Chapter 321: Night of Slaughter (Part 2) - Happy New Year

However, knowing is one thing, but Lin Ping couldn't be bothered to explain it to Thomson, this native-born American.

Moreover, although the other party belonged to the CIA just like him, they came from different systems.

Lin Ping belonged to the Directorate of Operations, while Thomson came from the Directorate of Science and Technology under the CIA; most of the employees under it were recruited from major prestigious American universities as computer and pharmacology geniuses, as well as some hackers who were forcibly recruited. To put it bluntly, they provided technical support for roughnecks like Lin Ping during necessary operations.

Inside the garage door, two sturdy-looking Asian men were waiting there, the outlines of firearms vaguely visible under their bulging waistbands. After seeing Lin Ping and the others come out, one of them continued to stand guard in place, his eyes scanning outside the garage from time to time.

Another Asian man walked up and said in somewhat stiff Chinese: "Agent Smith is waiting for you all to return. You didn't leave any tails behind, did you?"

"Safe!"

Lin Ping nodded, "Understood, I'll head over right now!"

The two people who came down to check and stood guard in front of the garage door after hearing the movement were both elite Asian agents transferred directly from the United States by the CIA; they could both speak Chinese and were proficient in intrusion, intelligence gathering, and combat.

A Senior Agent burdened with a Task had mysteriously disappeared within China; the CIA could not be too cautious.

Moreover, this was the capital of a powerful nation in the Far East, and furthermore, this was not a stronghold purchased by the CIA in China, but merely a temporary lodging house chosen in the suburbs of Nandu to avoid being targeted by the Chinese counter-espionage system.

After leaving the garage, Lin Ping and his group did not linger in the courtyard of this suburban house, but an agent's instinct still made them look around vigilantly before entering the house.

As soon as they entered the house, they saw two other agents with Asian faces standing guard at the entrance. In the living room not far from the foyer, four other Asian agents were sitting on the sofa; some were boredly smoking, some were holding a remote control to select channels, and two others were applying gun oil to maintain the weapons placed on the coffee table in front of them.

Seeing Lin Ping walk in, everyone nodded tacitly without saying much, and he then took Wang Bo and Thomson upstairs to the second floor.

Unlike the first floor, which was exclusively Asian agents, everyone staying on the second floor had a white face.

Hearing footsteps coming upstairs, a white man who was sitting on a sofa on the second floor with his eyes closed to rest immediately opened his eyes and greeted him with a smile, "You're back, Lin..."

White people and black people are different from the yellow race; there are plenty of people who are sixteen or seventeen years old but look like they are thirty or forty, and there is no shortage of people who are seventy or eighty but look like they are forty or fifty.

For example, the white man in front of Lin Ping looked to be in his early thirties, his muscles solid and full; one could tell at a glance that he was very diligent in exercising on a daily basis.

And he had been serving the CIA for more than twenty years; he was one of the most excellent agents under the CIA's Directorate of Operations, which was the Smith mentioned by the Asian agent earlier.

"Mm..."

Lin Ping responded, and after walking closer, he took the initiative to speak before they could ask, "We didn't have any gains this afternoon, but Wang Bo and Thomson discovered some suspicious points about the target. We are preparing to make arrangements to go to the target's company to see if there will be any gains..."

"No gains?"

Smith frowned as he looked at him, his gaze quickly passing over him and turning directly to Thomson, actually asking him directly: "Tell me, what suspicious points are there!"

Lin Ping felt a wave of displeasure in his heart, but his good self-control kept his face from revealing any emotional fluctuations.

If the world were to rank the countries with the most serious racial discrimination, although it is unlikely that the United States would be ranked first, it would definitely not be missing from the top five.

If this ranking were further limited to 'developed countries', then the first place would definitely be the United States without a doubt.

The status of Chinese-Americans in the United States is definitely not as high as outsiders imagine. Although Chinese people are hardworking, industrious, and intelligent, their economic status is not as good as that of white people, and their political status goes without saying; it is not only far lower than that of African-Americans, but even immigrants from Latin America and the Middle East have a much higher status than Chinese-Americans.

There is no help for it; who let modern China be so unpromising? Although the pigtail braid of the Qing Dynasty had been cut off for more than a hundred years, the pigtail of the Chinese-Americans in the hearts of the Americans had always been there.

Thomson shrugged; coming from the Directorate of Intelligence, his emotional intelligence was not low, otherwise, as a hacker, he would not have decisively agreed to join the CIA after being captured by the CIA in the first place.

However, although he had long felt some discord in the team, what did it have to do with him? At the moment, he re-explained those previous analyses to Smith.

"I see, it seems this Chinese person named 'Sun Cheng' really has a problem!"

Smith thought for a moment, then nodded, looked back at Lin Ping, and said to him: "Since he has a problem, then arrange some manpower to investigate him carefully!"

Such an imperative tone made Lin Ping raise an eyebrow, his inner displeasure deepening.

However, he hesitated for a moment but did not refute him; he gave a light 'mm' as an answer and sat on the side without speaking.

Smith's age was there; barring any accidents, this trip to China should be the last mission he would carry out as a Senior Agent. If it could be completed successfully, he should be promoted to a mid-to-high-level official in the management system after returning to the United States.

Therefore, unless he was truly being targeted by the other party, Lin Ping, whose path to promotion was far more difficult than that of white agents, naturally wanted to build a good relationship with him; it might come in handy in the future.

Seeing him yield, Smith couldn't help but reveal a satisfied smile on his face.

This mission was related to his future promotion, and at nearly fifty years old, he had been able to clearly feel in recent years that his physical strength and energy were far inferior to when he was young, so he had long been seeking a promotion and transfer.

If it were just an ordinary Senior Agent who mysteriously disappeared in China, it would naturally be impossible to shake the CIA's top brass, but if the other party were burdened with a special Task and mission, then the answer would be different.

Clearly, Lin Ping was not the only one who knew about the special nature of William Chen's mission; Smith also knew, and he knew it even more clearly than him.

Therefore, he was also very confident that if he found out William Chen's whereabouts in this mission, captured Ada Wong, or even figured out whether they had really obtained something on 'Nublar Island' that should have belonged to the United States.

Then, by virtue of this merit, Smith would have a high probability of being promoted and serving as a mid-to-high-level official in a certain department of the CIA, which could be considered the best way out for agents like them.

Thinking of this, he, who still needed Lin Ping to exert effort for him, softened his tone quite a bit and took the initiative to show a little goodwill: "You all have been tired for a day, go and rest early. I still have to wait for Robert's report; he has been tracking 'Ada Wong' these past few days..."

Before he had even finished speaking, suddenly, a dull sound of a heavy object falling came from above the roof.

PS:

1. It's 2018, Battleship i wishes all the book friends a healthy body and all the best in the new year.

2. There will be another chapter in a while.