Chapter 205 More Dangerous Than She Initially Thought
Kate sat on the living room sofa, the screen of her laptop still lit. She was trying to organize her next reporting plan, but Lynn's warning before he left kept surfacing in her mind. He said the Holy Blood Alliance had targeted her and that she must be careful. She knew he wasn't exaggerating, but she still felt she should pay the price for the truth, even taking risks.
"It's too quiet," she murmured to herself, trying to break the tension in her heart with those words. But she knew that this quietness itself was a dangerous sign.
Kate stood up, stretched, then walked to the window, pulled back the curtain a little, and glanced at the street. She saw a strange black car parked across the street, its windows covered with dark bulletproof film, making it impossible to see inside. Although it seemed to have nothing unusual, Kate's sixth sense made her uneasy.
She returned to the sofa, trying to relax and tell herself it was just an ordinary car, but her hand unconsciously reached for the self-defense gun hidden in the coffee table drawer. Lynn had told her to carry this gun with her; he knew Kate wouldn't easily give up this fight, but at least he hoped she could protect herself.
At the same time, in the shadows not far from the apartment building, Lynn stood beside a discreet SUV, observing Kate's apartment under the dim streetlights. He leaned against the car door, his expression stern, a silenced pistol in his hand.
Ever since Kate's article was published, he knew the Holy Blood Alliance would never let her go easily. This dark organization was always efficient and cold-blooded; they would not tolerate anyone exposing their secrets to the light. And Kate, undoubtedly, had become a thorn in their side.
A faint Current sound suddenly came from Lynn's earpiece, followed by a familiar voice: "Lynn, this is Hans. What's your position?"
"I'm outside Kate's apartment," Lynn's voice was low and calm. "The situation is temporarily normal, but I suspect they have already started to act."
"Is there any movement over there?" Hans asked.
"No, but there's a car parked across the street that doesn't look right," Lynn glanced at the black car, his gaze like a knife. "I'm going to wait a bit longer."
"Alright, I'll send a support team over, but it will take some time," Hans's voice carried a hint of worry. "If they really send people, don't confront them head-on."
Lynn didn't answer, he just hung up the call. He knew he wouldn't wait for support to act. Time was of the essence, and the Holy Blood Alliance wouldn't give them much opportunity.
Just then, the black car's door suddenly opened, and several figures got out. Their movements were swift and stealthy, clearly trained professional killers. They wore dark clothes and hats, quickly dispersing. Two of them headed straight for Kate's apartment building, while the other two remained by the car on guard.
Lynn's eyes instantly turned cold. He cursed under his breath, then quickly turned around and took a thermal imager and a backup weapon from the car.
Kate sat on the sofa, the feeling of unease in her heart growing stronger. She suddenly heard a slight sound of footsteps coming from the hallway, followed by the sound of her apartment door lock being picked. Her body froze, and her hand slowly reached into the coffee table drawer, taking out the self-defense gun.
"Who's there?" she shouted, trying to make her voice sound more intimidating.
Her answer was the click of the lock being completely opened. Kate held her breath, her gun pointed at the door. The next second, two men in black burst in, holding silenced pistols.
"Finish her!" one of them ordered in a low voice, raising his gun at Kate.
Kate pulled the trigger; the first shot hit the door frame, but the second shot hit one of them in the shoulder. The man grunted and fell to the ground, while the other killer quickly raised his gun to return fire. A bullet grazed Kate's ear, and she quickly rolled behind the sofa, using it as cover.
Bullets penetrated the sofa back, making dull thudding sounds. Kate's heart was pounding as if it would burst from her chest. She tried to steady her hand, attempting to aim and shoot. But the opponent's pace was astonishingly fast, and he quickly circled to her side.
"Damn it!" Kate cursed under her breath, feeling her strength being swallowed by fear.
However, just as the killer was about to pull the trigger, a muffled sound suddenly came from outside the window. The killer's body lurched forward, falling to the ground, blood splattering from his head.
Kate was stunned. She turned to look out the window and saw Lynn standing on the opposite rooftop, holding a sniper rifle, his gaze as cold as an eagle.
"Get down!" Lynn ordered in a low voice through his earpiece.
Kate immediately complied, prostrating herself on the ground, while Lynn had already begun to move. He quickly slid down from the rooftop, his movements as agile as a leopard.
At the same time, the other two killers downstairs heard the gunshots and were about to rush into the apartment. After Lynn landed, he directly aimed his gun at their backs. After two muffled thuds, two bodies fell onto the street.
Lynn rushed towards the apartment without hesitation, leaping up the stairs and bursting into Kate's room. He quickly scanned the room with his gun, and only after confirming there were no other threats did he walk to Kate, who was hiding behind the sofa.
"Are you alright?" His voice was hard, yet it carried a hint of concern.
Kate looked up, her face filled with lingering shock, but she still shook her head, "I'm alive, thanks to you."
Lynn nodded, helping her up, "We have to go. This place has been exposed; they might send more people."
Kate bit her lip and nodded, following Lynn out of the apartment. As they went downstairs, she couldn't help but ask in a low voice, "Will they really kill me at all costs?"
"Yes," Lynn's voice was deep. "You are their target now, but you don't understand these people enough. Their methods are not just killing; they will make you understand what true despair is."
Kate said nothing more, but her gaze became more resolute. She knew she had been drawn into a battle more dangerous than she had imagined, but she also understood that there was no turning back from this fight.
In the night wind, Lynn helped Kate into the car, started the engine, and quickly drove away from the scene.
Lynn's car sped through the streets of Brooklyn. Kate sat in the passenger seat, gripping the seatbelt tightly, her face still not fully recovered. The atmosphere in the car was heavy and oppressive, with only the low hum of the engine filling the silence. Lynn held the steering wheel with one hand, his gaze as sharp as a blade. His other hand gently pressed the communicator by his ear, his voice low and tinged with impatience.
"Hans, where are your people?" Lynn's tone held a hint of urgency.
"We just arrived, Lynn," Hans's voice came through the earpiece, mixed with the faint sound of police sirens in the background. "We caught a low-level leader; he's the Commander of the action team. He's being sent to the FBI Headquarters interrogation room. You'd best come back immediately."
Lynn nodded, turning to look at Kate, who still seemed a bit shaken. "We have to go to the FBI Headquarters."
Kate looked up, took a deep breath, and tried to make her voice sound calmer, "Will that low-level leader cooperate?"
"If he doesn't cooperate, I'll make him understand that cooperation is the only option," Lynn's gaze was like a knife, his voice as low as a muffled thunderclap.
Kate nodded, saying nothing more. Although she still had doubts about Lynn's methods, at this moment, she could only trust this stern Agent.
In the FBI Headquarters interrogation room, the atmosphere was like a taut bowstring. The room was dimly lit, with only a bright light shining directly on the center of the table. A man with a full beard sat in a chair, his hands cuffed to the table. There was still dried blood on his face, and a cold smirk played on his lips, as if he didn't care about his predicament.
Hans stood to the side, arms crossed, his face grim. He looked at the man sitting in the chair, then at Lynn as he pushed the door open, and nodded.
"This is our guy," Hans pointed to the man. "His name is Michael Renaldo, a low-level leader of the Holy Blood Alliance, specifically responsible for carrying out assassinations and 'cleanup' missions. The operation to attack Kate tonight was commanded by him."
