Unbeknownst to the simple residents of Washington, a group of guys classified as dangerous by the C.I.A. had wandered around them.

It was the weekend, and the neighborhood flea market was full of people, everyone picking and choosing from the stalls, and they didn't even notice a short little girl running through it, and Elena quickly made her way through the crowd, her eyes swept over the stalls on both sides of the road.

She didn't seem to find what she wanted, her little brain swayed from side to side, and even the two white ponytails jumped lightly behind her head, flung in the other direction as her gaze moved.

Lin Cheng followed behind Elena step by step, and also looked at the miscellaneous bits and pieces on the stall.

It was the first time he had come to this flea market in the United States, and if it weren't for the blond and blue-eyed Americans on the streets, he would have even suspected for a moment that he had returned to the thrift market stalls in Panjiayuan, for no other reason, because all of this was familiar.

Here, you can see hundreds of individual businesses with stalls that each family does not need, and those who are interested in goods will exchange other things they don't need with you, or buy them directly with money.

Elena walked through many stalls before finally stopping at a deserted stall in the corner of the flea market.

The stall owner was a bearded, somewhat unkempt, white man in his mid-thirties.

He was dressed in shabby clothes, but his stall was stocked with outdated electronics, such as dirty old cell phones or Walkmans, tape recorders and discarded laptops.

Lin Cheng, who was following Elena, looked at the stall owner, and immediately realized that the other party might be a homeless man, and the goods on the stall might have been picked up from somewhere, or stolen from somewhere, in short, the price was not high, and there was no market to speak of.

No wonder no one came to pick something.

Even if Lin Cheng and Elena stood in front of his stall, the stall owner was also lacking in interest, and he had no intention of soliciting customers at all.

Elena picked and flipped through his booth, selecting some electronic devices that seemed to be completely useless, and then took a small screw taper from the other party's booth.

After finishing the selection, she looked at Lin Cheng expressionlessly, like a young lady urging the housekeeper to pay quickly.

Lin Cheng shrugged his shoulders, took out a ten-dollar bill from his wallet, and threw it on the stall.

The stall owner seemed to be in spirit, grabbed the banknote in his hand, and checked the authenticity of the banknote against the sky, because the banknote given by Lin Cheng was too new, and the new one was as if it had just been printed.

"Ten dollars, are you passing the homeless, young man?"

"It's just some garbage, and it's a tip, no thanks."

Lin Cheng took Elena's hand, didn't care what the stall owner's expression was, turned around and left, and took Elena and Mr. Singh to settle down in a safe house of the Assassin League in the nearby area that he had just asked the fox about.

After arriving at the safe house, Elena set up a table with the things she had bought at the flea market, and when the sun went down, she successfully used the tools in the safe house stronghold to rub out a USB flash drive-sized transceiver that could be used to send and receive signals.

And Lin Cheng is also busy with another thing - through the mobile app of Continental Hotel, a new reward has been posted on the bounty page.

The bounty was probably about helping to forge an identity that would allow him to legally enter and exit the CIA headquarters, preferably one with access to the CIA data center, and the only requirement was that the identity must be Asian, or he would not be able to get in.

The Continental Hotel is worthy of being a place full of talents, and soon someone accepted Lin Cheng's reward.

At about nine o'clock in the evening, the Continental Hotel in Washington sent someone to deliver a package to Lin Cheng, which contained an identity card, a cleaner's uniform, and an identity manual.

The fake identity is naturally a cleaner affiliated with the CIA headquarters, and the manual specifies the working hours and scope of each day, and it happens that there is a need to clean the ground in the data center, as well as the password and password for tomorrow morning.

This kind of counterfeiting ability can be called excellence, and it is absolutely seamless.

After all this was done, all the preparations for the whole operation were almost complete, and it was only necessary to wait for a reply from the other team, which was the Frank three-man team, which at this time stopped right on the side of the road in front of the Russian Embassy in Washington.

"Frank, are you sure you want to go in, it's like sending me to death, last time they took the wire and did something to me - very bad thing."

Looking at the iron-clad building of the Russian Embassy nearby, Marvin Boggs had a look of trepidation on his face, he had experienced some very bad things here, so much so that he didn't feel good about it, or he was very disgusted with it.

"Marven is right, it's never a good idea."

Even Sarah Rogan, who was traveling with her, was skeptical of the crazy idea and didn't think it was a good idea.

"We didn't have a choice...... Marven, can you keep this for me, I'll be back soon. ”

Although Frank Morgan also felt that this was an unwise plan, it was the only way they could solve the matter, and they could only put on an open face, put the gun on his body for self-defense in Marvin's hand, and then opened the car door.

"Frank, be careful."

Sarah also opened the car door, and before Frank left, she gave him one last word, but Frank just smiled at her.

This is the Russian embassy in the US capital, when Frank walked into the embassy area, it was equivalent to stepping into Russian soil, and the surveillance probe installed in the corner immediately aimed at the uninvited guest who came late at night, until Frank walked to the door of the embassy.

"Tell Ivan Svanov that Frank Moses has come to visit him."

After the surveillance probe successfully captured the image of Frank Moses pressing the doorbell, he was immediately recognized by facial recognition software, and after confirming that the identity was correct, the door of the embassy next to Frank Moses opened a cold floodgate.

The moment Frank walked into the embassy, he immediately stretched out the muzzles of a dozen rifles and aimed them at his head.

Although Frank Moses is a retired CIA agent, he was once a member of the Russian government's hostile forces, so it is not surprising that he should be treated in this way.

"I don't have a weapon on me, please take me to Ivan Svanov, I have something very important to tell him."

Frank slowly raised his hands, put them behind his head and hugged his bald head, and said with a blank face, and in response to him was a cold butt.