bitter sarcasm and sowing discord he had prepared were useless. The beta scientist actually knew in his heart that since Bruce was able to make a deal with a felon like himself for the omega that was only his agent a year ago, he could do everything for him now.Bruce Stewart's threats have never been taken as a bluff.

He had to work hard for the slightest hope of keeping his own brain.Rot knew that Bruce could not keep him alive, but at least he would die with his perfect brain.

The beta man thought back to seeing Bruce's face that day through the bulletproof glass and the bars of the prison.The coldness in the black-haired man's eyes is shocking.When Bruce Stewart peeled off his calm and calm exterior, what was revealed was a core that was enough to make people tremble.Rotor thought that this person would not accept any form of coercion.

Who would have thought that Bruce Stewart would also have moments of near despair.

bedroom.

Day four of Randall's coma.

The dark-haired man was sitting on a wooden chair beside the bed, his fingers crossed against his forehead.The drawn curtains were still unable to resist the strong midday sun outside, and the golden light shone through faintly. The middle-aged man in black looked as if he was praying.

Bruce wouldn't mind bowing his head to the gods for mercy if prayers would do the trick.

In this world, there is only one person who deserves his piety.

His agent lay there, as if caught in a long dream, so still and soundless.The bed was already soft enough to be pressed down only lightly.Randall's blond hair was scattered on the pillow, a little dull in color.Bruce reached out and smoothed the messy hair on Randall's forehead, but the blond agent still didn't respond.

Bruce stood up.He carefully closed the gaps in the curtains, the sunlight outside flashed across the black-haired man's face for a moment, his expression was stern.

He still has too much to do.

His agents have always had amazing vitality, just like he always liked to throw his life on the line, but never really gave up.He just likes to spend money like this, Bruce told himself.When he has had enough, he will come back.

Bruce believed in his omega.

Bruce has been very busy recently, busy clearing away all obstacles from the Special Task Force to the CIA headquarters where he wants to wield absolute power.It was already two o'clock at night when Garcia knocked on the door, and she saw her chief was concentrating on a top-secret document.

"Sir," the female adjutant whispered, "Urgent information in Area I." She put the documents in Bruce's desk, and said before leaving: "Your schedule for tomorrow has been arranged, fly to E at five in the morning." District, meet with the Chief Intelligence Officer of Country R."

Bruce raised his head slightly: "I see." The black-haired man didn't look tired, but Garcia could clearly see the blue shadows under Bruce's eyes.She hesitated to speak.

The black-haired man said lightly: "You can leave, Captain." He watched Garcia turn around, and added: "Thanks for your hard work."

The female soldier left without answering.Bruce was planning something, or rather, he was preparing for something.That man still looked calm and sophisticated on the surface, but every move he took was at the risk of putting all his eggs in one basket.Garcia could not understand the psychology of the chief.

But she can probably guess.

The female adjutant who has been with Bruce for many years can be sure that every time she sees the chief almost out of control, she will find a similar situation.The last time it was CIA agents sent out to strangle Randall, the last time Randall betrayed the CIA, and the last time Randall was proved to be addicted to drugs and could not live long.

Each time, either the person was leaving or the person was dying.

Garcia sighed inwardly.The invisible headset that the female soldier had been wearing all the time suddenly sounded. She stopped in the empty corridor, and then listened solemnly to what was said on the other side.

It's the agent assigned to watch on Oak Street.The elite personally arranged by Bruce will receive temporary instructions to monitor and evacuate every day. No one knows what alcohol is on Oak Street.Everyone is only responsible for monitoring and has no right to make any decisions without authorization.

The female adjutant walked into the office quickly, and Bruce raised his head and asked.

"Sir, there is something about the subject under surveillance on Oak Street." She saw Bruce tighten his fingers holding the document.

"what's the situation?"

Garcia said: "Our surveillance agents heard noises in the room, but did not enter the room without authorization."

Bruce stood up. "I see." He whispered: "Let the monitoring agent come back." After speaking, he strode out the door.Garcia whispered an order through the communicator, turned and left.She closed the door of the office, thinking to herself, the chief probably won't be back today.

It was three o'clock at night when Bruce rushed back.The night was startlingly quiet, the car parked hastily on the side of the road, Bruce stayed in the car for a few seconds, and there were no one left from the wonderful surveillance angles.After confirming that all the people he sent had been withdrawn, the head of the Special Service hurriedly slammed the car door and walked to his house.