Lynn walked to the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down. He didn't speak, just stared at Renaldo, his eyes so cold they seemed to penetrate one's soul.
Renaldo raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair, his expression lazy, "Let me guess, next you're going to tell me I'm in big trouble, right?"
"Your trouble is bigger than you imagine." Lynn's voice was low but intimidating, "But it depends on how you answer my questions next."
"Questions?" Renaldo scoffed, "Don't bother. I won't say anything."
"Oh?" Lynn leaned forward slightly, a cold sneer playing on his lips, "You think you're very smart, don't you? Well, let me tell you, when we caught you, we already found your equipment and communication records. We know tonight's orders came from the core of the Holy Blood Alliance. And you, you're just a runner."
Renaldo's smile stiffened for a moment, but quickly returned to his previous indifference, "If you know all this, why are you still asking me? Just lock me up for life."
Lynn ignored his provocation, tapping his finger lightly on the table, "We have time, but I don't think you do. Do you think the Holy Blood Alliance would risk themselves for a small pawn like you? With you in our hands, they'll only see you as a burden. They'll abandon you, even erase all traces you left behind, including yourself."
Renaldo's mouth twitched, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, but he quickly hid it, "You Agents only play these psychological tactics, they're useless against me."
"Then try me." Lynn stood up, looking at him coldly, "We've already contacted several witnesses and technical teams to gradually reconstruct your plan for tonight. How long do you think you can last?"
"Go to hell!" Renaldo slammed the table, clearly losing control of his emotions, "You damn investigators, you don't know anything at all!"
Lynn stopped, turning his head slightly to look at him, his tone still calm, "Then why don't you tell us, let us know more."
Renaldo opened his mouth, as if to say something, but ultimately closed it. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and the chains on his handcuffs made a slight metallic clinking sound with his movements.
Just then, in the observation room outside the interrogation room, Kate watched everything through the one-way glass, feeling both nervous and shocked. She had already witnessed Lynn's decisiveness, but now she was seeing his interrogation skills for the first time—that calm yet oppressive aura, as if making the air thin.
"Do you think he'll crack?" Kate whispered to Hans, who stood beside her.
"Someone like Renaldo…" Hans shrugged, "He's only loyal to his own interests. If we can make him feel that cooperating with us is safer than keeping secrets for the Holy Blood Alliance, he'll talk."
Kate nodded, but the tension in her heart lingered. She knew that Renaldo might possess important intelligence about the Holy Blood Alliance, and that intelligence could be related to the lives and deaths of more people.
A few minutes later, Lynn sat down again, his gaze fixated on Renaldo, "This is your last chance. Tell us the Holy Blood Alliance's next target, and we can consider giving you a way out."
"What good would it do if I told you?" Renaldo said through gritted teeth, a hint of despair in his voice, "The Holy Blood Alliance won't let me go. No matter where you lock me up, they'll find a way to get to me, and then…" He made a gesture of slitting his throat.
"That depends on whether they get the chance." Lynn's voice was still calm, but it carried an undeniable power, "If you cooperate, we can give you a complete protection agreement. You'll get a new identity, a new life—and not have your throat slit in some dark corner."
Renaldo's Adam's apple bobbed, clearly wavering.
"The Holy Blood Alliance's core has already moved," Lynncontinued, "And you, you're just their tool. If you don't speak now, when they discover you've been caught, their cleanup procedure will be faster than ours. You'll die, and die worse than those subordinates tonight."
Renaldo's gaze flickered, and he finally lowered his head, his voice hoarse as he said, "Alright… alright. I'll tell you… but you have to guarantee my safety."
"Speak first." Lynn's voice was cold as a blade.
Renaldo gritted his teeth, silent for a few seconds, then finally spoke, "Their next target is at the dock. They're arranging a secret transport… some kind of new experimental item. The time is tomorrow night, midnight."
A cold glint flashed in Lynn's eyes, but he showed no emotion, only nodding, "Continue. Specific location?"
"The underground warehouse at Pier 7. They made some arrangements there to cover the cargo transport." Renaldo gasped, "But I don't know what the specific cargo is… only the higher-ups know these things."
"Anything else?" Lynn pressed, without any slack in his tone.
Renaldo hesitated, then finally whispered, "They sent a man named 'Caleb' to be in charge of the operation. He is a core enforcer of the Holy Blood Alliance; if you want to strike at the Holy Blood Alliance, you have to catch him."
Lynn nodded, stood up, and spoke into Hans's earpiece: "Recording complete. Notify the field team, we have a target." He turned to Renaldo, adding coldly, "I hope your intelligence is true, otherwise, you won't like the consequences."
Renaldo lowered his head, not speaking again, but the sweat on his forehead betrayed his fear.
At midnight, Pier 7 in Brooklyn was shrouded in a deathly silence and darkness. A cold wind blew from the sea, carrying a biting chill, stirring the mist above the port. The occasional distant ship's horn sounded like a low warning. Most of the lights on the pier were out, with only a few dim hanging lamps swaying at the top of the warehouse, casting weak light onto the iron gate, which was mottled and corroded by seawater.
Lynn leaned against an inconspicuous van, his sharp gaze sweeping every corner of the pier. He wore black tactical gear, held a silenced pistol, and the team's communications occasionally came through his earpiece.
"Target area clear." Hans's voice came through the earpiece, with his usual calm and professional tone, "The outer security is fine, but the internal layout might be more complex than we imagined. I just received intelligence that Caleb is personally on site."
Lynn's eyes instantly became even colder. "Caleb?" He repeated in a low voice, as if chewing on the name.
"That's right, a high-ranking enforcer of the Holy Blood Alliance." Hans continued, "He's not just a coordinator, but a cold-blooded killer. It's said he personally oversaw multiple assassination operations, including several 'cleanup' missions for Mutant test subjects. This man is more dangerous than any enemy we've encountered before."
"Good." Lynn's voice was low but firm, "This time, we'll keep him."
"Are you sure?" Hans's voice carried a hint of worry, "If the intelligence is true, he's got an entire team of mercenaries under him. This is their home turf, and we don't have enough people."
"This isn't about numbers." Lynn said coldly, "This is about speed. We must cut off their plan before they complete the transaction."
Lynn looked up into the distance, where several armored trucks were parked by the pier, with several heavily armed guards patrolling back and forth around them. Their steps were neat and orderly, clearly not ordinary street thugs, but professionally trained killers.
He opened his earpiece communication and issued instructions to all action teams: "Everyone in position. Once we enter, prioritize confirming the cargo and cutting off their transport line. Be careful of Caleb, he cannot be underestimated."
"Understood." Several brief responses came through the communication.
Lynn took a deep breath, pulled down his hat brim, gripped his weapon, and stealthily moved toward the flank of the warehouse. The night became his cover; his footsteps were as light as a cat's, making almost no sound in the darkness.
Kate was currently sitting in the FBI's temporary command vehicle, nervously watching the progress of the operation through the monitoring screen. Lynn had strongly insisted she stay here, and although she tried to argue, she ultimately had to compromise. She knew she was no longer just an observer; her reporting was closely related to this operation, and she also understood that all of this was far more dangerous than she had initially imagined.
Chapter 206: Never Win
"Can Lynn's team handle it?" she couldn't help but whisper to Hans, the head of the technical team sitting beside her.
Hans stared at the screen, his expression unperturbed. "Lynn isn't doing this for the first time. He's capable, but…" He paused, glancing at Zero. "The Holy Blood Allianceisn't an ordinary target either. This is a direct involvement of their core figures, and such operations usually come with some kind of destructive backup plan."
