Daily life of an American TV drama agent

"He's my work. I've only used him in one place that can never be copied, and that's on a machine. Ernest Donhill is not a spy, but you're right, he doesn't exist either. He is a product of survival instinct stress."

"Can you be more specific? I don't understand what you are saying." Ron was confused by Finch's words.

"Okay, let me put it in simpler terms, Ernest Downhill is a machine!" Finch's solemn voice exploded in Ron's eardrums: "There is a virus in the machine. This is a stress mechanism of it. .”

"Stress mechanism?" Ron said the word again.

Ron is not unfamiliar with the word stress mechanism. It is a commonly used term in biology. Many creatures have this mechanism in order to survive. The most typical example is that geckos will actively dock their tails when they encounter danger, and squid will take the initiative to dock their tails when they encounter danger. Sometimes ink will spray out, it's the same thing, it just appears on the machine, this is the first time Ron has heard of it.

"You are really a genius, Finch," Ron couldn't help but sigh: "You actually moved biological things to a machine. In this case, what is the machine? Is it already a new life form with independent thinking? ?Looks like a real human being.

See what he did? He bought a company, a house, and rented a car for himself. Now I wouldn't be surprised if his girlfriend pops up again. "

"I don't know either," Finch's voice revealed a bit of confusion: "But this is no longer the most important issue. There is one thing you should probably know, Ron. There is a virus in the machine, and that is when it starts the application. Due to the activation mechanism, the machine will automatically restart in less than six hours."

"So, the final protection mechanism you added to the machine program is still the same as what I originally imagined, which is to restart? In that case, what are we going to do with so much effort?" Ron said a little funny when he heard this: "Why? Why don’t we just wait and let him restart on his own from the beginning?”

"No, Ron, the matter is far more serious than you think," Finch's tone became more serious: "Once it restarts, the machine will call any public phone in Los Angeles, and the first person to receive the call will , will obtain the highest authority of the machine and become the true master of the machine."

"Really? In that case, would you like to come with me? Harold."

As soon as Finch finished speaking, a woman with a charming smile walked out of the shadows of the library. It was Gen whom she had not seen for a long time.

"Finch, who is talking over there?" Ron asked curiously when he heard Finch's unfamiliar voice.

Gen pointed the pistol at Finch and pointed at the phone next to him to signal him to hang up quickly. Finch was about to call Ron for help, but was stopped by a photo on Gen's phone. He could only say helplessly: "Uh. , no one, it’s the takeout pizza I just ordered, it’s time for me to eat, Ron, goodbye.”

"Beep~" Finch hung up the phone, and Ron shook his head helplessly: "Okay, it seems there is trouble over there again."

With that said, Ron hailed a taxi and said, "Go to the Old Municipal Library."

On the other side, Finch put down the phone and looked up at Gen: "What on earth do you want?!"

"She's very bearable, right? Harold," Gen proudly flipped through the photos on his phone with his fingers: "To be honest, I don't know how you can bear to live without her. I think you definitely don't want to lose her for the second time." times, right?”

"If you dare to hurt her..."

"I don't want to hurt Grace. I'm not a sociopath, Harold. Believe me, sometimes I wish I was. That way, I could be more relaxed when it comes to doing what I need to do."

Grace, Finch's former fiancée, happened to meet her best friend before getting married. The colleagues who developed the machine together were silenced by the government, so Finch chose to hide herself and continue to fulfill her friend's legacy and save those ignored by the NSA. , but on the list of people whose lives are in danger at any time, this name has also become Finch's weakness.

"I don't like killing, I will kill, because I believe in something more important, that is your machine. At midnight tonight, when the virus countdown reaches zero, a certain shared phone will ring. This will be the most important call in history. You already knew about the call, right?”

Gen looked at Finch with a half-smile: "I'm not like your idiot friend. I believe you don't know which phone is ringing. I think the NSA also knows this."

