Although Jay had a psychological expectation of the terrifying level of the mysterious enemy he might face, when he saw the missile dragging a dazzling trajectory and flying menacingly towards the window of the Daily Planet Building, he still It is to refresh the assessment of the enemy's forces once again.
Just throw a missile remotely and casually into a whose window in such broad daylight? Could this be any crazier?
Well, maybe as a novice, he still didn't think much about it. Bringing an unidentified USB flash drive to the Daily Planet might be a bad idea next to bringing it home. If Helena knew about it, it would be a good idea. Lecture. But that's something to reflect on later; now, he has much more pressing issues to deal with.
When he recovered from his shock, he had less than a second to react before the missile flew through the window. The long burning trail smashed the window glass and rushed into the room with unparalleled kinetic energy. Jay closed his pupils suddenly, stood up short, and raised his palm to catch it with one hand when the metal bullet flew in.
The supersonic missile was forcibly stopped in an instant, the engine at the rear spewed flames frantically, the spiral-shaped red-hot air flow violently reversed, and the hot hurricane swept across the room. All the papers and documents that were not pressed on the desks were pumped up one after another, and like clothes thrown into the washing machine, they were caught in the violent whirlwind of the airflow, and the snow-white papers flew all over the sky, like heavy snow.
The missile fixed in mid-air is like a stubborn bull, stubbornly and forcefully trying to break free. Jay's five fingers sank deep into the shell of the missile head, and the warhead was severely deformed.
After about ten seconds of stalemate, the thruster of this hot weapon seemed to have finally contributed its last trace of energy. Jay felt the thrust from the palm of his hand weaken little by little, the tail flame of the thruster gradually extinguished, the missile released its last strength and lay limply in his hand like a deflated ball.
Jay was about to sigh relief, but then he realized it wasn't over yet. He could feel that the hot weapon in his hand was still moving under the white-gray shell, releasing radiation invisible to the naked eye, like a dam in urgent need of flood discharge.
Without giving him much time to think, Jay turned into an afterimage and flew out of the smashed window, rushed into the sky at the fastest speed that could be achieved in an instant, and then threw the toy in his hand with all his strength. Out. With its metal shell twisted and deformed, the missile flew high into the air like a stick, disappearing into the sky instantly. The dazzling firelight was released at about a few hundred meters, and the thunderous roar was delayed for a moment before reaching Jay's ears.
The power seems to be quite impressive.
He floated in the air, wiped his sweaty forehead with his sleeve, and took two deep breaths. Not because the missile could damage him, he was nervous because he had never encountered such absurdity before. There was a blank space in his brain for a while, and putting the beating heart back in place was difficult.
How does this make people calm down? Someone just threw a powerful missile to blow up a floor into his window!
It took Jay about ten seconds to cool his scorching brain, which he thought was pretty efficient for a first-timer. He returned to the office and unplugged the USB flash drive from the chassis of the old desktop. The red indicator light on the USB flash drive finally stopped flashing. There is likely a positioning system hidden in it—the culprit of that long-range strike.
But it must be said that this makes the contents of the USB stick and the whole incident seem even more mysterious. The sudden appearance of the missile from the window aroused a particular curiosity in Jay, and he couldn't help but start to imagine what this "SDE project" was, a project reserved for such a big fight.
Then, the remaining questions fell to this General Simon Gilson.
Hopeful, ly he can provide some answers.
As for how to find this, General Simon Gilson? Well, of course, it's up to the professionals.
"Gilson? That's the name?" Helena sat in front of a computer in a base and answered Jay's call, and at the same time started to search for the name on her computer, "Let me see... ... found, veteran officer, fifty-seven years old. I'm sending his information to your phone now."
"Thanks a lot," Jay said. "It's been a huge help."
"But what do you need to do with this man?" Helena asked. "Is there anything worth noting about him?"
"Well... a little bit, I'm still investigating some clues, and I will contact you when there is any result."
After speaking, he hung up the phone, his voice sounded urgent, and Helena guessed that he must have made an extraordinary discovery. She put away her phone, her eyes fell back to the screen in front of her, and she brought up the interface she was browsing before Jay interrupted.
SDE Project.
When Helena used the internal network here to start her investigation, starting with Carey International Creative, a load of electronic locks that required high-level access popped up on her interface. After she had spent hours bypassing the mess of security protocols, the above items popped up on the screen.