Zero bit her lip, her fists clenched tightly, her gaze never leaving the screen.
Lynn successfully infiltrated the perimeter of the warehouse; Hans's intelligence was accurate. The security here was extremely tight, and the patrol routes were flawlessly designed. Lynn leaned against an iron shelf, quickly analyzing his next course of action.
The voice of a team member came through his earpiece: "The east side patrol has been cleared. We can advance."
Lynn nodded, giving a low-voiced command: "Move out, maintain silence. Confirm the cargo first."
He looked up at the large warehouse not far away, which was the target location. The warehouse's iron door was ajar, a faint light emanating from within, and he could vaguely see several workers busy loading and unloading some huge boxes. Lynn quickly scanned the symbols on the boxes with his binoculars, his brows furrowed.
"Hans, can you find the serial numbers on these boxes?" Lynn asked in a low voice.
Hans responded quickly: "Already checking. One moment—these numbers belong to a company called 'Tri-An Logistics,' but this company is a shell, with almost no real business."
"Typical disguise," Lynn said in a low voice, his eyes sharper. "Whatever's in these boxes is, more likely than not, related to the Holy Blood Alliance's experiments."
Just as he was about to move closer, a fierce argument suddenly erupted inside the warehouse.
"You're stalling!" a man's voice shouted angrily.
Lynn's gaze sharpened, and he quickly adjusted his earpiece's frequency, using his equipment to capture the conversation inside the warehouse.
"Caleb," another voice was clearly calmer, but with a hint of impatience, "these goods need to be thoroughly inspected to ensure no problems during transport."
"Inspect? We don't have time to inspect!" the angry voice continued, "Do you know how critical this operation is? If these things aren't delivered on time, the Holy Blood Alliance's plan will be completely disrupted. And the FBI is already on our tails—"
"So we can't afford any mistakes," the calm voice coolly interrupted. "Your job is to protect the cargo. The rest is none of your business."
Lynn's brows furrowed even tighter. His intuition told him that the angry voice was Caleb, and the calm voice was likely the person in charge of the experiment—a scientist, or someone higher up.
He whispered into his earpiece: "I heard Caleb. The cargo is very important; this might be the core of their entire plan. We must accelerate the operation."
"Received," the team member responded in a low voice.
Lynn gestured, signaling his team members to disperse. He himself circled to the other side of the warehouse, approaching the internal control center from there.
Inside the warehouse, Caleb's face was so gloomy it looked like it could drip water. He wore a black tactical jacket, his eyes fierce, and he paced back and forth with a pistol in his hand. Several heavily armed mercenaries stood beside him, while on the other side, a middle-aged man in a White lab coat appeared much calmer.
"Don't make me repeat myself," Caleb said in a low voice, with killing intent in his tone, "these goods must leave on time."
"Then make your men move faster," the man in the lab coat coolly replied, "My work is done; now it's your turn."
Caleb was about to say something else when, suddenly, a low warning came through his earpiece: "Movement, sounds like someone outside."
His expression immediately changed, and he sharply raised his head, his gaze sweeping towards the warehouse entrance like a hawk. His subordinates quickly went on alert, all their muzzles pointed at the warehouse entrance.
Lynn stood outside the door, taking a deep breath. He knew the battle was about to begin.
"All units, positions," Lynn commanded in a low voice, his tone calm yet with deadly resolve.
The door was kicked open, and gunshots immediately rang out in the warehouse. Lynn charged in first, his gun accurately firing two shots, instantly taking down two guards.
"Move!" he roared, and the FBI team behind him immediately followed.
Bullets whizzed through the warehouse, and Lynn's movements were too fast to catch. He fired while approaching Caleb's direction. Caleb was not to be outdone, raising his gun to return fire, while shouting: "Protect the cargo! Don't let them succeed!"
A chaotic battle erupted inside the warehouse, the air filled with the smell of gunpowder.
The night air was thick with the strong smell of gunpowder and a tense atmosphere. The gunshots inside the warehouse gradually subsided, and the FBI Agents were systematically clearing the scene. The cargo boxes were opened, revealing rows of transparent containers filled with unknown liquids, mixed with complex documents and equipment.
But Lynn had no mind to look at those things. He stood at the warehouse entrance, his eyes as sharp as a hawk, staring at the black SUV rapidly speeding away at the other end of the dock. Hans's voice came through his earpiece: "Lynn, the target vehicle has been confirmed. Caleb is in the car. He has two escorts and is attempting to flee the port."
"Keep an eye on him," Lynn replied coldly, quickly turning and running towards the FBI vehicle parked outside. He opened the car door, slammed his foot on the accelerator, and the black SUV roared out like a beast.
"Hans, pull up the surrounding traffic surveillance," Lynncommanded through his earpiece while driving, "We must block his escape route. How many exits are there from Brooklyn? I need real-time updates."
"Retrieving now," Hans's voice was busy but consistently calm, "There are two main exits to the north of Brooklyn, and an old port road to the south leading to the highway. I've already notified two teams to intercept."
"Too slow," Lynn said coldly, his gaze fixed on the distant target, "He's buying time, he might have arranged for backup. We can't give him a chance."
On the street ahead, Caleb's SUV was frantically weaving through the narrow port alleyways. He sat in the back, his face ashen, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous light.
"Shake them off!" he growled at the escort in the driver's seat, his voice filled with pressure.
"Trying my best!" the escort looked back, his forehead covered in sweat. The FBI's SUV was hot on their tail, and Lynn's driving skills were clearly putting immense pressure on them.
Caleb clenched his fist, gritting his teeth, "These bastards already know too much. If I get caught, you know what will happen."
Another escort in the front seat asked in a low voice: "Should we activate the 'emergency protocol'?"
Caleb stared coldly at the rearview mirror, silent for a moment, then nodded, "Activate it. But be quick; I don't want to die at the hands of these Agents."
The escort nodded, opened a metal box, and took out a small remote control. He quickly pressed the button, then rolled down the window and threw a metal can containing an unknown liquid out of the car.
The metal can arced through the air, then exploded with a bang. A cloud of White thick smoke immediately spread out, instantly engulfing the entire alley.
Lynn's SUV screeched to a halt, the car's air filtration system automatically activated, but the view outside the car window was completely obscured. He cursed under his breath, quickly turned around, and took another small alley to bypass it.
"Hans!" Lynn shouted in a low, icy tone, "They're using smoke for cover, trying to shake us off. I need positioning support."
"We see it," Hans responded quickly, "They're fleeing towards the old port road to the south. This road leads to an abandoned highway, but there's also a small boatyard nearby—if they plan a sea evacuation, it might be there."
Lynn's finger lightly tapped the steering wheel, a cold glint flashing in his eyes, "Boatyard. Send support there, but let me get there first."
"Understood," Hans's voice was firm.
After bursting out of the thick smoke, the black SUV quickly drove south of the port. Their target was a small boatyard hidden deep within the abandoned dock, where boats had already been secretly controlled by the Holy Blood Alliance. As long as he boarded that ship, Calebwould be able to escape successfully.
"Faster!" Caleb roared in a low voice, his fingers drumming incessantly on the armrest of his seat.