Yes, he had people from the Special Service monitor the house, and no one knew that they were monitoring his own chief.

The lights in the room were on, and Bruce thought he held his breath for a second as he stepped into the living room.The small glass round table fell to the ground and was already broken. The glass shards on the ground reflected the light, and the strange noise heard by the agents outside was probably the sound of the table breaking.

His agent fell to the ground, his face was frighteningly pale.

Randall was still awake. He turned his head slightly, squinted his eyes and looked at Bruce for two seconds, as if he could see the person clearly.Bruce watched Randall slowly let go of a piece of broken glass in his hand, as if he was relieved, the senior CIA officer felt a sudden pain in his heart.

"How are you?"

Randall stood up slowly holding Bruce's arm, his face was still pale and frightening under the warm light, and cold sweat kept rolling down his forehead.

"Did I sleep for a long time?" he asked.

Bruce carefully supported Randall, who put all the weight of the blond agent on himself, and glanced at his quivering lips.

"You were in a deep sleep," Bruce said.When he saw the situation in the living room, he knew that Randall woke up from a coma but accidentally tripped over the round table due to lack of strength.

"I'd rather sleep until he's born." Randall muttered in a low voice, his voice trilled, and the air flow made a "hissing" sound when he breathed.

Bruce froze for a moment.

Randall's hand gripped Bruce's arm tightly, his knuckles glowing a terrible blue.The labor pain made him even move stiffly.

"Hey, I'm afraid your child doesn't want to stay in my body anymore."

It was the first time Dr. Banner met the omega who was about to give birth in the middle of the night.A male omega.

The patient's situation was very urgent, so he didn't worry about why such a rare male omega hadn't been registered with the city government.The man who sent him here has the aura of a superior, Banner thought, and gave the omega lying in the intensive care unit a sympathetic look. ——Omega is such a rare species that can drive alphas crazy, it is the dream of many people in power.Just by looking at the bony bones and pale skin of the blond man, except for the high belly, it was obvious that he must have suffered a lot.

Bruce glanced coldly at the obviously distracted doctor in front of him, and the other side suddenly shivered, and immediately called the night shift nurse to run to the operating room.

The black-haired man narrowed his eyes, and he connected the phone: "Bring Rot, right away."

The lights in the operating room were always on, and Bruce sat on a plastic chair in the corridor, staring expressionlessly at every medical staff who hurried past him into the operating room.

Rot was taken to the hospital 10 minutes later.The electronic handcuffs on his hands were not taken off, only a coat was put on over his arms as a cover.The two agents followed closely behind him, their guns tucked in the inner pockets of their clothes, and the safeties were already on.

Bruce stood up, and he nodded to the two agents: "You can leave now."

Rot looked around, and then showed a smile mixed with pride and sarcasm: "This day is finally here, huh?" He looked at Bruce's expressionless face and swallowed, "The most feared scene in your heart , is this it?"

Bruce raised his eyebrows: "I didn't ask you to come here for a guessing game, Mr. Rott." Bruce raised his chin towards the operating room, "I need to know what will happen to him next."

Rott still had that interesting expression: "Has he become lethargic recently?"

Bruce nods.He said: "He was in a coma for nearly a week before." The senior CIA officer clenched and loosened his hands hanging in his sleeves, and his tone was calm and unwavering: "His body is weakening very quickly."

Rot shrugged his shoulders, "This is expected - since he wants to keep the child." He looked at Bruce with a flat expression, but his eyes gleamed with cruelty: "He knew the ending a long time ago. "

Bruce's expression remained unchanged.The brown pupils seemed to be turbulent for a moment, but they calmed down quickly.

"This isn't the end," Bruce said, his voice hard.

Rott's lips twisted.He knew that his own words could not shake the determination of this black-haired man, although he would never understand where such a belief came from--the belief that there is a person who will never abandon you, the belief that he will return to you through death and fate. Come by your side.But at least it would be a good choice to let the chief executive of the special task force feel depressed.

"According to this speed, his body is almost exhausted." Rott said: "The production process will kill him."

"it would killshim." Rott took a step back before his voice fell.The aura on the black-haired man suddenly exploded, as if there was an invisible, monstrous huge wave rushing up from behind him, smashing down overwhelmingly, making it suffocating.

Bruce Stewart paused every word.

"I have the final say on his fate."