Intuition tells her she's in the right place. Helena double-clicked to try to open the item, but another warning bar popped up in front of her, marked in striking red. A password bar was given in the center to prompt her to enter the password, with a hint at the bottom: "Warning! Top secret! Any access requires first-level authorization!"
Theoretically speaking, she should have stopped her horse when this prompt appeared. Otherwise, it may cause dire consequences, and this seriousness does not just refer to the general punishment in the organization. But the more so, the more it aroused her urge to climb over the high wall and explore the restricted area. She ensured no one was paying attention and secretly took out a portable hacking device from her universal belt.
Most of her gear comes from government agencies, but not this one. This is a device programmed and designed by a world-class hacker girlfriend she knows, which can overcome most firewalls in the world in one minute, almost equal to the master key of the information world.
She plugged the device into the organization's mainframe computer, and the words "Cracking" quickly appeared on display. The green progress bar moved exceptionally slowly, and it would freeze for ten seconds from time to time, and it seemed that the opponent was also tough to deal with.
It took nearly two minutes for the green progress bar to finally climb to the position near the end, and it was about to succeed. Helena held her breath, waiting for the words "Crack Completed" to jump on the screen at any time, and she couldn't help but look forward to it. However, that didn't happen. The entire green progress bar suddenly disappeared from her screen just as the process was less than a millimeter away from completion.
Helena was stunned; this was a situation she had never encountered before.
The computer monitor seemed to flash, and a new warning popped up on the red warning bar: "Warning! Unauthorized sensitive operations detected! The information has been automatically uploaded; please stand by!"
Helena was stunned for a few seconds, then scolded in a low voice: "Fuck!"
She turned off the machine as quickly as possible, got up quickly, and walked out the door without thinking about it. She walked quickly through the crowded corridors in the base and headed straight for the exit but unexpectedly bumped into her boss at the corner of the last passage.
Victor Sergey, a well-dressed, sturdy middle-aged man with red waxed hair gleaming in the fluorescent light, exaggeratedly high hairline. The corners of his mouth twitched just right, and he wore a sympathetic and amiable smile.
He's the highest-ranking person in charge here.
When Helena caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye, she secretly screamed severely. She lowered her head and pretended not to see him, trying to ignore him and walk straight over. But this idea was dispelled entirely after Victor took the initiative to shout "Huntress."
Helena stopped in her footsteps, and when she turned her head, she put on an indifferent, frozen look: "Yes, sir."
"You look in a hurry." Victor stepped forward with a smile and patted her on the shoulder, "Is it convenient to tell me where to go in a hurry?"
Victor was half a head taller than her, and at such a close distance, she had to raise her head slightly to look up at the other party: "I just found some clues from old cases to confirm."
Helena admitted that her performance did not reveal the slightest flaw, and even her heartbeat did not fluctuate. Victor seemed to accept her statement, nodding slightly in praise: "You have been working hard; I admire you very much, Huntress; you are one of my best agents..."
As he spoke, he walked half a circle around her intentionally or unintentionally and stopped behind her. He put his hands lightly on her shoulders, leaned close to her ears, and whispered in a low voice that only she could hear: "...but maybe you have some so good, even past head."
Helena felt her heart skip a beat, and there was only a momentary fluctuation.
"You're sure," Victor whispered in that mosquito-like voice, "there's nothing to hide from me, right?"
"Yes, sir," Helena said calmly.
"Very good." Victor nodded slightly, opened the distance again, and his voice returned to normal, "Good girl."
"Then, sir, if there are no other instructions..."
"Oh, of course." Victor nodded. "Go ahead. Sorry for the delay."
"It's ok."
Helena walked away without changing her face, but she gritted her teeth when she turned her back to Victor. She made herself seem as calm as she could walk the rest of the hallway and started running as she entered the stairwell.
She had seven floors to go down, but she didn't choose the elevator because the small electric box could be controlled remotely, making dumplings easier to make. Facts have proved that her caution was proper. The moment she just descended the first floor, two agents with guns rushed into the stairwell side by side and shot her without any explanation.
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Helena leaped with one hand on the stair railing, dodging the bullet and falling between the two agents like a professional gymnast. The two responded quickly, but that didn't change the ending that Helena, within three moves, subdued them. One of them was kicked by Helena with a broken leg, and the other was thrown over her shoulder and rolled down the escalator.
"Sorry," Helena said to the two while gasping, "but this is not a personal grudge."