Daily life of an American TV drama agent

At the IRS Los Angeles Special Operations Team Headquarters, Ron gathered all his subordinates together in a rare event. Everyone looked at Ron with confusion, because this situation had happened twice so far, but both times were major events. Did something happen again this time?

"Guys, I need to know the whereabouts of a man, John Doe, the one from the NSA, who some of you may be familiar with, like you, Deckard Shaw, and you, Gizelle."

Ron named the two people who had had in-depth contact with Nameless Doe before. The two people shook their heads helplessly. Deckard Shaw was just someone who was tracked by Nameless Doe. He would be damned if he had any information about Nameless Doe.

"You are making things difficult for me, BOSS. You clearly know that my relationship with him is only about catching and being caught. If you ask me, you might as well ask Gizelle, she might know more."

Ron turned his attention to Gizelle, who still shook his head: "I used to be a small agent affiliated with the CIA and occasionally served the NSA. I was not qualified to contact such a heavyweight. I think you are wrong. Like it."

"BOSS, I think it is very unwise for you to come to us to investigate the whereabouts of Anonymous." Seeing everyone's silence, Andy simply stood up and said on behalf of everyone: "Although we are nominally a tax investigation agency, we are half an intelligence agency. , but for some reason, I won’t name anyone. Most of our members are combatants. You can ask these people to do anything, even if it is to attack a small country, it is no problem, but to engage in intelligence If so, wouldn’t it be a bit too difficult for everyone?”

Endy's words made everyone nod in approval, and Ron's face darkened. Although Andy said he was not naming names, anyone with a brain knew that he was talking about him, but he couldn't refute it.

Because Andy told the truth, the members of the special operations team were indeed selected by him, and indeed, as Andy said, the most outstanding ability of most people is combat effectiveness, but when it comes to intelligence investigation, it is Not that good at it anymore.

"What you said makes sense. Maybe I should talk to someone who is really good at intelligence work. That's it for today." Ron stood up and took out the encrypted recorder from his pocket and put it on the table: "Chris , ask your friend to help me decipher this and see if I can decipher the content."

Chris has a good friend he has known since childhood who is a very top hacker. Based on the idea of ​​​​not using it in vain, Ron gave him this job.

"No problem." Chris answered simply as always.

When Ron was worried about not being able to find Nameless Doe, what he didn't know was that many other people were also worried, but they were worried about different things.

The head of the NSA, Special Intelligence Division, was yelling at his agents: "It was just a little bit close. Fortunately, the person who planted the bomb was an amateur, otherwise we would have had a second 9/11 incident soon! Who are you people?" What are you doing to eat!”

"It's not our fault, BOSS, we haven't received a number for a week."

An agent said aggrievedly, but the person in charge behind the desk became even more angry and slammed the table: "Don't make excuses for your incompetence! We didn't have a number in the past, but we still resisted many attacks against the United States. Action! Get out of here, no matter what methods you use, I don’t want to see another terrorist attack happen this month!”

There was a row of scolded agents standing in front of him. After hearing this, the Alliance swarmed out of the office, fearing that they would be caught and continue to scold them.

After everyone in the office had left, the person in charge lay helplessly on the sofa, looking at the ceiling and muttering to himself: "It won't work if this goes on. We must get the machine back to normal quickly..."

"Ding bell~" The computer suddenly received an email. The person in charge looked overjoyed and quickly picked up the landline phone on the table: "The chip we found before was cracked by technicians and is related to a company called Decima Technology. All People should immediately put down their work and go investigate this company..."

At the same time, Reese was complaining to Finch about the same problem: "We haven't received a new number for ten days. What's going on now? Do you think we can still receive numbers in the future? Or is the virus already there?" Permanently destroyed your machine?"

"I believe the machine is still active, but it can't contact us." Finch replied casually while sorting out the information.

At this moment, the hound, which had been lying quietly on the ground, suddenly stood up and barked in the direction of the door. Reese quickly pulled out his pistol and pointed it at the door: "Who is it?"

"It's me," the person at the door walked out of the shadows and came into the light. It was none other than Ron: "Relax, we are friends, right?"

"Ron, what are you doing here?" Reese still maintained a vigilant posture because he was afraid of Ron's strength.

"I originally planned to seek some intelligence support from you, but now it seems that maybe you also need help." Ron whistled, and the hound rushed to his side very familiarly, enjoying being rubbed by Ron's head.

"I appreciate your innocence, Ron, but I believe it would be better to leave my professional matters to professionals," Finch replied unceremoniously, but as soon as he finished speaking, someone in the library The landline phone suddenly rang.

"Ring ring ring..."

The three people looked at each other, and Rise reacted first: "Oh my God, did the machine fix itself?"

"Not sure yet." Under the gaze of the two people, Finch solemnly picked up the phone. After a fuzzy electronic sound, he wrote the new number on his notebook.

"It looks like your machine is about to start working again. Can you ask him to help me with a little help now? I need to find someone." Ron looked around, locked his eyes on the computer's camera, walked over and waved at the camera. Waving his hand: "Hi! I know you can see it. I know what I'm talking about. I need your help. Help me find a person, codenamed Anonymous, from the NSA."

Then Ron took out his cell phone and stared at the screen waiting for the message from the machine. But something embarrassing happened. Ron looked at the phone so hard that he couldn't even wait for the message from the machine.

"Ron, I think the machine has not been restored yet. He is just guiding us to find clues that can help him."

On the other side, Finch has entered the social security number into the computer, printed out the photo of the number owner and pasted it on the whiteboard.

"Who is he? He looks familiar, as if he has seen him on TV." Ron asked curiously.