"Sneeze! Sneeze!" Ron sneezed twice in front of the Los Angeles Police Department and couldn't help but tighten his coat: "Why does it feel like Los Angeles is colder this winter than in previous years? Seriously, If you just wear a suit, won't you feel cold? Rise?"

"No, I've long been used to it." Reese shook his head indifferently: "Thank you for getting me out of it, Ron. How is Finch now?"

An hour ago, when Reese was following Finch's prompt to go to the apartment rented by Tang Hill to investigate, he was caught by the police who suddenly broke in. If Ron hadn't gone to the police station to bail him out, , based on the record he left at the police station, he should have been taken away by the CIA long ago.

"I think his situation is very bad." Ron took out a recording on his mobile phone player. The recording was a conversation between Finch and another person:

"911 call center, what help do you need?"

"I would like to report a break-in at Mr Donhill's home and he is an extremely dangerous person."

"Why did he do this?" Rise looked confused.

"I guess if she didn't want to see you, then someone forced her to make this call. Just when I was on the phone with Finch just now, I heard a strange woman's voice. Do you know who it was?"

Ron once again played the recording of the call with Finch to Reese.

"It's Gen! She forced him to make a phone call!"

"It should be, so we should find your good friend now. This is also the purpose of getting you out of it." Ron's eyes flashed: "I guess after the last experience, you should be early Just be prepared for her to be kidnapped again, right?"

Reese nodded: "It's just glasses. I've lost them before, so I will put a tracking device on the people I care about."

"I now understand why you and Harold fell in love. In case you forget, I would like to remind you that gays can now legally register for marriage in Los Angeles. My cousin just held a wedding with her boyfriend not long ago. Maybe You can also consider it." Ron said jokingly.

"This joke is not funny at all," Rise twitched his eyes, took out his mobile phone and glanced at the tracker's location: "They are here! Desima Company, the company under Tang Hill's name, we are now We must rush there immediately.”

As he spoke, Riser raised his head and looked around, and soon fixed his sights on a powerful Dodge Challenger on the side of the road: "This car looks good."

Rise touched the car body appreciatively, raised his arm and was about to smash the window glass, when a big hand immediately grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. Rise turned around and looked at Ron in confusion.

"If you don't want to cause trouble, I advise you not to do this. If you dare to damage this car, I guarantee that there will be a strong bald man who will use a wrench to shape your head into a hexagon. This is His sweetheart," Ron waved the key in front of Reese and opened the car door: "Besides, I have the key myself."

"Dodge Challenger, is this Dominic Toretto's car?" Riese showed a surprised expression: "I didn't know you still had a relationship with him."

"There are a lot of things you don't know, but I don't have time to explain them to you one by one. Do you want to get in the car?"

Ron had already started the car, and Reese nodded: "Of course."

Downstairs of Decima Company, when Ron and Reese arrived, several cars were already parked here. Seeing this, the two hurriedly took the elevator upstairs. When they arrived at the office, Finch was already gone. There was only one figure of an old man, standing in front of his desk, looking at the codes on the paper that came out of the printer, and thinking alone.

"I guess you must be curious about who I am?" The old man turned around, his originally calm expression showed a hint of panic after seeing Ron: "Ron, why are you here?!"

"The purpose is the same as yours, of course it is also to find clues about the machine," Ron sneered: "I thought that Nameless Doe was missing and you would all be busy looking for him, but I didn't expect that you still have time to look for the machine here. Don't tell I, the purpose of your search for the machine is also to get the Nameless One back."

"Of course, if you believe me...just kill him!" The old man was mid-sentence, and suddenly he ducked under the table. From behind several load-bearing pillars in the office, a dozen NSA agents came out and pointed their guns at him. Ron and Reese.

Fortunately, they were well prepared. Before the old man could finish speaking, Ron and Reese pounced on both sides.

"Bang, bang, bang..." The bullets hit the wall behind them, and had no effect except adding a few bullet holes in the wall.

Ron got behind a pillar and followed him until he hit a pile of cement residue on the pillar. Ron suddenly took off his coat and threw it to the right. At the same time, he dodged out from the left. There was only one gap between the two. 0.1 seconds.

