Long-term salvation

"What's the cause of this riot?" Woods lit a cigarette, opened the car window a little, and looked wistfully at the police car parked on the street. "Why does the atmosphere today feel a bit familiar to me... just like the last bank robbery, with a rioting crowd, police everywhere, fierce gunfire, and a lot of people who will be arrested."

"Just make sure we aren't the ones arrested," Mason replied angrily. "Damn the FBI! I didn't know they were capable of lynchings in the 90s!"

"That's Chicago, guys, Chicago! A place where there are more gangsters than government employees!"

Adler angrily slapped the steering wheel, defending his most embarrassing action, but this obviously only made his companions more sad. After a few minutes of silence, the communicator rang, and the voice of Alexander Conklin, the operations director who was meeting with Adler and his team, came from it:

"We've already figured out the whole story... Jason Bourne was in the car that caused the commotion, along with the young man connected to the Atlas Corporation. The latter has a huge bounty on his head from the ICA. Almost all the ICA assassins in Europe have been concentrated in Paris, along with some of our own personnel—but not only that, but unknown forces have also joined in and caused even greater unrest. Perhaps the Soviet KGB seized the opportunity."

Was it related to Atlas? And the KGB? Adler raised an eyebrow, feeling that his luck had finally turned.

"Where are those people now?"

Adler interrupted Conklin rudely, leaving an angry silence on the other end of the line:

"Look, I don't care about your affairs, good or bad, as long as they weren't mixed up with those poor bastards who liked to drink antifreeze. Now, tell me everything you know, and I'll give you the body you want."

"...The target is passing through District 6 and heading towards District 14, but we don't know why they're heading there. Furthermore, it's approaching dusk and the weather is bad. Don't miss the target."

"Okay, I understand. Adler, end the call."

Adler turned off the communication and exhaled slowly. He turned his head and saw the surprised expression on Woods' face:

"See what I said? You should have come to Paris!"

"You clearly just wanted to come here to eat something good," Adler gave him a middle finger, his mood brightening considerably. "Never mind, since God is blessing us so much, let's go over and take a look... Has the information system been synchronized?"

"It'll take... a dozen more seconds. The signal isn't very good. This is an ATC product," Mason slapped the data terminal on his arm. "It's far inferior to Atlas's similar product. Could the idiot in the CIA's procurement department be taking kickbacks?"

"They've been eating the CIA since its inception, but this time there's a real reason for it—Atlas is moving factories and assets overseas and reducing its support for some congressmen and government projects."

Adler said calmly. He took the weapon bag handed to him by Mason in the back seat, adjusted his bulletproof vest, opened the car door, and got out, explaining to the two men as he walked:

"There were a lot of people within the government who were unhappy about this, and they were starting to work with ATC and Umbrella, and there was also a hard-line senator rising up... Steven Armstrong."

"It's been such an eventful time."

Woods shook his head and looked into the distance.

At this moment, it was almost dusk, and because of the gloomy sky, even though the street lights and the lights in the nearby skyscrapers were lit one by one, and even though the city skyline was almost reflected red and blue by the flashing police lights, the three of them did not feel a trace of light. They only felt that they were stepping into a dark and unknown world.

Looking down at the data terminal on his arm, Mason saw that the target location had been sent over - it was not the most accurate, but only a reference location - through the backdoor, the CIA secretly retrieved the surveillance data of the French police, identified Bourne's face from those complicated faces, analyzed and integrated it, and thus summarized a trajectory of action.

"We have to hurry, Adler. Not only are the ICA assassins on their way," Mason said sternly, "but also the people from Project Treadstone. I don't think they'll show any mercy to our targets."

"You are right, let's act immediately."

When Adler and the other two walked into this historic residential area, they soon realized something was wrong - faint gunshots were coming from the front, which seemed to be the sound of an exchange of fire on the floor, not far away, only one floor away.

After exchanging a glance, Adler and his men ran to the side of the building. Half-knelt in the corner, they pulled out their guns, carrying gear, and hoods from their weapon packs. After arming themselves, the three of them formed a long, straight line and quickly advanced toward the source of the gunfire.

In just two or three minutes, the gunfire suddenly became more intense!

Both sides of the exchange of fire had fierce automatic firepower. The bullets passed through the air, making sharp whistling sounds and causing some screams to be heard from the rooms in the residential buildings, but soon those human voices became low, and it was obvious that they had realized their situation.

This is not good news for Adler - the French will come over and they are very angry now.

"Conklin, have your men stop the French police," Adler said on the communication channel. "Don't let them interfere with our operation. There are already two groups of unknown forces exchanging fire here!"

"Remember to say 'please' next time, and besides, the work is already underway."

"...Damn it," Woods cursed softly, "Who does he think he is? He's asking the CIA Deputy Director to personally come and tell us to do the job, and this is his attitude?"

"That means he thinks we're dead, Woods."

Adler finished smoking his last cigarette before the battle, threw the half-smoked cigarette under his feet, and stomped it out hard, almost crushing it into the gap between the bricks and stones.

"We carry out our mission and ignore the infighting within the bureau. They will always know what to do."

