With a single kick, Russell sent two Agents flying. Lowering his head, he saw Cypher lying on the ground with his head split open and blood streaming down his face. Being an undercover agent wasn't easy these days. To make it convincing, he was even willing to risk his life. Russell asked, "You little traitor, are you okay?"
"I'm fine, I'm very well..."
Cypher sat sprawled on the ground. Thinking of how Russell had descended from the sky and smashed a helicopter apart halfway down, his legs went weak. Bracing himself with his hands, he shuffled farther away to a safe distance.
Coming back to his senses, Cypher realized what Russell had called him. Panic rose in his heart, and afraid Morpheus might hear, he hurriedly forced himself to say, "You've got the wrong person. My name isn't Little Traitor."
"How could I be wrong? I know all about you colluding with Agent Smith in secret and voluntarily leaking the location of our base. If you're not a little traitor, then who is?"
Russell waved dismissively and consoled him, "I get it. Life in the real world is too exhausting, so you sold out your teammates in exchange for spending the rest of your life carefree in the Matrix Core. Don't worry, I can keep a secret. I won't go blabbing."
Then why the hell were you saying it so loudly?!
Sweat beaded across Cypher's forehead. Feeling Morpheus's furious gaze burning into him from the side, he hated Russell to the core. If Russell hadn't been immune to blades and bullets and able to kill Agents without even blinking, Cypher would have jumped up and fought him to the death.
But Cypher had not resigned himself to dying. There was still room to turn things around. Compared to Russell, a