The guard in the driver's seat gripped the steering wheel tightly, cold sweat beading on his forehead. "We're almost there, just one more minute—"
Before he could finish, blinding headlights suddenly appeared at the end of the distant alley. It was Lynn's SUV, chasing them at an incredible speed, like a leopard with its prey in a death grip.
"Damn it, how did he get around?!" the guard cursed, sharply turning the steering wheel, trying to shake off Lynn.
A cold sneer played on Lynn's lips. He slammed his foot on the accelerator, and the SUV let out a deep roar, ramming into the rear of Caleb's off-road vehicle. The two vehicles collided violently in the alley, emitting a screeching sound of metal friction.
Caleb was thrown forward, and he gritted his teeth fiercely. "Shoot! Don't let him catch up!"
The guard in the passenger seat immediately raised an automatic pistol, leaned out of the car window, and opened fire on Lynn's SUV. The bullets struck Lynn's windshield, but the specially made bulletproof glass only showed a few cracks.
Lynn's expression remained unchanged. He grabbed the pistol from the passenger seat, quickly rolled down the window, and fired two precise shots. The first struck the guard's shoulder, and the second directly knocked the weapon from his hand.
The guard cried out in pain, shrinking back into the car, his face pale, blood seeping from between his fingers.
"Idiot!" Caleb roared, snatching the guard's gun. "I'll do it!"
He leaned out the window, aimed the gun at Lynn's SUV, and coldly pulled the trigger. The bullet whistled through the night, but Lynn had already anticipated the move, sharply turning the steering wheel and shifting the car sideways to dodge the shot.
At this moment, the two vehicles had driven into the open space near the dock. Lynn slammed on the brakes, and the SUV screeched to a halt with a harsh tire friction sound. He quickly flipped out of the car, his gun aimed at Caleb's off-road vehicle.
"Don't move!" Lynn growled, his voice seemingly piercing the air.
But Caleb didn't stop. Instead, he jumped out of the car and sprinted towards the dock. He was extremely fast, still holding the gun, firing in Lynn's direction as he ran.
Lynn chased without hesitation, his steps steady and powerful, each stride precisely shortening the distance between them.
"Caleb!" Lynn growled, "You can't escape!"
Caleb turned back with a cold sneer, suddenly stopped, raised his gun at Lynn. "You can try and see who's faster!"
Lynn didn't hesitate, directly pulling the trigger. The bullet grazed Caleb's arm. Caleb's gun clattered to the ground. He let out a muffled groan, clutching his bleeding arm, and fell to his knees.
Lynn quickly rushed forward, kicked away Caleb's gun, pinned him to the ground, and the handcuffs clicked shut.
"Game over," Lynn said in a low voice, his eyes as cold as ice. "Now it's your turn to talk."
Caleb panted, his eyes filled with anger and unwillingness. "Do you think catching me can stop everything? You can't change anything, the Holy Blood Alliance's plan has already begun—"
"Then you'd better pray we find the answers soon," Lynnsaid coldly, pulling him up from the ground. "Otherwise, you'll be the first to pay the price."
At the same time, the FBI's reinforcement team arrived, cordoning off the entire dock. Lynn handed Caleb over to Hans, his expression still grim.
In the FBI Headquarters conference room that night, the atmosphere was so heavy it was hard to breathe. Lynnstood by the table, hands resting on the surface, his gaze stern. The chilling phone call he had just received still echoed in his ears. Although the call had ended, the other party's words were etched deeply into his mind like a knife.
"We know you've caught Caleb. He's very important to us, and we know your colleagues are just as important to you," the voice on the other end of the phone was low, slow, and carried a chilling threat. "We have one of your people. If you want him to live, return Caleb to us."
Lynn didn't respond immediately, only clenching his fists.
"I'll give you 24 hours to consider. If there's no answer, your colleague will pay the price for it." The person on the other end of the phone didn't wait for Lynn's response and hung up directly.
Lynn looked down at the table, his facial muscles so taut they seemed ready to explode. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his emotions.
"Who is it?" Hans stood beside him, his face equally grave. "Who did the Holy Blood Alliance capture?"
"Johnson," Lynn looked up, his eyes as cold as frozen seawater. "He was on perimeter surveillance duty yesterday. Clearly, they had a plan long ago."
"Damn it," Hans cursed under his breath. "Johnson is a good man. He has a family, two children..."
Lynn didn't respond. His gaze swept over the documents and maps on the table, his mind working rapidly. He knew this was the Holy Blood Alliance testing them, but the problem was, in this game, he couldn't make a single wrong move.
Kate sat in the corner, her hands clenched into fists. Her face was pale, but her eyes were unusually firm. "Lynn, they captured Johnson, which means they know we're closing in. This is their counterattack."
"This isn't just a counterattack," Lynn said coldly. "This is a threat, a means to control the situation. They know we need Caleb, and they know we won't easily sacrifice our colleague."
"So what are you going to do?" Kate looked directly at him, a hint of hidden anger in her voice. "You're not really considering handing Caleb over, are you?"
"I can't," Lynn's answer was decisive and hard. He turned and stared at Kate, without a trace of compromise in his eyes. "Caleb is our only key to unlocking the Holy Blood Alliance's core right now. If we let him go, we'll lose everything—including the chance to get close to the Holy Blood Alliance."
"What about Johnson then?" Kate countered, her voice low but carrying an undeniable accusation. "Are you just going to abandon him? Let him sacrifice for this operation?"
Lynn's expression didn't change, but his eyes flickered slightly. "I won't abandon anyone," his voice was deep but full of power. "But I also won't let the Holy Blood Alliance control this game. This has to be done my way."
Hans sighed, walked to the side, and quietly gave orders to the communications officer. "Immediately pinpoint Johnson's last signal location. Mobilize all available surveillance and satellite imagery. We must find him."
Lynn glanced at Hans, then picked up the walkie-talkie on the table. "Notify all teams, within 24 hours, we may face the worst-case scenario. Caleb must remain here; the intelligence on him is more important than anyone else, but we also need to ensure Johnson comes back alive."
Meanwhile, in a dimly lit Underground Room within the Holy Blood Alliance's hidden base, Johnson was tied to a metal chair. There were a few bloodstains on his face, and blood still seeped from the corner of his mouth, but his eyes still held a stubborn defiance.
In front of him, a man in a black suit stood, holding a small taser, a cruel smile playing on his lips.
"Will your friends come to save you?" the man said in a low voice, with a playful contempt in his tone.
Johnson looked up, forcing a sarcastic smile. "What do you think?"
The man in black's face darkened. He took a step closer, pressed the taser against Johnson's arm, and sharply flipped the switch. A harsh Current sound rang out, and Johnson's body instantly twitched, but he gritted his teeth, not uttering a single cry of pain.
"Being stubborn won't do you any good," the man retracted the taser, a cold sneer on his face. "However, it doesn't matter. We just need you alive until they agree to our terms."
Johnson panted, enduring the severe pain in his body, and said in a hoarse voice, "You'll never win."
The man snorted coldly and said nothing more. He turned and left the room, leaving Johnson alone, tied to the chair.
In the early hours of the morning, Lynn stood in the interrogation room, with Caleb sitting at the table in front of him. Although his hands were handcuffed behind his back to the chair, Caleb's expression remained calm, even carrying a hint of mocking amusement.
Chapter 207 Excellent Agent
"So, your Agent was captured," Caleb said leisurely, leaning back in his chair. "Is this what you call 'controlling the situation'? How ridiculous."
