"Are you an angel?"
The girl in Jack's arms was neither Alexis nor Kim, but she was no less beautiful, with a supermodel figure, the kind where legs were all legs from the neck down.
Though still a little disoriented, she seemed to understand Jack was there to save her, and her voice was pleasant, so soft and delicate it hardly sounded like a girl.
"I'm just a passerby."
Hearing she spoke in Russian, Jack lifted his knee and gently rested it against her perfectly smooth hip, freeing his hands to replace the second magazine in his SR-2M "Heather." Then, scooping the girl up in his arms, he continued in Russian, "What's your name?"
"Anna, Anna Sergeeva." The girl clutched Jack's jacket tightly, her fingers so tight that her knuckles turned slightly white.
"Thank you for saving me."
"You're welcome, but I'm curious. Why would someone from the FSB (Russian Federal Security Service) show up in a situation like this? Was they double-crossed?"
Jack's lips curled into a smile. They'd been using Russian weapons throughout this operation, intending to confuse the enemy. And then, by sheer coincidence, a Russian female agent showed up. Wasn't that just the scapegoat?
He'd been unsure earlier because the spotlight was too bright, but now, looking at the girl's long, almost silver-blonde hair, he remembered a spy film he'd seen in a past life. It seemed to be called "Anna."
The girl's lithe body tensed for a moment, but that was all; she didn't move. It seemed the drugs in her system were quite potent.
"Who are you? CIA, MI6, or Mossad?" Her voice suddenly grew cold and hard after Jack revealed her identity.
"I told you I'm just a passerby, here to help. It was an accident that I recognized you." Jack pulled the trigger, knocking the two bodyguards who had rushed in from the stage entrance to the ground. He instinctively lowered his head and asked curiously.
But this time, he saw a different view. The only artificial thing on the girl's body was her high heels. Her body was spread out, revealing everything that was necessary and unnecessary.
Did the Russian intelligence have some special training techniques? How did this figure grow up? She had very little flesh on her body, yet she was bearing fruit like a slender branch. Especially now, lying on her back, her body trembling and trembling, it was obvious she was the real deal.
Jack felt a burning sensation in his stomach and quickly changed the subject. "Would you mind explaining the situation? Was it some kind of special infiltration method, or was there some kind of accident?"
Anna's breath hitched slightly, as if someone had brought up some unpleasant memory. After a moment, she muffled her response, "I'm a model. I just had an accident."
Jack didn't remember this scene from the original play. It seemed like another interpretation of this world.
The original series "Anna" is a rare female-themed spy film that has received relatively good reviews. It's a typical R-rated film, with numerous twists but poor logic.
Perhaps because the director and screenwriter are French, Luc Besson, the show not only takes the usual swipe at the KGB but also the CIA.
If the film were to be rated 10 out of 10, 9 points could be attributed to the female lead's graceful figure and youthful appearance, while the remaining 1 point goes to the unexpected but difficult-to-understand plot twists.
The female lead's loyalty to the FSB comes across as minimal, her sole desire being to complete her one-year mission, secure her freedom, and retire to Hawaii.
Instead, she's repeatedly coerced and exploited by a high-ranking FSB official and the CIA. Both sides value Anna's killing prowess and intelligence value more than her beauty.
So, Jack, without hesitation, reveals the man's identity. He doesn't have the luxury of slowly explaining himself to gain his trust, just to create a sense of intimidation.
He didn't have any hidden identities worth revealing anyway, so he might as well leave a clue now, perhaps for some unexpected gain.
"So, being a model was just your cover, and it ended up attracting some malicious individuals, and then you got yourself into trouble?"
Jack chuckled as he speculated. Even as he spoke, his hands kept moving. He dodged an incoming bullet and then, with a backhanded volley, blew the head off a bodyguard who dared to show his face.
"My agent sold me out. They drugged my favorite teabags," Anna bit her lip, revealing the truth with a rather shameful expression.