"Tsk, damn these politicians."

The trio continued to move forward and soon noticed a truck parked in a narrow street. Several soldiers in black combat uniforms were firing short bursts of fire in the other direction. The latter responded with fierce firepower, almost completely suppressing these people on both sides of the car body.

But soon, a figure as nimble as a cheetah burst out of the dense darkness. He leaped from the window of a residential building, leaped onto the top of a truck amidst the flashes of gunfire, and then jumped to the middle of the soldiers on the left side of the truck. His smooth fighting skills tore through the soldiers' formation, causing them to subconsciously shoot at the figure but only hit their own kidnapped companions. But this was only the prelude to the beginning of the death harvest:

The shadow twisted his body, took out a pistol and fired repeatedly, breaking an arm and hitting an Adam's apple. Amid the sound of gunfire and choking breaths - this shadow - the man named Jason Bourne shot the soldiers on the left side of the truck one by one, and then threw a grenade to the bottom of the truck.

A deafening explosion was heard immediately, and deadly metal fragments cut through the air, making a whistling sound comparable to gunfire. The burning truck spewed out thick smoke and flames, and the hot shock wave rushed past Bourne, who was hiding by the wall, leaving only dancing flames.

Adler silently withdrew his gaze, shrank back, looked back at Woods and Mason, and said seriously:

"Let's go find our own goal and forget about that damn 'stumbling block'!"

"That makes sense." / "A wise decision."

But it seemed like a joke from God. Adler had just taken a few steps when he heard faint footsteps approaching. He stopped abruptly, nearly causing Woods and Mason behind him to stumble. Almost at the same time, the person behind him also noticed someone nearby and stopped moving.

Adler raised his left palm, signaling his two companions to step back, while he took out a small mirror and held it close to the ground, extending it carefully and slowly - just as he saw a few strong men in civilian clothes, the mirror was lifted up and knocked away by a man wearing a skull mask.

The next second, Adler heard a voice shouting:

"Damn it, it's the ICA killer!"

What the hell? !

Last time he was a bank robber, this time he's an ICA assassin, right?!

Leaning against a dusty wall covered in bullets, Adler took a deep breath. All he wanted now was to use a loud speaker to yell at everyone:

"I'm a CIA agent, not a damn bank robber, let alone one of those damn killers!!!"

No one paid any attention to Adler's inner anger. CIA agents, ICA assassins, Umbrella security forces, Task Force 141, and Rhodes were fighting in this dark and damp night before the rain.

"What else could I possibly encounter tonight? A two-meter-tall biochemically modified giant?!"

Adler is also a big fan of Warhammer board games, and he's particularly fond of the Alpha Legion.

Chapter 194: Paris: Fierce Pursuit (3K)

Adler was completely certain that this was Gotham.

In this building, the Adler trio was exchanging gunfire with people across the corridor, while in another building, ICA assassins, armed men from unknown forces, and the target person were fighting each other. Explosions of varying sizes were heard one after another, and orange-red flames crawled down the walls. The residents had already fled... or met with a more tragic fate.

"Adler, let me go around to the other floors. How many people are there?!"

Mason patted Adler on the shoulder. Adler gritted his teeth, thrust his gun out, and fired a few blind rounds before replying:

"Don't go! We need to retreat. We can't stay here any longer. This group of people is too highly trained and is using NATO weapons. I suspect they were sent by Atlas Corporation to carry out the evacuation of the 'target individual'... Let's retreat temporarily. This place is not in our favor."

That being said, how should they retreat? The previously intense fire suppression had weakened, but this was not because the enemy lacked ammunition. Instead, they were also deploying forces to circumvent the rear and flanks, even using rappelling gear for unexpected attacks!

The remaining enemies kept firing, sometimes fast, sometimes slow bursts. The thunderous gunshots echoed through the corridors, piercing Adler's ears like thorns. He no longer fired back, but threw a grenade, stood up, and ran towards the backs of Mason and Woods.

The next second, the sound of explosions and smoke rushed out along the corridor, spreading into the distance in the gloomy night of Paris, and merging into the shrill sound of sirens.

Adler had just run to the bottom of the stairs when three bullets hit the edge of the wall next to him, sending sparks flying and gravel flying, scratching the CIA agent's face. He had no time to fight back and could only throw himself around the corner in embarrassment.

"madman!"

Adler cursed—these people had immediately launched a pursuit after the grenade exploded. Just how confident were they in their abilities?! Elite personnel of this caliber could only come from the armed forces of a superpower, battle-hardened and incredibly experienced!

As soon as he ran down the stairs, Adler heard gunshots from the other end of the corridor, along with Mason's angry screams when he was injured. Woods passed his companions and used the firepower of his MP5 to temporarily suppress the enemy who was ambushing there.

A grenade rolled in, but was thrown out of the building by the quick-eyed and quick-handed Woods. Almost at the moment he withdrew his hand, the shock wave of the explosion spread out in all directions, carrying the steel balls, tearing through the air barrier, and brushed past Woods' hair with a whistling sound, leaving several bleeding wounds.

"Oh, damn it!"