Lynn didn't respond; he just quietly stared at Caleb, like a raptor patiently waiting for its prey to make a mistake.
Caleb raised an eyebrow, seemingly wanting to break the silence. "Let me guess—their condition is to exchange me, right?"
"You're correct," Lynn finally spoke, his voice unsettlingly calm. "But you know, I won't do that."
"Oh?" Caleb feigned surprise. "What about your colleague? Isn't the FBI's motto 'No man left behind'?"
Lynn leaned slightly closer to Caleb and whispered, "You overestimate your own value. The Holy Blood Alliance is using you as bait, but to me, you are just a pawn, a pawn that must remain."
Caleb's smile froze for a moment but quickly returned. "You think you can pry the Holy Blood Alliance's secrets from me? Lynn, you know nothing about this game."
"Perhaps," Lynn stood up straight, his gaze cold. "But I know one thing—what you fear is not us, but your superiors. They won't give you any chance to escape."
Caleb didn't answer, but a sinister glint flashed in his eyes.
Lynn turned and walked out of the interrogation room, leaving Caleb alone to face the oppressive silence.
When Johnson woke up, there was a deathly silence around him, and the air was thick with the smell of chemicals. The light overhead was dim, flickering and emitting a harsh Current sound. He blinked, feeling his hands tied behind his back to a metal chair, the rough ropes deeply cutting into his wrists, rubbing his skin raw and burning. His head was still throbbing, likely from the electric shock he had just received.
He slowly looked around. The room was small, with rusty tools and empty chemical reagent bottles scattered on the concrete floor. The four walls were mottled and peeling, clearly an abandoned factory that hadn't been maintained for a long time. His mind was in a mess, but after a moment, memories flooded back—he had been captured, Lynn must already know he was missing, and the Holy Blood Alliance was likely using him to threaten the FBI.
"No, I can't just wait here," Johnson muttered to himself, slowly twisting his body in the chair, trying to find some room to move. His gaze quickly swept the floor, searching for anything he could use.
Not far from the left side of the chair, he saw a rusty metal shard, perhaps a piece that had fallen from the wall. It wasn't large, but its edge looked sharp enough to cut the ropes.
"That's it," Johnson gritted his teeth, focusing his gaze on the metal shard. He took a deep breath, trying to adjust his center of gravity, and moved the chair little by little towards the metal shard using its back legs. The bottom of the chair scraped against the floor, making a faint "squeak" sound. Every movement he made was cautious, fearing he might alert the guards outside.
Time seemed to stretch, each push accelerating his heartbeat. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his muscles ached from tension. After a few minutes, he finally moved the chair close enough. He slowly lowered his head, reaching for the metal shard with his hands tied behind his back. When his fingers touched the cold metal, he couldn't help but feel a surge of joy.
He gripped the metal shard tightly in his palm and began to saw at the ropes with it, little by little. The ropes were strong, but the sharp edge of the metal shard gradually loosened them. His wrists were cut and bleeding from the friction, but he didn't stop, gritting his teeth and persisting.
Just as the ropes were about to be completely severed, footsteps sounded from outside. Johnson's movements stopped. He held his breath, pressing his ear against the back of the chair, trying to distinguish the number and direction of the footsteps.
"He's still inside, right?" a low voice came from outside the door.
"Of course, he can't escape," another voice responded, with a tone of disdain.
"The boss said we need to keep him alive. They want to use this guy to get Caleb back."
"What a hassle. If it weren't for orders from above, I would have dealt with him already."
The footsteps gradually faded, seemingly the two were just on a patrol and had no intention of entering the room. Johnson breathed a sigh of relief, but also felt a greater sense of urgency. He knew such an opportunity wouldn't come often. He lowered his head and quickened his movements. A few seconds later, the ropes finally broke.
His wrists were instantly free but numb from being bound for so long. He quickly flexed his wrists, then stood up from the chair. His gaze scanned the surroundings, looking for tools for his next move.
In the corner, some old tools were piled up, including a long iron rod and a rusty screwdriver. He grabbed the screwdriver, gripping it tightly in his hand, then cautiously walked towards the door.
He gently pressed against the doorframe, his ear against the cold iron door, trying to hear any movement outside. There seemed to be no footsteps in the corridor, but he knew that didn't mean it was safe.
Johnson slowly pushed the door open, just a crack. His eyes quickly scanned the corridor outside, and after confirming there were no guards, he fully opened the door. The corridor was dimly lit, with some footprints and cigarette butts scattered on the floor. He held his breath and tiptoed along the wall, heading out.
Every step was like treading on a blade; his heart pounded so fast it felt like it would leap out of his chest. He knew that if he was discovered, he might not get a second chance.
Suddenly, low voices came from around the corner ahead. He quickly retreated, hiding in a nearby storage room, closing the door but leaving a small gap to observe outside.
Two guards were walking from the end of the corridor, their steps steady, weapons in hand. They walked very slowly, seemingly checking every room carefully.
"Do we really need to be this careful?" one guard complained. "This place has already been cleared; he can't escape."
"Don't be careless," the other said coldly. "Johnson is an Agent; his patience and skill are far greater than you imagine."
Johnson's breathing became shallow. He knew this was his best chance. After the guards passed, he quietly pushed the door open, quickly slipped out of the storage room, and ran down the corridor in the opposite direction.
He ran lightly but quickly. Finally, he found an exit to the outside. It was a dilapidated iron door with a rusty lock hanging on it.
Johnson took out the screwdriver, forcefully inserted it into the keyhole, and began to pry. At that moment, shouts suddenly came from the corridor behind him—the guards had discovered he was no longer in the room.
"He ran! Chase him!"
Johnson's movements became more frantic. The tip of the screwdriver spun rapidly, emitting a harsh metal grinding sound. A few seconds later, the lock finally broke. He pushed open the iron door, and a blast of cold wind hit him.
Outside was a vast, abandoned area, with faint yellow lights and the distant sound of vehicles still visible. He didn't hesitate, immediately rushing out.
The guards behind him gave chase, bullets whizzing past, hitting the ground and abandoned machinery near him. Johnson gritted his teeth, quickly weaving through the area, using the abandoned vehicles and equipment for cover.
"Stop him!" someone roared, and more pursuers surged out.
Johnson's strength was nearly depleted, but he forced himself to keep going. He knew that if he could hold out until the FBI arrived, he would survive. As he ran, he pulled a small tracker from his pocket, which he had secretly found in the storage room before escaping. He turned the tracker on and threw it onto a high iron frame, hoping Lynn and Hans would receive the signal.
Suddenly, an abandoned truck appeared before his eyes. He quickly climbed into the driver's seat, pulled open the door, and forcefully twisted the ignition switch. A few seconds later, the truck roared to life.
"Don't let him drive away!" The guards behind him fired wildly, bullets shattering the windshield, but Johnson had already stepped on the accelerator, and the truck surged forward, kicking up a cloud of dust.
He drove the truck out of the abandoned area, heading towards the distant lights. His gaze was resolute; although there were still pursuers behind him, he knew he had gained the upper hand.
"Hold on, Lynn," he murmured. "I'll come back alive."
At the same time, Johnson's signal suddenly came through Lynn's communicator. Hans's voice was filled with surprise and tension: "Lynn! Johnson's tracker has been activated! He successfully escaped!"
Lynn's lips curled into a cold smirk. "Well done. Everyone, move—intercept Johnson, and we'll trap the Holy Blood Alliance right where they are!"
