Assassins, Agents (Please Vote)

In an apartment in Brooklyn Borough, New York, Church watched a middle-aged man bound hand and foot, the corners of his mouth pinched into a mean line.

Barney and his men had cleared the entire apartment. After a few gunshots, they dragged several corpses over to Church.

Barney glanced at the middle-aged man tied to the chair with dead-fish eyes, then crooked his mouth and said gravely, "This should be the last one. Your people at the CIA really are nothing special!

No wonder mercenaries like us always have work. Your so-called agents can't even handle a gun!"

Church narrowed his eyes at Barney and said gravely, "That's because you've never met the real field operatives trained to kill. I'm sentimental—that's the reason an old-timer like you still has work."

As he spoke, Church pointed at the middle-aged man, who was so terrified he was about to wet himself, and smiled. "Take a look at this guy. His name is Noah Vison. He 'collected' ten super-agents created by the Reaper Program.

Those super-agents had a few flaws, but every one of them was a top-notch killing machine.

Oh, if that little runt Ethan Hunt hadn't sent me a tip, I never would've known the CIA had someone this brazen.

Hand me a knife, pal. I want to cut out this guy's 'guts' and have a look. Anyone with this much guts must have something special about them."

Barney gave Noah Vison, who was terrified out of his wits, a cold glance. Judging by his appearance alone, the man looked like a perfectly respectable corporate executive. But his damp trouser legs and flared nostrils were enough to make anyone lose their appetite.

Barney pulled a Rambo knife from the sheath on his chest and handed it to Church. Tapping the watch