"Understandable." Jack leaned against the stage entrance, listening intently. From behind, he could hear the crackle of submachine gunfire and screams; it seemed Frank and Brian were almost there.
"You could actually put me down. I should be able to walk on my own," Anna's voice returned to its usual soft, weak tone.
Jack didn't bother to be polite with her and put her down directly. Although this way of holding her allowed him to see the boundless beauty of spring when he lowered his head, it also seemed like he was putting her in front of him to block bullets.
"Jack?" As the gunfire outside subsided, Frank's bald head appeared at the doorway.
He quickly peered in to observe the situation inside before half-revealing himself to guard the doorway. Without turning back, he declared, "It's safe outside." "
Give me a minute," Jack said, pulling an injection from a small pouch on his other side of his waist and injecting half of it into Anna's terrified eyes .
"It's just adrenaline," he explained, then began to undress.
Putting on the man's shirt and bulletproof vest, Anna followed Jack with a complicated expression, holding the Viper he had handed her.
She wondered if this was some kind of elaborate heroic rescue, but Jack's immediate revelation of her identity was a bit unexpected, leaving her unsure of what he was up to.
The screams continued from the back of the hallway. Meanwhile, Brian, desperate to save his daughter, charged forward. By the time Frank, Jack, and Anna arrived, he had already single-handedly slashed through the entire backstage hallway, cornering Patrice St. Clair.
"We can definitely find a way to fix this. I understand how you feel, sir. We need to talk, okay? There's definitely a solution." Brian raised his hand and shot the man in the shoulder. "Where are my daughters?"
"Ah!" Patrice St. Clair, dressed rather respectably, screamed and fell to the ground, clutching her shoulder. "They're next door. All the girls are locked up inside.
Sir, I don't know which one is your daughter, but I assure you I won't harm them. Please forgive me."
Jack, standing at the doorway, heard this and turned, opened the next door and fired a shot.
An elderly woman, hiding behind the two girls with a dagger, with only half her head visible, fell to the ground without a word. The momentum of her body dragged down the two girls, still under the influence of drugs, with her. One of them was Kim.
"Come and help!" Jack called back to Anna, ripping the curtain hanging behind the girls in half and draping it over the girls.
Behind the ripped curtains, two large iron cages were revealed, with a dressing table beside them. Several shivering girls were imprisoned in these cages.
The left cage bore a sign reading "Sold," while the right read "Unsold." The girls in the right cage were still somewhat clothed, while those on the left were draped in a barely concealing veil.
"Jack!" Alexis, who had heard the noises outside and had been clinging to the iron bars, peeked out at the murderous presence and exclaimed in surprise.
Perhaps Jack had arrived just in time, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
Alexis was the only girl left in the right cage. Glancing at the dressing table, he had a vague idea of the procedure. Each girl was assigned a price based on her looks, age, and purity, with the younger and prettier ones being placed last.
Then the girls will be taken out of the cage after receiving an injection, and the old woman will take off their clothes and put them on the dressing table to put on makeup, and then they will be sent to the stage for bidding.
After the bidding is completed, the girls will be brought back here, covered with tulle of different colors representing different prices, and wait to be picked up.
Including Alexis and Kim, uh, and Anna, there are a total of 8 girls in the room.
After smashing the lock and releasing Alexis, Jack held her shoulders and whispered a few words of comfort. This girl is very brave. Except for being a little excited at the beginning, she quickly calmed down.
At this time, Anna opened a box full of girls' clothes. Jack just glanced at it. It was a big box full, enough for at least 20 or 30 girls. Leaving the room and closing the door, Jack allowed Alexis and Anna to help the other girls dress. He nodded to Frank and Brian, who were waiting at the door. "They're all fine."
Patrice St. Clair, still clutching her wound, muttered to herself, "These are all business matters. There's no personal grudge involved. Please understand."
Brian and Frank simultaneously raised their guns and emptied the remaining bullets from their magazines at him.
(End of Chapter)