The Bourne Supremacy

About This Novel

This is a small village with more than a dozen households. It is dilapidated and deserted, with tattered plastic bags and various garbage scattered everywhere. The air is filled with the special smell of burning weeds and cow dung. In the infrared imaging picture, the adobe houses in the village exude a vague green glow. A cement telephone pole stood crookedly on the simple gravel road leading to the outside of the village. Next to it lay an old, hollowed-out transformer. In order not to alert the target, Swain Wittman put down his backpack and climbed in through the earth wall. The old door creaked. Everyone immediately stopped on the spot, and in the quiet night they could only hear the slight sound of the mechanical structure inside the robot. "Action!" Swain Wittman said decisively, and there was no need to cover up at this time. The thick wooden door shattered like pieces of paper, and Swain Wittman rushed into the living room. In the flying dust, Swain Wittman stepped over the old corpse on the ground without hesitation. The bedroom was empty, with a bed made of benches and wooden boards placed against the wall, and two wooden boxes piled in the opposite corner. "Clear!... Clear!" The voice of his teammates came through the earphones. "Clear!" Swain Wittman whispered, then turned and walked out of the room.

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