Chapter 68
Cooperative Operations
The meeting room in the Bald Eagle Society branch building.
Anderson stood at one end of the conference table, his hands resting on the surface, with several rows of people sitting in front of him.
The three people in the first row, John, Cole, and Miles, sat upright side by side, their faces expressionless.
The people in the back rows sat more loosely, nine of them exchanging glances before quickly looking away.
"I called you here today on orders from headquarters," Anderson said.
"After the Tidal Prison was closed yesterday, it opened again today. Our squad and those scattered individuals were wiped out within minutes."
"Moreover, the warden ordered each of them to deliver a message to the reporters, in order to provoke the Bald Eagle Society."
"Two more members of the Bald Eagle Society have gone missing in prison."
He picked up the remote and pressed a button. The screen on the wall lit up, displaying a photo.
"Although the nine of you didn't participate in the prison map operation before, you must have heard of the warden," Anderson said.
"Let me introduce you nine as usual."
"This map boss, through the words of a random operator, declares war on the Bald Eagle Association. Tidal Prison will reopen tomorrow."
"Your objective is to enter the map and eliminate the warden."
Anderson tapped his fingers twice on the table.
"John will lead this operation." He gestured with his chin toward the front row. "John, Cole, and Miles. They're the main force."
Someone in the back row coughed. Although the sound was not loud, the meeting room was very quiet, and the cough was very clear.
Anderson ignored him and continued, "There are nine people in your three teams. Work together."
"director."
The sound came from the middle of the back row. Anderson stopped and looked over.
The speaker was a square-faced man in his thirties, with broad shoulders, who was a head taller than the person next to him even when sitting down. He had a slight smile on his face, but it wasn't a deep one.
"I have something I'd like to ask."
Anderson looked at him.
"Just the nine of us," the square-faced man gestured to either side of him, "cooperating in battle? Cooperating with what? Cooperating with them?"
He gestured with his chin toward the first row.
John, Cole, and Miles sat there, motionless.
What's your problem?
The square-faced man leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "No problem, just checking things out. So, how should we coordinate? Flanking cover? Clearing the perimeter? Or—"
He paused for a moment.
"—Should we charge ahead and die?"
The meeting room was silent for two seconds.
"I know you have concerns about the situation inside Tide Prison," Anderson said, taking a deep breath. "But the warden's actions have seriously damaged the Bald Eagle Society's prestige and the stock market."
"That's why next time all four teams will be sent by our Bald Eagle Association, and tomorrow all nine of you will be using level 5 bulletproof suits and fully modified M4A1s."
"The goal is to defeat him with the greatest force."
The square-faced man nodded and leaned back in his chair.
"As you all know, since this new dangerous area opened, our Bald Eagle Society has sent teams in every time."
"I know you don't know anything about John and the other two, and you've never worked together before."
"But only John and his three-man team ever killed the warden."
Anderson tapped his fingers rhythmically on the conference table.
"I know what you're thinking," Anderson said. "You think you're the veteran agents, the core of the Bald Eagle. But their capabilities are absolutely unquestionable."
Anderson operated the remote control, and the screen played a first-person perspective of John's team killing the warden.
He looked at the nine people.
Anderson said, "This is not an exercise, this is not training. The Bald Eagle Society needs you to defend it."
"What you need to do is go in and use your absolute strength to crush everyone and clear the level."
Anderson paused for a moment, and seeing that no one raised any further objections, he began to introduce the various information about the prison to the nine agents who had never been inside the prison map.
"The NPCs on this map behave very strangely and often ambush you, so be sure to check any blind spots you enter."
"The warden can penetrate smoke grenades and lock onto heads directly. So you must take cover immediately after the warden throws a smoke grenade."
……
"This concludes the information synchronization. The operation will begin tomorrow. Please go back and prepare."
Meeting adjourned.
Finally, the sound of tables and chairs scraping against the floor filled the meeting room.
The nine people, in groups of three, left the conference room one after another with their respective teams.
After leaving the meeting room, the middle-aged, square-faced man spoke to his two teammates in a low voice, saying to the person next to him, "I don't know those three people, but I saw them at the training range last time."
The person next to me asked, "When?"
The square-faced man said, "Last time during target practice, that guy named John stood next to me, holding the gun, firing for half an hour without changing his position or saying a word."
"After we finished shooting, we reported that all of them were bullseyes. Thirty shots, thirty bullseyes."
"I was thinking, 'Is this even human?'"
"Until I finished watching their operations inside the Tidal Prison..."
He suddenly leaned closer to the person next to him and whispered.
"Perhaps they are the legendary agents who use brain-computer interfaces."
The operator who heard this was shocked. "Hey! Don't talk nonsense in the club."
The square-faced man glanced around furtively, and after making sure no one was watching, continued, "Really, I feel like they really are like robots."
"Every time they jumped and aimed inside the prison, it was as if they could lock onto the other person through the wall with such precision."
Another teammate joined the discussion, "If they're really as good as you say, Captain, why did you have us go in with them? And why are we even playing support?"
The square-faced man shook his head slightly. "I don't know, but I have a feeling that things are not simple. This mission was given by headquarters, and we can't refuse, but we must make preparations in advance."
Inside the conference room, Anderson and John's team of three had not yet left the room.
Anderson silently organized the documents in his hands, his expression serious.
"How are you three feeling? Has the brain-computer interface returned to normal?"
John turned his head and looked at Anderson. "Everything is ready." He spoke without emotion or clear tone.
Although he didn't stutter, for some reason it just didn't sound very coherent.
"Has the data package from headquarters finished loading?"
"The data package has been successfully installed."
Anderson grinned, but swallowed the words that were on the tip of his tongue.
He nodded and left the meeting room.
Since the data package was uploaded to the three of them, they have become more silent and aloof, more like robots.
Anderson wasn't a sentimental or indecisive person, but for some reason, he always felt very awkward.
"Humans are becoming more and more like robots, while NPCs are becoming more and more like humans."
Anderson's eye twitched twice.
"That's fucking ironic."