Johnson sped down the road in the abandoned truck, his heart still pounding, the gunshots and headlights of his pursuers lingering like ghosts behind him. The windshield was riddled with holes, and the cold wind howled through, stinging his cheeks. The engine let out a low roar, as if protesting that the machine was nearing its limit.
He glanced down at the dashboard, seeing that the fuel gauge was almost at the red line, with very little fuel left in the truck. He gritted his teeth, gripping the steering wheel tightly, while observing the situation behind him through the rearview mirror. Two black SUVs were in hot pursuit, their high-beam headlights cutting through the darkness like sharp blades.
Johnson knew that if he continued like this, he would likely be cornered in a dead end. He had to find a way to shake off these pursuers and buy time for Lynn and the FBI team to arrive as backup.
He quickly scanned his surroundings. The road ahead was lined with abandoned factory equipment and mountains of scrap, a typical industrial wasteland with no obvious exits, but full of complex terrain and obstacles.
"This is it," Johnson whispered to himself, slamming on the accelerator, pushing the truck to its maximum speed, and charging towards an area of abandoned iron frameworks.
The pursuers behind him clearly hadn't anticipated his move. The SUV driver shouted, "Where's he going? Watch out for an ambush!"
But the pursuers had no choice but to grit their teeth and continue the chase.
The truck made a sharp turn, plunging into the iron framework area. The tall, upright iron frames were covered in rust and cracks, threatening to collapse at any moment. Johnson skillfully used these obstacles to create chaos, precisely controlling the steering wheel as the truck weaved between the frames, while the SUVs behind him had to slow down to avoid collisions.
"Damn it!" one of the pursuers cursed angrily, as the front of his SUV narrowly missed an inclined iron pillar. The gunman in the back seat leaned out, trying to aim his rifle at the truck's tires, but Johnson slammed on the brakes, and the truck's rear kicked up a cloud of dust, obscuring the pursuers' view.
"You want to chase?" Johnson cursed under his breath, then sharply turned the steering wheel, slamming the truck's rear into a nearby iron frame. With a loud crash, the entire iron frame collapsed, falling towards the trailing SUV. The driver of the first SUV reacted too slowly, swerving sharply, but still got clipped on the side by the iron frame, and the vehicle spun out of control.
The other SUV behind it braked hard, and the people inside immediately jumped out, aiming their weapons at the truck.
"Get out! You can't escape!" a pursuer shouted, raising his gun at Johnson's driver's side.
But Johnson had no intention of stopping. He slammed on the accelerator, and the truck spun around at an impossible angle, charging back into the depths of the ruins.
Meanwhile, Lynn and Hans's team were approaching Johnson's location at full speed. Based on the tracker's signal, they had pinpointed the specific area of the ruins. Hans's voice came through the comms: "Johnson is in the abandoned industrial zone. He's still moving, seemingly trying to shake off his pursuers."
Lynn responded coldly, "We'll get there. Inform everyone, try not to open fire. Johnson's condition is unstable. He might need medical attention."
"Understood," Hans's voice carried a hint of tension.
Lynn's SUV screeched to a halt outside the ruins. He quickly got out, shouldering his assault rifle, and quietly ordered his team members, "Split into two groups, flank them. Keep communications open. If you find Johnson, notify me immediately."
The team members nodded, dispersing and melting into the night.
Deep within the ruins, Johnson's truck finally stopped. The fuel tank was completely empty, unable to go any further. He gasped for breath, jumped out of the driver's seat, and quickly searched for new cover. He knew the pursuers hadn't given up, and now he had to rely on his wits and combat experience to buy time.
He hid behind a pile of abandoned steel, carefully listening to the sounds around him. Sure enough, the sound of an SUV engine and the footsteps of his pursuers came from not far away.
"He's around here! Search!" a rough voice shouted.
Johnson took a deep breath and felt for his only weapon in his pocket—the rusted screwdriver he had taken from the abandoned factory. A bitter smile touched his lips; this was far from his ideal weapon, but he had to make do for now.
The footsteps grew closer. He gripped the screwdriver tightly, hidden in the shadow of the steel. As a pursuer slowly approached, he suddenly lunged out, stabbing the screwdriver towards the man's wrist. The man cried out in pain, and his gun fell to the ground. Johnson didn't hesitate, quickly pulling him down, pressing his knee hard into his chest, and punching him in the Sun temple.
The man immediately fell unconscious.
Johnson picked up the man's gun and quickly retreated back into the shadows. He knew he couldn't confront these pursuers head-on, but he also knew he could use the terrain and their fear to pick them off one by one.
Just as the next pursuer approached, his gun was already aimed at the man's leg—a dull thud, and the pursuer cried out in pain as he fell to the ground.
"Damn it, he's still alive!" a distant pursuer shouted, his voice clearly panicked.
But just as they were about to surround Johnson, a series of muffled gunshots came from the other side of the ruins. The pursuers' movements froze, and then they saw several FBI Agents rush out of the darkness, quickly taking up high ground and cover.
"Drop your weapons!" Lynn's voice was as cold as a winter wind. His figure appeared at the edge of the ruins, his assault rifle aimed at the driver of the last SUV, "You have no chance."
The pursuers hesitated for a second, but just as they were about to retaliate, the FBI Agents had already precisely hit their weapons. A chaotic battle ended in less than three minutes, and all the Holy Blood Alliance pursuers were subdued.
Johnson emerged from behind the steel, his face tired, but his eyes still held a stubborn gleam. He looked at Lynn, a slight smile on his lips: "You finally made it."
Lynn walked up to him, his gaze complex, "We almost thought you wouldn't make it."
Johnson shrugged, handing the stolen gun to Lynn, "I didn't want to be the kind of person who just waits to be rescued."
Lynn nodded, the sternness on his face relaxing a little, "Good job, Johnson. But next time, don't risk your life on your own."
Johnson forced a laugh, "That's not something I can control."
Lynn patted him on the shoulder, then turned to Hans, "Take these people back to headquarters and interrogate them. Tonight is over, but we're still far from the end."
After work, Lynn drove back to the familiar alleyways of Brooklyn. The streetscape was as usual. Tired, he pushed open the car door and stepped into his home, where warm lights were already on. A light footsteps came from the kitchen, followed by his sister Gwen peeking out, her smile as bright as morning light.
"Brother, you're back!" Gwen's hands were still dusted with flour as she stood at the doorway, staring at him, "Why are you so late? Dad's been anxious, he said we were going out for dinner tonight."
Lynn rubbed his brow, hanging his coat on the hanger behind the door, "Things were a bit busy today, just got back from headquarters."
At this moment, George Stacy's voice came from the living room. He was sitting on the sofa, polishing his old pocket watch, a hint of reproach in his tone, "Lynn, you can't always be so busy with work. Your family is counting on you. It's rare for us to have a family gathering tonight, so no more talk about cases."
"I know, Dad." Lynn sighed, walking over and patting George's shoulder, "I just can't let go of recent matters."
George looked up at his adopted son, his eyes complex, but then he smiled with relief, "You're an excellent Agent, I've always known that. But sometimes, you need to give yourself some breathing room. Tonight, you only need to remember one thing—eat well, and don't think about the case."
"As you say," Lynn smiled, feeling a slight loosening in his heart.
"Alright!" Gwen clapped her hands, interrupting their conversation, "Hurry up and change, we're leaving! Don't make the restaurant wait half an hour like last time!"
