is just like in the original series. Anna plans to seduce the CIA director and her immediate superior at the FSB, the man who recruited her.
Jack genuinely feels a pity for this girl. Judging from her past, Anna isn't the type to let herself go. Even when she was in dire straits, she simply applied for a job, hoping to escape her predicament.
To force such a determined girl to the point of resorting to her own body as a last resort is truly despicable on the part of both the FSB and the CIA.
"They're not high enough," Frank said, without commenting on the feasibility of Anna's plan.
"Even if you could use the opportunity of sex to obtain confidential information from their personal computers and use it as leverage, and assuming both parties accept your offer, their authority wouldn't be enough to help you escape your current predicament."
Jack's mind raced. The plot hadn't yet reached the point where the CIA explained to Anna the true reason for her defection, and the truly unbelievable plot that drove the girl to despair hadn't yet unfolded.
The original series is set in 1990, when the FSB had a far more terrifying name: the KGB. And Vasiliev wasn't just a high-ranking FSB official, but rather the KGB's director.
Then, the unbelievable twist unfolds: the CIA forces Anna to assassinate Vasiliev, the KGB's top figure. Not only does she succeed, but she even manages to escape the encirclement, disappearing from the authorities' sight in a car that arrives.
Jack doesn't understand why Anna, if she had the skills, wouldn't worry about being controlled or hunted? She could simply shave her head, get a QR code tattooed on the back of her head, and become 47's partner.
This, however, reinforces Frank's earlier assertion: as a "discarded" figure, Anna clearly couldn't have access to FSB intelligence, and the CIA's treatment of her was essentially the same as the FSB's.
Frank raised his hand to calm Anna, whose eyes were once again red, and turned to look at Jack.
"How far do you want me to go, dead or alive?"
Jack said without hesitation, "Of course I want both."
Seeing the surprised expressions on their faces, he continued to explain, "Deleting Anna's information from the FSB archives is just a means to let her regain her freedom, but what is true freedom?"
He looked at Anna and said, "Have you ever thought about what you will do after you get rid of the control of the FSB and CIA? Describe what the free life that you have longed for countless times is like?"
"Own a cabin of my own by the sea." Anna was suddenly stuck in the middle of the sentence, her red lips slightly opened, but she couldn't say anything.
"It seems we need to have a proper discussion, but we can wait until you're free. I hope by then you've figured it out, because it matters to you."
Before Jack could finish, Anna blurted out, "I'm willing to give everything for freedom. My body, my life, everything is yours."
Jack was quite speechless by her directness. "I'm not short of women, and I'm not some ruthless capitalist. Besides, if even your life belongs to me, then where is your freedom?
I mean, you need to figure out what you want as soon as possible, because it affects your future career."
Anna was quite intelligent; after all, even fools wouldn't survive in this industry. But now, Jack was confusing her. It seemed he was right. Whether she repaid him with her body or her life, it would mean losing her freedom again.
To put it bluntly, it was like replacing the FSB and CIA that oppressed her with Jack. It was like changing jobs for a different company, hoping the new boss would be more merciful.
"I do want to recruit you, or rather, offer you a job. After all, freedom comes at a price, and it requires a substantial financial investment, like that beach house you've been dreaming of. But I'd prefer that you take this job voluntarily and proactively,"
Jack said, his face reminiscent of a startup boss promising a new employee a lucrative deal. "I don't need you to kill for me, nor do I need you to sell what's left of your dignity and body. And I certainly don't want to become a stumbling block in your pursuit
of freedom. There's no such thing as absolute freedom in this world, and everyone pursues freedom differently. When you figure out what you truly want, we'll continue this discussion.
Before that, we'll help you escape FSB and CIA control, erase your files, and create a new identity so you can live freely in the sun.
Once all is said and done, if you're still interested in my offer, you can contact me, or you can simply disappear. What do you think?"
Anna was a bit overwhelmed by Jack's sincere gaze. His offer sounded so much like pie in the sky.
In her miserable twenty-plus years, she had never experienced such pure kindness from a stranger, except for her parents in her childhood.
Jack certainly wasn't out to do charity, but there were countless examples throughout history of excessive kindness turning into resentment, or even deepest kindness turning
into enmity. Expecting to win loyal subordinates simply through favors was the stuff of literary novelists. He wasn't some evil, behind-the-scenes boss, nor did he harbor a desire for control. The sheer effort of maintaining his subordinates' loyalty was simply too exhausting.
Furthermore, Anna wasn't like the other familiar faces he'd met; their time together was too short. Given her previous career, building trust quickly was practically impossible.
So Jack chose to be more relaxed, just as he often did in his garden: loosen the soil, fertilize, sow the seeds, and let nature take its course.
When he said this, not only was Anna stunned, but even Frank and Brian looked surprised, confused as to what he was up to.
Frank, the oldest and most knowledgeable of the three, was the first to react, his eyes glancing at Jack with a hint of meaning.
"Wait a minute, I'll go contact some old friends." He stood up and grabbed the last bottle of fine wine left on the table.
Brian stood up and shook Jack's hand solemnly. "I have a feeling you might be the best boss I've ever met."
"I thought we were already friends," Jack said with a deliberately regretful expression, which made Brian laugh out loud. His wrinkled face, which seemed to always have an expression of bitterness and hatred, seemed to relax a little.
"I seem to have missed something interesting." At this time, Castle came down from the attic.
"Are the girls okay?" Jack turned around and asked.