"Ernest Donhill, the CEO of a data entry company, perhaps you may have just watched an interview with him, recently bought several Los Angeles public phone companies and has a net worth of over $20 million." Photo by Finch He read the information on the computer and said, "Sorry, Ron, if you want to get information from the machine, you may need to help us fix his fault first."

"It seems I have no choice. Tell me, what should I do?"

Ron shrugged his shoulders and said helplessly. John Doe is affiliated with the NSA and is one of the highest-level secret personnel. Not to mention that all his information is hidden in a database that is not connected to the Internet. Even if it is connected to the Internet, hacking technology can only be used at most. Only his personal information can be found, but if you want to continuously track the whereabouts of Anonymous or other information related to him, no one or organization can do it except for machines that monitor every electronic device.

"First, we need to find this Mr. Donhill, but he is very cautious and it is difficult to hack into his company's database. By using a unique alphanumeric character of up to ten digits with no repetitions as a password, I can It’s a crack, but it’s time consuming, why don’t we pay a visit to Mr. Tang Hill in person?”

"I don't think it's necessary."

Ron shook his head and rejected Finch's proposal. When Finch said the name of the company, Ron sent the company name and CEO name to Hobbs. The FBI has the authority to retrieve the expense records. If it can be checked Go to his personal consumption record, and you can immediately know where he is.

Sure enough, Hobbes' message came back quickly.

"Five minutes ago, Tang Hill's secretary just rented a car and went to the airport to pick him up back to the company. He will be there within an hour. Maybe we can say hello to him on the way."

"I'll go with you." Rise stood up and said.

"No, I'll just go alone." Ron patted Rise on the shoulder and said, "You stay to protect Finch. You don't want someone to kidnap him again while you're away, right?"

Ron was talking about the last incident where Finch was robbed, and Reese nodded heavily.

Since Reese was kidnapped by Gen last time, Reese has been inseparable from Finch for a long time, almost becoming a personal bodyguard. It was not until he was sure that the woman had set her sights on other things that she relaxed. This time Things are unusual, and the assumption that the other party's real target is Finch himself cannot be ruled out.

20 minutes later, Ron parked the car next to the only road from the airport to the city. He flipped up the seat and lay down in the car, creating the illusion of someone inside.

"Finch, report Mr. Donhill's location."

"According to the GPS in the car, there is only one kilometer between Tang Xier and you."

Ron raised his head slightly and glanced. Except for a commercial vehicle that just passed by him, there were no other vehicles on the road.

"I haven't seen him yet."

"Mr. Donhill's car will show up at any time..."

"Wait a minute, I saw him." Under the viaduct in front, a black car was slowly driving down from above. The vague license plate number of the car was officially rented by Tang Xier.

However, Ron's joy did not last for a second when he suddenly found a drone flying from the sky. After circling in the sky, it swooped down towards Tang Hill's rented car.

"Damn it! They're going to blow up Donsil's car!"

Ron quickly opened the door and jumped out of the car, lifted up the hem of his suit, quickly pulled out his revolver and pointed it at the drone to shoot: "Bang bang bang..."

Almost in an instant, six bullets were fired, but unfortunately it was still a step too late.

Although the bullet hit the drone, the drone's self-destruction system had already been activated. With a "boom", the car turned into a fireball and overturned to the ground.

"Ron! Ron! How are you doing? Is Mr. Donhill okay?"

Hearing the abnormal noise over there, Reese shouted anxiously into the earphones, and Ron lowered his hands in despair: "Sorry, I'm a step too late, the drone has blown up the car, and Mr. Tang Hill has... "

As Ron spoke, he walked to the car and opened the door, only to be surprised and speechless by what was inside.

Halfway through the words, Rise became even more anxious: "What's wrong with him? You're talking!"

"He's not in the car!"

In the car, except for a dying driver, there was no other person. Tang Hill Ron felt that he was being tricked: "Finch, I think Mr. Tang Hill may know that someone is planning to kill him, and even knows that there is more than one group of people. I wanted to find him, so I laid suspicion and then hid myself. Damn it! I was originally looking for someone, but now I want to add one more person to the list of people I’m looking for?”

"I think it shouldn't be necessary," Finch shook his head and replied: "I just discovered a very strange thing. No employee in Tang Hill's company has met him. Even his secretary was recruited by him online. Do you know what this means?"

"This means that this person may not exist at all," Ron's eyes lit up and he called up Mr. Tang Hill's photo on his phone.

When Ron looked at the photo with the preconceived notion that this person didn't exist at all, Ron finally discovered where his sense of familiarity came from.

"Fincher, use a computer to decompose Don Hill's photo. Hell, this guy's photo is a composite of photos of Nicolas Cage and Johnny Depp! No wonder I always feel so familiar!"

In the library, Finch combined the photos of the two celebrities mentioned by Ron, and sure enough, he got the photo of Don Hill.

"You're right, Ron," Finch looked at the photos on the computer and frowned, "But where did his identity come from?"

"This situation is very common in our industry. The official undercover has constructed his career, residence and life in advance. Even if you go to the school in his profile, you can see the modified graduation photo with the undercover added. Everything is not as good as Sihao There was a flaw, and then one day the operation was cancelled. The person in charge was too lazy to clean up the original false identity, and this false identity was taken advantage of by someone with intentions. If I were you, I would check the location of his mobile phone right now. "

"Wait a minute," Finch typed on the computer for a while: "I hacked into Mr. Donhill's mobile phone bill. According to GPS data, he appeared near Hollywood Boulevard two days ago."

Ron received a map photo from Fincher on his cell phone, showing a location marked with a red dot on an empty square.

"He sent an email from this location, but there was no one at this location. Someone tampered with the data. I think I know who he is..."

Finch stood up in sudden realization.

"who is he?"