"I don't believe it," he said. "I don't believe that your agents had a mess when they sneaked into Langley, nor did I believe that William was in the way. Victoria Hand, I know you, don't lie to me."

"It's just a little euphemism, Frank Custer." Victoria Hand frowned. She felt that the dirty water splashed on the ground could seep into her high-heeled leather shoes at any time. She hated this feeling. She should have stood on the clean and tidy deck of the aircraft carrier command room to give orders, but for this mission, she had to come to the bad environment in Clinton, known as the Hell Kitchen. "William Roslin, Orange Agent... His mission was CIA's Black Operation. He completed this mission and obtained his current position. The CIA taught local farmers to grow poppy, roughly processed and then transported it back to the country. He was related to a drug trafficking case in New York. Someone once sent the CIA agents responsible for drug trafficking in New York to the police station, and then-"

“——And then released on bail?”

Victoria Hand nodded.

"Yes, the agent got into a black car after leaving the police station, and we couldn't find out the information about that car," she said. "According to the video surveillance along the road, we found the agent's body in the Hudson River. If you want to know the cause of death, it was strangled. If you want to find out the whole thing, you have to work with us, Frank Custer. The fight alone won't be done, and the truth you are facing is not that simple."

"William Roslin?"

"Orange Agent William Rosling refused to submit, and we were in a hurry." Victoria Hand shrugged, "so we took his head away, keeping his brain active while digging information from it. I know this sounds incredible, but by the time the search is complete, William Rosling will tell you everything."

"I'll join." Victoria couldn't see Frank Custer's expression, he kept his head down. However, she knew that he had moved the gun away. "Whatever your master wants, I'll join. Just don't let that kind of thing come to me anymore."

"You can't promise this kind of thing casually, Frank!" David Lieberman, the former National Security Bureau intelligence analyst nicknamed "Chip", shouted and jumped from the chair with his messy curly hair. "We don't know what those people from unknown origins want! Maybe they just want to find out how many of us have and kill us all! Are you sure that you haven't been followed? You didn't say my name! Is there?"

Frank Custer just glanced at his temporary partner and continued to sit on the old sofa bed and rubbed his own sccy cpx-2 micro pistol. He negotiated with Victoria Hand with this pocket pistol, but he hadn't taken it out once.

"Those people contacted you through your number, right? Are you sure you didn't tell them your phone number?"

Frank glanced at him.

"Really? Give me your phone quickly." David Lieberman stretched out his hand. Facing Frank's puzzled eyes, he suddenly became irritable, "Don't ask why, I feel like giving me that damn phone!" Frank did it silently. The chip, that is, David Lieberman simply broke the phone, took out the SIM card and inserted it into an instrument that Frank didn't know what it was for. After a while of unknown reason, it was far beyond Frank's knowledge-based knocking.

After fighting, David Lieberman relaxed. "You need to change a number." He said, "Since I can track you, those people can also locate your location through your mobile phone number. I don't want to expose it here. You have to be careful. Many people want us to die. We are like an island on the sea, with sharks in the sea. Even guys who look like dolphins cannot trust, because no one knows what they want to fuck..."

"They are people from S.H.E.L.D.," Frank Custer interrupted David's increasingly outrageous words. He said in a deep voice, "What they want is me, they want me to train soldiers for them."

"SHIELD?! Well, we're related to terrorists now!" David Lieberman fell to his swivel chair as if he was drained of his strength, almost throwing his cotton slippers out. He looked up at the light tube above his head, "What should I do now? Follow the command of those SHIELD?"

Frank Custerer remained silent and picked up the next gun and wiped it up. There were many weapons he had to maintain. When he reached an agreement with Victoria Hand, he received assistance from the Immortal City - the way of providing assistance was complicated and safe. In total, three used vans were replaced, enough to make Frank Custer's suspicion feel safe. In addition to conventional firearms and rocket launchers, Victoria Hand also gave him a mysterious suitcase, which was a weapon that could only be used several times. Frank Custer couldn't figure out how to disassemble this thing, so he took the instruction manual to study it carefully. "Heavy hydrogen heating, magnetic constraints, plasma, particle accelerator... and threw it at the enemy after three use... David, how high is the temperature of the solar flare? F*uck!"

"About tens of millions of Kelvins? I don't know, why are you asking about this?

Frank Custer threw away the manual and pointed to the weapon in the suitcase. "You can't believe that this thing is said to be able to release energy that can reach the temperature of the solar flare."

"Did they give you a high-tech thing?" David jumped up and tried to stay away from that suitcase. "It sounded like a bomb!"

"I don't think they want my life, they don't need to do that." Frank pointed to the file on the table with his chin. "They will hand me a document, probably the CIA's Black Operation, and the [Operation Hellhound] I participated in is just one of them. The CIA has many such operations, and the Orange Agent is just one of them. But that's not my business, they promised to give me information."

"Do you believe them?"

"No, but they can help. That's enough."

David shrugged and touched his beard that he hadn't shaved for a long time. "Do you know? There's no need to pay for your whole life, Frank. I investigated this to meet Sarah one day, and you can start your new life after that."

Frank Custer was silent.

"You don't have to show me this tough face, Frank," said David. "Have you ever thought about life after this is over? Well? Don't tell me you don't."

"No, I dream of my family every day, David. I dream of them dying in front of me every day, blood and brains splashing on my face as hot as magma. I can't do anything, I can only watch them be killed." David saw Frank's skin turn red, and the blood vessels on his neck were like a miniature bomb installed, almost exploded. Even so, Frank Custer did not vent his violence and anger, but forced himself to sit on the damn eighteen-hand sofa chair, roaring with anger and a low voice that almost burned his skin. "No, David, I won't think about it before revenge. I need their blood and their pain, otherwise I can't fall asleep peacefully. Do you understand, David, do you understand?"
Chapter completed!