I'm a spy in the film

"Are you Stasa's friend?" As if they had discussed it beforehand, the two asked at the same time.

"It's me, what's your name?" They said in unison again.

This is a bit awkward. It's really weird to be on the same wavelength as a grown man.

Fortunately, Bourne was wearing sunglasses while driving, so his expression could not be seen, and the bald guy lying in the back seat, whose originally pale face now looked a little rosy.

"How are you?"

After a brief silence, Bourne spoke first, because the man's face looked very abnormal. Bourne was afraid that he was having a last-ditch attack. After all, according to Stella, the bald man had been shot two days ago.

"I won't die!" As if the wound was affected, a layer of sweat broke out on Bald Brother's bald head, but he gritted his teeth and said it.

"Hold on for ten minutes. Sit still!"

Seeing that he was in a very bad condition, Bourne did not hesitate, gave him a warning, and stepped hard on the accelerator with his right foot.

The Chevrolet's engine made a dull roar, and the tires spun rapidly, rubbing against the smooth cobblestone road, making a harsh sound.

Bald Brother's face changed. As an experienced driver, he knew that this was a sign that the car was about to speed up. Damn it, this is a city area. Do you want to get caught by the cops by driving so fast?

Although he was furious in his heart, his body still responded in the most correct way. The bald brother put his feet on the back of the front seat and held the seat belt tightly with his hands.

Sure enough, the next second, the black Chevrolet plunged into an alley on the side of the road like a mad beast.

Rob, leaning against the back seat, felt that he was not sitting in a car, but a big turntable in a children's playground, which kept changing direction, turning left and right, forward and backward. Even though he was an experienced driver, he was dizzy from the continuous rotation.

I don’t know how long it took, but the car stopped in front of a seaside villa in southwest Los Angeles.

"Hey, man, how do you feel?" Bourne unbuckled his seat belt, looked back at the bald brother and asked with concern.

"You can call me Rob," Rob took a few breaths, a gleam in his eyes.

Although the car turned frequently just now, the body was always stable, with almost no major bumps. Moreover, through the car window, Rob noticed that the car mostly passed through back streets and alleys, where there were few vehicles and many pedestrians, but the car was able to maintain a high speed and almost no sudden braking. This shows that the boy in front of him not only has a quick reaction and can skillfully control the vehicle, but is also familiar with the terrain. Then, their plan lacks such a skilled local!

Bourne stretched out his hand and waved it in front of Rob's eyes. Just now, while they were talking, Rob suddenly stopped talking and looked straight in the eyes, which really scared Bourne. But when he looked closely, he found that the other person's breathing was a little rapid but still steady. Only then did he feel relieved.

At this time, the door of the villa garage slowly opened and Bourne drove the car in.

Bourne helped Rob out of the car, and there was a wheelchair in the corner of the garage. He pushed open the inner door of the garage and pushed Rob into the villa, where they finally met the private doctor that Stasha had arranged with him, Dr. Lecter.

This doctor is also an acquaintance.

Yes, it was Dr. Hannibal Lecter who performed surgery on the little boy in London with the help of Bourne.

When he saw Bourne, Dr. Lecter's eyes seemed to light up.

"Dr. Lecter, please see the patient first."

Bourne was helpless. Ever since he demonstrated the Door of Wonders' skill of speeding up recovery on a little boy in London last time, Dr. Lecter seemed to have developed a great interest in him. He even gave him a business card before leaving, but it only had contact information but no address.

Now, the other party didn’t contact me, but I brought him to my door.

Although he was a little out of control when they first met, Dr. Lecter still showed great professionalism. He pushed Rob into a room inside that was decorated like an operating room.

Bourne helped carry Rob to the operating table. Dr. Lecter carefully examined the wound, which was a gunshot wound in the lower abdomen. The bullet was removed by Rob himself on the day he was shot, but because he had been hiding from place to place for the past two days and had not received effective treatment, the wound had become infected.

"It's not a big deal. You just need to remove the dead flesh on the outer layer of the wound, inject some medicine, and rest for three to six months. You will be fine. But you can't drink alcohol or do strenuous exercise during this time!"

Dr. Lecter is a man of action. He said that he had prepared all the tools needed for the operation and would start the operation as soon as he gave Rob anesthesia.

"Wait, doctor, you just said that it will take half a year to recover?" Rob struggled to get up. "No, I have something very important to do recently, and I can't wait half a year. Doctor, can you temporarily control my wound so that it will not get worse, and then treat it after half a month?"

Rob's tone was very firm. Hearing his words, Dr. Lecter, who was already wearing a mask, was stunned at first. Then he raised his head and looked at Bourne with burning eyes.

Bourne, who was sitting in a chair nearby waiting to watch the operation, also raised his head and met Dr. Lecter's eyes. He instantly understood what Dr. Lecter meant:

"Do you want to use your special healing skills again?"

Bourne was also struggling, but he quickly made a decision.

Facing Dr. Lecter's expectant eyes, Bourne walked to the other side of the operating table and said, "Rob, are you tight-lipped?"

Rob turned his head and looked at Bourne in surprise, not understanding what he meant. What did this have to do with treating his injuries?

However, looking at the serious expressions of the two, he still said, "I will never betray anyone who has helped me! I guarantee it with my steering wheel!"

Foreigners are really strange. When they swear, the people they swear to are all kinds of strange.

Bourne chose to believe it. He said, "I need to know what you are going to do. I just need a rough idea, but I have to make sure that what you are going to do does not violate my morals. Only then can I decide whether to save you or not!"

"What do you mean?" Rob was completely confused. You are just an errand driver. What's the point of talking about whether to save him or not? The doctor is here... He turned his head to look at Dr. Blake, but saw that the doctor wearing a big mask not only did not object, but nodded in agreement.

"Don't worry that I will report you," Bourne shook his head, took out his ID from his pocket and flashed it in front of Rob, then pointed at Dr. Blake opposite him, "The doctor who is about to perform the operation on you is a specially hired consultant and psychologist for the FBI's forensic department! If we were to report you, you would have been arrested long ago!"

"Gibberish." If he hadn't been lying on the operating table, if the pain from the wound on his abdomen hadn't been unbearable, Rob would have burst into a swear. Of course, as a British gentleman, his good upbringing made him hold back the swear words that were about to come out of his mouth, but he was even more confused. He felt that his trip to the United States was a mistake. Americans are all psychopaths. The American who hired him as a coach was a terrorist. He encountered a shooting while walking down the street. His friend hired an FBI driver, and even the underground black doctor was an FBI consultant!

This is too outrageous! Can't everyone's identities be simpler?

Rob's head rested weakly on the operating table. His brain was spinning rapidly. He finally said, "I can tell you, but can you guarantee that I can move freely all day on a certain day in half a month?"

"Okay, you can only trust us now." Bourne said calmly.