At Los Angeles International Airport, a large number of passengers walked out of a plane flying from Namibia.
After passing the immigration inspection, some of these passengers left the airport directly, and some seemed to be waiting for their companions. These people were chatting and laughing. The atmosphere at the airport was as normal as usual.
Johnny, the immigration prosecutor, stood at his post and tirelessly searched everyone's body, pockets, cuffs and luggage. This was also his daily job.
But for some reason, while searching the body of a 1.8-meter-tall strong man, he suddenly felt a creepy feeling.
He didn't know what it felt like, so he subconsciously stared at the other person's face for a few seconds, only to see that the other person's face was a pool of stagnant water. It seemed that nothing in the world could make him have any fluctuations.
The man in front of him exuded a lifeless aura, which even gave Johnny the illusion that he was not alive.
For this reason, Johnny was secretly wary that there would never be a scenario where a vicious gangster tried to pass through the border, and then was found out and took the prosecutor hostage.
But luckily, he found nothing on the other party in the end. It was obvious that although the other party had a Sima face, he was actually a good citizen.
So, he let the other person go.
But soon, Johnny encountered another lifeless passenger.
Johnny felt a little strange in his heart. The temperament of this man was very similar to that of the previous passenger. If one of them was not black and the other was white, he would have thought that the two were brothers.
"Perhaps I've been too tired recently and had some delusions..."
Johnny murmured something lowly, and then stopped thinking about it.
But what he didn't know was that at the checkpoint next door, his colleague had the same idea as him.
There were ten of these lifeless passengers. They blended in with the thousands of people entering Los Angeles and finally integrated into the city...
…
"That's what happened."
In the conference room of the Los Angeles branch of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, more than a dozen senior officials were sitting in the conference room, listening to a bald old man explain, "Our team was attacked unexpectedly. The disappearance of the statue is a trivial matter, but the FBI was attacked I don’t think you can understand the meaning of the attack, right?"
"Is the other party a secret force from Zhongzhou District? Or is it from Beihai District?" someone asked.
"This is not something we can guess, but the answer is obvious. This is an extremely strict organization, and the other party is even suspected of always having a single-soldier optical stealth device... "
"Has the information been reported?" someone asked.
"No, the entire communication system in North America has been attacked by hackers. I even think that such attacks are likely to come from this organization..."
"Are you kidding me?"
The crowd started shouting loudly.
However, at this moment, the door to the conference room suddenly opened slowly with a creak...
Everyone heard the sound and subconsciously turned their heads to look, but saw nothing.
"Windy?"
The leader of the old man looked puzzled, and then he seemed to have thought of something, and his expression suddenly changed, "Be careful..."
Before he finished speaking, the door to the conference room quickly closed with a clang again, and the solid sound insulation material completely isolated the screams and calls for help in the conference room...
…
"Wow!"
Gerardson suddenly opened his eyes and sat up from the bed.
His eyes were confused for a while, and it took a few seconds before he gradually came back to his senses.
"Huh, is this a dream?"
Wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, he realized that he had just had an extremely terrifying nightmare.
At this time, Gerason was lying on a hospital bed. Because his colleague had suffered a gunshot wound before, he did not leave the hospital, but stayed with his colleague's bedside for the whole day.
Gerason looked at his phone and realized that it was late at night again. The whole room was dark, and in front of the bed was his colleague who had fallen asleep after the operation.
Not even Geralson's scream had woken him up.
"call!"
Gerason stood up slowly. After a few hours of sleep, he finally felt better. However, his throat was burning and he seemed to have some symptoms of a cold.
So, he picked up the water glass on the bedside table, poured himself a glass of water, and drank it.
After drinking, Geralson tried to call home again, but there was still a busy signal on the phone.
"In the end what happened?"
Gerardson frowned. He had never encountered such a situation. At first, he thought it was just a communication interruption in his area, but later he discovered that it seemed that the entire Los Angeles had been affected by this situation.
The news from the government is that the communication network in Los Angeles has been attacked by some kind of virus, and even the communication satellites have fallen.
This is really a leaky house with wind and rain...
Hanging up the phone helplessly, Gerason subconsciously took out a pack of cigarettes, took one out and held it in his mouth. Just as he was about to light it, he suddenly realized that this was a ward, so he had to get up and go to the corridor.
It was already early in the morning, and the corridor was extremely quiet. There were only rows of bright lights extending into the depths of the corridor. The rows of wards on both sides of the corridor were like open, dark mouths that seemed to want to swallow up the corridor. everything…
For some reason, Gerason suddenly felt a suppressed emotion.
Shaking his head, Geralson walked to the window at the end of the corridor, silently lit his cigarette, and then took a deep breath with all his strength.
Suddenly, half of the cigarette butt in his mouth burned directly, giving off a violent flame.
call!
As he exhaled again, a thick stream of smoke spurted out, which also slightly relieved the depression in Gerason's heart.
But at this moment, Gerason suddenly heard a faint sound of footsteps behind him.
The footsteps came from the stairwell at the end of the corridor. Originally, there would be no footsteps from such a long distance, but the exaggerated silence in the middle of the night amplified the sound infinitely, so Gerason heard that incomparable calmness. the sound of.
There's something wrong with this footsteps...
Gerardson slowly turned around. As a strictly trained investigator, he could certainly tell the difference between the footsteps of ordinary people and the footsteps of special people.
There seems to be little difference between the footsteps of ordinary people and the footsteps of specially trained personnel, but the footsteps of specially trained personnel will be calmer than ordinary people.
The calmness here means that the intervals between footsteps are more even and the size of the footsteps is more consistent. This is a manifestation of more coordinated use of the body.
Could the visitor be a veteran of the special forces like himself
As one of the elite members of the Cobra Special Forces, although Gerason has been retired for many years, he still maintains an extremely self-disciplined routine. Even his figure is perfectly controlled. The only shortcoming is that he is no longer at his peak.
However, his experience was still there, and at this moment he heard a special feeling from the precise and dull footsteps.
It was an ominous premonition...