Castle nodded, the worry that had been on his face for many days long gone. "Alexis is the bravest and strongest girl I've ever met. She'll be fine. Kim is great too, but they told me they never want to come to Paris again."
"Looks like someone's Christmas vacation will be missed with me," Jack said with a teasing smile, not yet realizing the seriousness of the matter.
Cassel grimaced. "She said she wanted to go to Hawaii."
Jack's smile froze. Over the past few years, his "Uncle Danny" had repeatedly urged him to visit his family in Hawaii, but various circumstances had always delayed him.
He'd even booked a Christmas vacation, but Emily's incident had caused bombings at home, and naturally, the trip was off the table.
Deep down, Jack felt a certain resistance to this familial bond attributed to his original self. After all, unlike some time travelers who inherited their original owner's memories, he didn't know how to respond to this unfamiliar affection.
Fortunately, he always adhered to a resigned attitude. Some things had to be faced sooner or later, and simply avoiding them wouldn't solve them. He didn't dwell on them too much.
Seeing the bottles of wine on the table, Cassel's face flickered with surprise. "I need a good night's sleep, too. Maybe some alcohol would calm my nerves."
Then, to his dismay, he realized the table was filled with empty bottles.
Jack pointed to the entrance to the wine cellar with a smile. When Frank finished his call and returned to the small living room, he saw several more empty bottles on the table, all of the oldest and most expensive. His silly son had fallen asleep on the sofa.
"Do you know Katya Petrovna?" Frank shook his head speechlessly and asked Anna.
Anna blinked in confusion, a look of awe on her face. "You mean General Petrovna? She's a legend among us."
Frank was stunned. "She's already a general? Okay, that doesn't matter. Starting tomorrow, you'll be temporarily assigned to her. She, you, some people within the FSB, and the CIA, you all have a common enemy."
Anna's face flickered with surprise, but then gave way to confusion. She didn't understand who the old CIA was talking about.
"Vasilev?" Jack asked tentatively. He wasn't completely guessing; after all, in the original series, it was this man Anna was destined to assassinate.
"Yes, Vasiliev, ever since he took this position, a lot of people both inside and outside have been extremely dissatisfied with him."
Jack filled Frank's glass with whiskey and pushed the glass toward him, "Go on."
"I may need to use this safe house in the future. There is no need to drink up all the wine in it at once." Frank complained, reached out and pulled a blanket to cover Cassel who was sleeping soundly.
He sat down at his son's feet and pointed at Anna. "I don't know why you have so many assassination missions now, but we were not like this in the beginning. We eavesdropped, spied on, bribed, and stole, and of course collected and organized intelligence from public channels.
Paris, East and West Berlin, London, Vienna and Budapest, these are our battlefields, battlefields without the smoke of gunpowder.
Spies often have their identities exposed and are secretly interrogated after being arrested, but all of this is maintained under a set of tacitly understood rules of the game.
That is, assassination is a last resort, usually only used on traitors, to deter those who are not firm in their hearts, and not against spies from other countries."
Jack listened with gusto, but a genuine writer who should have been most interested in this was sleeping soundly at this time, and had no idea what he had missed.
Frank continued, "From the Cold War to the present, the CIA, MI6, and even Mossad have always maintained some kind of communication mechanism with the KGB. It's not friendly, but there is mutual respect. After all, everyone is in a sense in the same industry.
Just like the movie "Bridge of Spies", we will communicate regularly and exchange captured intelligence officers, instead of directly executing them or sending them to Siberia and Guantanamo."
"But this tacit understanding was broken after Vasiliev came to power." Brian sighed quietly, "Before I retired, I heard that Moscow secretly arrested 9 Western intelligence officers in one day and executed them all."
Frank spun the cup with emotion, "That was five or six years ago. He broke this tacit understanding that has continued to this day.
Assassination seemed to have become the norm overnight. All intelligence officers realized a terrible thing: exposure means loss of life."
Jack probably understood, "You mean, it's not just the CIA that doesn't want to see this situation again, even within the FSB, there are people who hope to restore the previous order?"
"At least some of my friends think so," Frank continued, looking at Anna. "Kataya Petrovna can only provide you with temporary asylum, guaranteeing that no one will be watching you during this time.
But only Vasiliev or his successor has the authority to delete your information from the FSB archives."
Jack finally understood the true value of "R.E.D." As a retired CIA veteran, Frank had easily negotiated a deal with a faction within the FSB through a few secret phone calls, all in less than an hour.
Helping another faction ascend to power by eliminating its leader was simply unbelievable.
The color drained from Anna's face, and a deep-seated fear made her curl up her legs. "You want me to assassinate Vasiliev?"
Frank looked at her with a half-smile. "Can you blow his head off from over two kilometers away?"
Anna shook her head, confused, and listened as Frank continued.
"There's an opportunity in three days. We're confident we can get him in Paris, but we need a sniper skilled in ultra-long-range shooting, capable of killing him at a distance of over two kilometers.
Such snipers are hard to find, and most are listed. I know one, but she hasn't used one in 20 years. I wonder if she'd still be able to do it."
Jack had a rough idea of who Frank was referring to. It was probably the old lady from MI6 who was a flower arranging expert and moonlighted as a killer in "Red Flame Battlefield.
"Does it have to be a long-range sniper?" he asked. "Wouldn't a remote-controlled bomb or something like that be more reliable? Or perhaps a suicide drone?"
Today was another long chapter, to keep things coherent.
(End of chapter)