Lynn smiled helplessly, then turned and went upstairs to change into slightly more casual clothes.
The evening breeze was cool as Lynn, George, and Gwenwalked together on the street. Gwen excitedly chatted with George about school, occasionally turning to ask Lynn questions, to which Lynn mostly responded with nods or brief remarks. His gaze involuntarily swept over his surroundings; professional habit kept him constantly vigilant, even in such a relaxed setting.
Chapter 208 The Slowest Pace
"What are you so nervous about, bro?" Gwen suddenly stopped, arms crossed, glaring at him. "You look like you're on a case."
Lynn was amused by her words. "No, I'm just looking around."
"Just looking around?" Gwen scoffed, half-believing, half-doubting. "I think you're too wary. Come on, this is Brooklyn, not one of those places in your cases that are full of bad guys."
"Alright, Gwen, stop scolding your brother," Georgeinterjected, coming to Lynn's rescue. "He's been an Agentfor so many years; he's probably used to it. You need to give him more patience."
"Hmm, okay." Gwen pouted and continued walking.
Just then, Lynn suddenly heard a familiar laugh. He subconsciously turned his head and saw an unexpected face—Kate Miller.
Kate was wearing a gray trench coat, hands in her pockets, standing in front of a street-side cafe, chatting with a man who looked like a reporter. Her smile still carried that unyielding sharpness, but there was a rare hint of ease in her eyes.
"It's her," Lynn murmured, his steps faltering slightly.
Gwen followed his gaze and immediately perked up. "Wow, bro, who is that? She looks really pretty."
"Someone I know," Lynn replied simply, but his tone unconsciously held a hint of complex emotion.
George also looked at Kate, raising an eyebrow slightly. "She doesn't look like an ordinary person. Is she your colleague?"
"No," Lynn shook his head. "She's a reporter. We had some…interactions before."
"A reporter?" Gwen's eyes lit up instantly. "Bro, don't tell me you have some special relationship with a reporter? Those kinds of people are really good at digging up secrets."
Lynn ignored his sister's teasing. He just stood there, his gaze unconsciously following Kate's figure. When Kate said goodbye to the reporter and turned to leave, her eyes inadvertently swept over Lynn.
Kate's steps halted; she clearly hadn't expected to run into Lynn here. After a moment of surprise, she showed a meaningful smile and walked towards him.
"Lynn," she stood before him, her smile faint, but a hint of curiosity flickered in her eyes. "I didn't expect to see you here."
"Kate," Lynn nodded, his tone flat, but his gaze was firmly fixed on her. "How have you been lately?"
"How else could I be? It has a little something to do with you FBI people," Kate said, arms crossed, with a hint of playfulness in her voice. "But, my life is probably a little better than yours, seeing how tired you look."
"That's right, he's tired, but still handsome," Gwensuddenly interjected, her gaze darting between Lynn and Kate, her eyes full of teasing.
Kate looked down at Gwen, a softer smile on her face. "You're Lynn's sister?"
"Yes, I'm Gwen," Gwen extended her hand openly. "Are you my brother's friend?"
"You could say so," Kate shook her hand, then turned to Lynn. "But you didn't tell me you had such a cute sister."
Lynn sighed and muttered, "She's not as cute as you think."
Gwen stuck out her tongue, then looked at Kate. "We're about to go for dinner. Do you want to join us?"
"Gwen—" Lynn tried to stop her, but Gwen immediately cut him off. "Don't be so stingy, bro. She's your friend. Besides, Dad, don't you agree?"
George smiled slightly and nodded. "We can add another seat. If this young lady is willing, she's certainly welcome."
Kate clearly hadn't expected the invitation, but her gaze lingered on Lynn's face for a moment, then she showed a relaxed smile. "Since you're so hospitable, I won't stand on ceremony."
Lynn helplessly rubbed his temples, but in the end, he didn't say anything more. The three continued walking towards the restaurant, while Kate quietly followed behind them, occasionally chatting with Gwen.
The restaurant lights were soft, and the air was filled with the aroma of food. Gwen and Kate chatted animatedly, from school performances to celebrity gossip, and even boldly asked a few questions about Kate's work experience.
"So you're a reporter, specializing in those really dangerous news stories?" Gwen's eyes widened, clearly full of curiosity about Kate's profession.
"You could say that," Kate replied with a smile. "My job is to uncover the truth, no matter how difficult those truths are to accept."
"Sounds cool!" Gwen's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Sounds much more interesting than my brother's job."
Lynn raised an eyebrow and said blandly, "If you really knew what she's been through, you wouldn't say that."
Kate glanced at him, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Lynnis right, Gwen. My job is indeed dangerous and very stressful. But sometimes, revealing the truth itself is worth the risk."
Gwen nodded thoughtfully, while George smiled slightly and said, "In any case, both of your professions are remarkable. To strive for justice is always something to be admired."
Kate took a sip of red wine, looked at Lynn, and smiled meaningfully. "It sounds like your family is very supportive of your work."
Lynn didn't answer, just lowered his head and cut a piece of steak.
The restaurant's lighting was warm and soft, and the candlelight on the table flickered, making the whole atmosphere exceptionally cozy. Gwen was clearly completely immersed in her own "mission"—she had never been so enthusiastic as she was tonight, cutting her steak while subtly glancing in Kate and Lynn's direction, a sly glint in her eyes.
"So, Kate," Gwen finally put down her knife and fork, speaking casually, "How long have you and my brother known each other?"
Kate paused slightly, then smiled. "Not long, just a few months? We met because of some…well, work-related matters."
"Oh, really?" A hint of teasing flashed in Gwen's eyes. "That must have been some very special 'work-related matters,' otherwise how would my brother remember someone so clearly?"
Lynn put down his glass, his eye twitching. "Gwen, I remember everyone I've interacted with; it's a work habit."
"Yes, yes, yes," Gwen rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. "But you never mention anyone else normally. Kate is an exception."
"Because she's a reporter," Lynn answered crisply, but with a hint of caution in his tone; he clearly sensed Gwen's "intention."
"A reporter?" Gwen raised her eyebrows. "That's quite interesting. Kate, do you feel that someone like my brother is particularly difficult for the media to approach?"
Kate narrowed her eyes and looked at Lynn, seemingly amused. "Hmm…that's true. He's very hard to approach, especially when you try to ask questions that make him uncomfortable."
"Like what questions?" Gwen's tone was full of curiosity.
"For example," Kate put down her cutlery, pretending to think seriously for a moment, then said with a teasing tone, "Do you always tend to bear everything alone? Are you afraid of letting others get close to you?"
Lynn frowned but didn't immediately retort. He just looked at Kate with a slightly helpless expression. "You're analyzing me again."
Kate shrugged. "Occupational hazard, don't mind it."
Gwen watched their interaction and couldn't help but laugh. "Oh my god, you two have great chemistry! Lynn, you actually didn't retort directly; that's completely out of character."
"Why would I retort?" Lynn raised an eyebrow. "She's only making superficial observations."
"Oh wow, 'superficial'," Kate pretended to be offended, but the smile on her lips couldn't be hidden. "Alright, Agent Lynn, next time I'll try to go a little deeper."
George listened from the side, a meaningful smile on his face. He didn't interrupt the conversation, just quietly cut his steak, seeming quite amused.
"But seriously," Gwen suddenly dropped her teasing tone, her gaze seriously sweeping back and forth between Kate and Lynn. "I think you two are quite a match."