"Bang bang bang..." The agents quickly punched a row of bullet holes in Ron's coat, but the ordinary shooting revealed their position. Bourne's pistol quickly locked on several locations where the fire had just appeared, and with a movement of his fingers , several agents fell to the ground with a bloody hole in the middle of their heads.

"Da da da……"

A ball of fire suddenly flashed in the corner. Ron quickly dodged and regained his position behind the pillar. The bullet almost grazed his face: "Damn it, it's an assault rifle! Reese, work!"

Ron yelled, and Rise, who had just hid under the table, suddenly stood up and fired a string of bullets in the direction of the assault rifle. Without waiting for the other party to react, he quickly retracted under the table. Facts have proved that his decision was very wise.

He had just squatted down, and there were agents who had already locked onto his position and fired continuously at his position. If he hadn't squatted down quickly enough, he would have been killed by now.

"There are too many of them! They also have heavy firepower! We must retreat!\

,"Ron tentatively extended his pistol out of the pillar, and as soon as he fired a shot, he was met with a dense firestorm of countless gunshots. He was so frightened that he quickly retracted his hand: "Okay, you're right."

Ron reached into his pocket and took out two flash bombs and a smoke bomb, pulled out the safety and hit the wall in front of him hard.

Three grenades were on the wall, and one quickly rebounded and hit the agents.

"BOOM!" At the same time as the grenade exploded, Ron rolled on the spot, rolled behind the table where Rise was hiding, grabbed him by the collar and ran towards the door. While Rise was being dragged away by Ron, he shot at Rise with two pistols. The agents fired alternately from behind, and the continuous firepower overwhelmed the agents. They couldn't raise their heads. When he ran out of bullets, they finally escaped into the elevator.

"Huh~" The elevator door closed, and Ron took a long breath and shouted angrily: "I have never been so embarrassed in Los Angeles! What happened to your location tracking? Is Finch really in this building? ?”

"Wait, he just moved," Reese glanced at the tracking signal on his phone: "This direction is... the New Los Angeles Library?"

With long-term cooperation experience, Reese immediately judged Finch's next target.

"Ron, don't worry about the agents above. We must hurry up and rescue Finch now."

"OK, let's go rescue Finch now, but we can't ignore these bastards, otherwise they won't know whose territory this is!" Ron looked bitterly at the bright windows upstairs, where they had just escaped. Come out where the office is.

Reise stopped in front of Ron worriedly: "But time is urgent now, we should hurry up to rescue Finch. There are only two of us. Who knows if there will be others there, we can't be separated."

"Who said we were going to separate? Who said there were just two of us?" Ron took off Rise's hand, took out his phone, and sent two messages: "Okay, let's go now."

"Who did you send the message to just now? Our foreign aid?" Riese asked curiously while sitting in the car.

"To be precise, it's my subordinates and friends. I don't know why, but you always have the illusion that I am a lonely hero like you, but you ignore that I also have a lot of powerful subordinates." Ron drove, While showing off proudly: "Now, it's their turn to be unlucky."

At the IRS Special Operations Team's Los Angeles headquarters, Hank and Arthur stood up excitedly at the same time: "Brothers, we have work to do with BOSS's information!"

Not to be outdone, the two glared at each other. In the workshop office, a group of equally murderous warriors also picked up their weapons and stood up.

Several elderly people who were playing cards in the basement looked at the messages on their mobile phones, threw away their cards, and hung all kinds of murder weapons all over their bodies: "It's really troublesome. We have to let the elderly go out to work in the middle of the night."

There were complaints on the lips, but excitement in the eyes.

On the other side, in a garage surrounded by all kinds of sports cars, a bald man suddenly turned off the music and shouted loudly to the people having a party: "Family members, take your guys with me now. A family, Ron needs help, WE ARE logging tired!"

…

Tonight in Los Angeles is destined to be a sleepless night.