Seeing this, Adler glanced back towards the stairs, fired a few shots at the vague figure, then leaned against Mason and whispered, "What's that?"

"How are things going with you and Woods?"

"It penetrated the muscle but didn't hurt the bone. Luckily I didn't rush fast enough...Woods?"

"It's just a superficial wound, but there's a lot of blood flowing, which affects my vision."

"It looks like we'll have to explain ourselves here today."

Adler said calmly, he looked outside - this was the fourth floor, and if they jumped down they would break bones, and what was worse was that they did not carry suitable explosives to blow open the metal doors to enter the house and take shelter.

Mason sighed and said nothing. They really didn't have time to open the door, but what would they do if they did? Would they jump out of the window, or would they fight it out inside and wait for the CIA to rescue them?

Time! Time!

Thinking of this, the top CIA agent slowly exhaled and said to his companions:

"Let's surrender."

"what?!"

"What stupid things are you talking about again?"

"Surrender, survive. There's always a chance if I'm alive, but if I die, there's really no chance of a comeback." Adler pulled a cigarette from his pocket and held it between his teeth, rolling the yellow filter back and forth between his teeth, as if that could vent his anger and resentment. "Now I'm betting that the people on the other side are Atlas Company troops—damn it, I have to rely on the enemy's mercy and indifference to survive! And they're the ones we're investigating!"

"Tell me first, is this a true surrender or a fake one?" Mason asked as he tended to his wounds. "Don't let me misunderstand you."

"Really surrender... Listen to the gunfire around us, brothers, we have no chance. It's too chaotic here and we don't have enough support. The terrain is not good enough for us to shake off the pursuers."

Amidst the occasional gunshots, an annoying silence gradually spread. Half a minute later, Woods spoke:

"I agree, but you'd better have something to say, Adler."

"I'll try my best," Adler took out the unlit cigarette from his mouth, threw it under his feet and crushed it, then shouted loudly:

"Cease fire! We surrender! We are not those damn ICA killers!"

After saying this, Adler threw his weapon to the stairs, along with his belongings.

The gunshots suddenly stopped, followed by faint footsteps coming from different directions. Adler and Woods looked at each other and gestured - there were indeed five people.

"Put your hands up and go to the stairs and report your unit!" a voice shouted.

"..."

Adler took a few deep breaths, motioned Woods and Mason to stay where they were, raised his hands, and slowly walked to the stairs. He then saw a figure flash past above.

"Take off your hood and let me see your face!"

Adler had no choice but to do as he was told.

A few seconds later, a man slowly walked down the stairs with a pistol in hand and a playful smile on his face:

"Report to your unit!"

"Fuck... Damn James Bond!" Adler breathed a sigh of relief. Just as he was about to put his hands down, he was shot at his feet. The smile on Bond's face remained unchanged, but his eyes were a little colder. Suppressing the anger in his heart, Adler said aloud:

"CIA."

"Oh~~Our ally, the most insane agent in the CIA, Russell Adler, what are you doing here? Traveling to Paris?"

"...MI6 wants to protect that silver-haired kid?"

The second shot hit Adler next to his left foot, making the latter's face completely gloomy.

"Listen, mad dog, get back to your kennel now," James Bond said calmly. "Although as a British person I feel that the French are a greater threat than the Soviets, this is Europe, not a place where you can act recklessly. I have some intelligence that I need to confirm with that person."

"I will leave here and report everything here to headquarters."

"up to you."

This was definitely a tense situation, but Adler felt relieved in addition to being angry - although the people who came were not on good terms with him, at least they were not Atlas or the Soviets. Wait, if that was the case, then who was the armed man from an unknown force?

Soviets? That didn't seem like it. If they were Soviets, why would they engage in a firefight with the target? And then— Suddenly, a name Adler had heard before popped into his mind:

Mobius.

Adler felt completely confused, with all sorts of possibilities popping up in his mind one after another. But before he could sort them out, he was bumped by Woods and Mason, and the hood in his hand fell to the ground.

"Calm down! What are you doing?!"

Before he could explain, Woods and Mason, looking terrified, each carrying Adler, ran upstairs. Bond was stunned, and the next second, everyone knew why:

Golden lines of fire cut through the darkness of the corridor, so hot yet emitting such a cold murderous intent. The explosion followed the metal storm, and the air waves progressed layer by layer, rolling the dust and fog into several clearly visible long dragons, imprinting everyone's face with dim light and shadow.

The light did not last long, and stopped after just a few seconds. It was followed by the sound of heavy footsteps, again and again, making everyone panic!

"Run! That monster has a Gatling gun!" Woods screamed. He had never known he could make such a sharp cry - only his wife could make it when she saw a cockroach. "And there's a bazooka too, and it's coming!"

The heavy footsteps, accompanied by the approaching tremors, filled Adler's face with confusion and surprise. Only Bond and Captain Price had a gloomy look on their faces besides surprise. They looked at each other and said:

"Adler, you will all move with us from now on. This is not an enemy we can easily kill."

"What do you know?!" Adler asked in surprise. He had never seen such a panicked expression on the faces of his old friends. "What kind of weird thing broke in here again?!"