As soon as this was said, the atmosphere at the table instantly became subtle.
Kate paused slightly, then lowered her head to hide her expression. "Gwen, you're quite the joker."
"I'm not joking," Gwen said seriously. "The chemistry between you two is too obvious. Brother, don't you feel it yourself?"
Lynn's expression froze for a moment, then he lightly coughed, "Gwen, have you been watching too many TV shows?"
"This has nothing to do with TV shows, I just have eyes." Gwen smiled cunningly, "Don't tell me you didn't feel anything at all."
Kate looked up and glanced at Lynn, her eyes carrying a hint of embarrassment, but more curiosity. Lynndeliberately avoided her gaze, reaching for his Water glass and taking a sip, trying to hide his discomfort.
"Your brother probably has too strong a professional habit, even facing emotions like handling a case, cold and detached," Kate said, feigning nonchalance, attempting to casually shift the topic.
"Oh, no, no, he's not cold and detached, he's just very clumsy." Gwen ruthlessly exposed him, "He's not good at expressing his feelings, always pretending to be tough, but actually, he's more nervous than anyone inside."
"Enough, Gwen," Lynn finally couldn't help but say in a low voice, but his tone was more helpless than angry.
"Oh, don't be so serious." Gwen blinked, then turned to Kate, "But seriously, Kate, have you ever considered dating my brother? Although he's stubborn, he's actually a nice guy."
Kate's smile stiffened for a moment; she clearly hadn't expected Gwen to ask so directly. She hesitated for a moment before speaking, "Lynn is a very remarkable person, I respect him greatly, but—"
"But what?" Gwen pressed.
"But he might not be very suitable for dating." Kate took a sip of wine, her gaze subtly drifting towards Lynn.
"Why?" Gwen was like a curious child, unwilling to let go of any detail.
Lynn finally couldn't take it anymore. He put down his glass, his voice low and firm, "Gwen, enough."
Gwen pouted, seemingly a little unwilling, but still didn't continue. She lowered her head, cut a piece of steak, and grumbled, "Alright, alright, you two are so boring."
Kate managed a small smile, but her gaze remained on Lynn. She knew that although Gwen's words were a joke, they unexpectedly hit upon something she was unwilling to face. And although Lynn's expression seemed calm, she could feel that he also seemed to be hiding some complex emotions within him.
Although the dinner atmosphere was slightly broken by Gwen's "matchmaking," it quickly returned to normal. George timely shifted the topic, starting to chat with Kate about some lighthearted things, while Lynn fell into a rare silence. He lowered his head, cutting his steak, occasionally looking up at Kate, a softness he himself didn't realize flickering in his eyes.
After dinner, the group walked out of the restaurant together; the street wind was colder than when they arrived. Gwen looked at the street corner not far away and suddenly said excitedly, "I want to buy some dessert! There's a really good shop over there!"
"Gwen." George shook his head, "Didn't you just finish a meal?"
"Dessert and dinner are two different things!" Gwenpulled George towards the dessert shop without question, leaving Lynn and Kate standing alone at the restaurant entrance.
Lynn looked at their backs and sighed helplessly, "She's always like this, her energy never runs out."
"She's quite cute." Kate smiled lightly, her hands in her pockets, and turned her head to look at Lynn, "But those things she said... were you very uncomfortable?"
Lynn was silent for a moment, then said in a low voice, "She sometimes likes to tease people too much."
"So, you think she's teasing you?" Kate's tone carried a hint of provocation.
Lynn turned to look at her, his gaze deep, "What do you think?"
Kate was slightly taken aback, but then she smiled, "I think she just hopes you can have a normal emotional life, instead of always living in danger and pressure."
Lynn didn't answer. His gaze passed over Kate and landed at the end of the street. At that moment, he seemed to fall into some kind of contemplation, while Kate quietly watched him, feeling for the first time that this stern Agent might be more complex than she imagined.
After dinner, the street still exuded Brooklyn's unique warm atmosphere, neon lights flickered with faint glows in the hazy night, and the wind, carrying a hint of coolness, brushed their faces. George led Gwen ahead, the father and daughter chatting and laughing, Gwenholding a dessert in her hand, happily taking a bite, and looking back at Lynn and Kate.
"Brother, since Kate happened to meet us, why don't you give her a ride home?" Gwen said casually, but her eyes sparkled with that familiar "matchmaking glow," setting off alarm bells in Lynn's mind.
"Gwen, I think Kate can go home by herself." Lynn's tone carried a hint of resistance.
But Kate smiled, her hands in her trench coat pockets, deliberately fanning the Flames, "Actually, if you're willing to give me a ride, I won't refuse."
Gwen immediately smiled triumphantly, giving Kate a thumbs-up, "It's settled then! Lynn, no more excuses. You always act like a busy man, it's rare to have a chance to relax, why not walk a few more steps and clear your head."
"Clear my head?" Lynn frowned, but facing Gwen's triumphant expression, any further argument seemed superfluous, so he could only sigh helplessly, "Alright, but just this once."
Kate looked at him with a beaming smile, "Then I'll trouble you, Agent Lynn."
Gwen waved triumphantly, "Good night, Kate! Brother, don't always look so serious on the way, relax a little!"
Lynn looked down at Gwen's receding back, his mouth twitching slightly, but finally he looked at Kate, "Do you live far?"
"Not really, not far." Kate smiled slightly and started walking, "Let's go."
The street quieted down, with only the occasional passing car lights drawing streaks of light in the night. The two walked side by side, but neither spoke. Lynn's gaze subconsciously scanned the surroundings; his steps were steady and relaxed, but his mind still maintained a professional alertness.
Kate seemed to sense his tension and deliberately broke the silence, "Are you always like this? Even walking is like performing a mission."
"Habitual," Lynn replied calmly, his gaze still scanning the surroundings, "Occupational hazard, can't change it."
"Hmm, no wonder Gwen said you needed to clear your head." Kate chuckled softly, her hands in her trench coat pockets, and turned her head to look at him, "But seriously, I rarely see you relaxed. Is there anything you usually do that allows you to let down your guard?"
"Does sleeping count?" Lynn pursed his lips, his tone a little self-deprecating.
Kate couldn't help but laugh aloud, "That's truly relaxing to the extreme."
Lynn turned his head slightly to glance at her, "What about you? You always seem full of energy, as if nothing can stop you."
"Oh, I do stop." Kate's smile deepened, her gaze carrying a hint of teasing, "Like now, walking with you is the slowest pace of my day."
Lynn's mouth twitched almost imperceptibly, but he didn't reply. He and Kate walked a few blocks, gradually moving away from the main road, and the surrounding buildings began to appear older and quieter. Kate pointed to an apartment building ahead, "We're here, it's right there."
Lynn looked up at the four-story red brick building; the streetlights below were dim and flickering, not very bright. His gaze swept around, and after confirming there was no suspicious movement, he withdrew his gaze, "Is this where you live?"
"That's right." Kate nodded, then paused slightly, with a hint of playfulness in her tone, "What? Does it look unsafe?"
"It's alright." Lynn's voice was low and calm, "But if I were you, I'd add another security camera at the entrance."
Kate smiled and shook her head, "Lynn, you need to learn to trust life isn't dangerous every second."
"But for some people, it is," Lynn looked at her seriously, his gaze deep, "Especially reporters like you, always digging up unsettling truths."