American comics: This guy is crazy.

Chapter 38: I'm not pretending anymore, I'm laying my cards on the table.

"Boss, I want to report someone for betrayal."

Allen immediately approached Karpov and reported Wilson for defecting to S.H.I.E.L.D.

Karpov held multiple positions and spent two days a week at the weapons development bureau.

"Who?"

Karpov frowned and asked.

Treason is a serious crime. With the current tense international situation, the biggest concern is internal problems. Once discovered, they will be purged immediately.

"That traitor Wilson is! I heard he made an appointment with S.H.I.E.L.D. agents to leave at nine o'clock tomorrow night." Allen said indignantly, "I can't believe he's that kind of person. The country has given him so much, yet he still covets wealth and status. Unlike me, I'm perfectly content sweeping garbage."

"..."

Karpov didn't believe it at all.

Wilson had just been given an important position and his future looked bright, but he must have lost his mind to come up with the decision to defect to another country.

"I immediately ordered him to be interrogated," Karpov replied dismissively.

He was even considering firing Allen, who was playing the framing game and might do something crazy in the future.

As for Wilson, he was given unconditional trust.

"Do not act rashly."

Allen closed the door and the window, lowering his voice to say, "This is my chance to serve my country."

"You want to serve your country?"

Karpov's expression was strained, but he said earnestly, "It's good that you have such high ideals, but you should act within your capabilities."

"Thank you for your appreciation, boss. Let me explain the plan."

Allen didn't understand what the other person meant and blurted out his plan: "Boss, Wilson is going to flee tomorrow night, and I'll go with him, then infiltrate S.H.I.E.L.D. and send the intelligence back home."

You brat, why are you so disobedient? You even want to be a spy. Please don't lower the professional standards of the spy industry.

"Very good, what kind of cooperation is needed?"

Karpov agreed verbally, but in his heart he was thinking about how to find an opportunity to get rid of him.

Allen clenched his fist and said domineeringly, "Everything is under control. I can finally be as useful as a piece of toilet paper."

"..."

The next day, at nine o'clock at night.

A speedboat docks on the bank of a large river in the suburbs.

Carrying two suitcases, Wilson shivered in the cold as he hid in the woods.

The Soviet Union is known as the land of harsh winters, as winters come early and are long, with temperatures in some areas dropping to minus thirty degrees Celsius. Every year, there are drunkards who don't return home overnight and are found frozen solid the next day.

"Dr. Duke, we can set off now."

The middle-aged man pointed to the speedboat and reminded him.

"Let's go then."

Wilson glanced towards the capital, a pang of guilt gripping his heart.

The two walked towards the shore under the cover of night, preparing to board a ship and leave the territory of the Su Kingdom.

"Feed...feed...feed..."

At that moment, the strange noise caused the people on the speedboat to raise their weapons.

Alan, who had made the sound, came running from the other end of the woods and shouted, "You're under arrest! Take off your pants and lick my ass right now!"

Click.

Guns were loaded, and the backup team prepared to take care of Allen.

"Don't shoot."

Wilson recognized Allen at a glance, and out of consideration for Allen's life-saving grace, he naturally couldn't bear to watch him die on the spot.

"Allen, stop fooling around. It's dangerous here. Let's leave immediately," Wilson advised.

"If you're afraid of death, don't be a Su citizen."

Allen made a gun gesture with his hands, blew on it with his fingertips, and said proudly, "But I'm afraid of dying."

"..."

Is being afraid of death something to be proud of?

"Ah Sen, precisely because I'm afraid of dying, I want to go with you."

Allen put his arm around Wilson's shoulder and said, "Everyone in the department knows our relationship is ambiguous. If you leave, I'll be the first one to suffer."

"You're just a cleaner, they won't make things difficult for you."

You're not just a cleaner, you're mentally ill too. Who's going to target you for no reason?

"You bastard, you're enjoying all the riches and glory, and now you're turning your back on me, huh?"

Allen forced back tears, trying to appear as if he had been used and then abandoned: "I was wrong about you after all."

"What are you going to do?"

Wilson scratched his head in frustration, completely baffled as to what Allen was up to.

Allen said seriously, "Let's wander the world together and be a pair of crazy lovers."

"You want to come along? I need to ask them."

Time was of the essence; every second that passed could lead to unforeseen changes. Wilson then turned to ask the backup personnel.

The answer was no problem.

When we came, we considered that Wilson had a family, so we prepared for three people.

Allen happily boarded the speedboat and headed straight to the sea to meet and pick up the cargo ship.

Looking out over the vast sea, it was an endless expanse of darkness.

"I am the first generation of the Caribbean Pirates, the man who will one day become the Pirate King."

Allen stood at the bow of the ship, mouth agape, facing the cold sea breeze.

"Ah la la la la..."

The sea breeze rushed into my mouth, making my cheeks bulge.

After a long while, Allen said with satisfaction, "Even drinking the northwest wind can fill you up. It tastes a bit salty, so it's been added to Allen's deluxe private kitchen."

After three hours of rapid navigation at sea, the target cargo ship was finally located.

The Soviet Union and America were allies and traded with each other, with most ocean-going freighters able to directly enter each other's waters.

Of course, everyone knows about the poaching, they just haven't brought it up openly.

On the surface it is a cargo ship, but in reality it has a hidden world inside.

The lower level of the ship's cabin has been converted into an office area, where many S.H.I.E.L.D. agents are receiving and working on telegrams.

This is a supply ship, specifically designed to remotely deliver supplies to special agents on missions, and also to provide support and assistance.

"Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D., Dr. Duke."

"No need to welcome us."

Peggy Carter looked at the overly familiar Allen with a puzzled expression.

"Ignore him," Wilson said awkwardly. "There was a little incident."

"It doesn't matter, as long as you're safe," Carter said with a smile.

Allen glanced at the white paper on the table beside him and began to draw on his own.

We must stir things up.

Allen feels restless if he doesn't cause trouble for even a minute.

Wilson and Carter chatted for a while, discussing the treatment they would receive upon arriving in America.

The usual approach to dealing with experts who surrender is a money offensive.

"I'm not pretending anymore."

Allen shouted, pointing at Wilson, "He's a fake. I designed the AK rifle."

Immediately, the eyes of many agents turned to them.

"Allen, what nonsense are you talking about!"

Wilson felt a pang of panic, but quickly regained his composure. Who would believe that a madman could design firearms?

"Ah Sen, to be honest, I was the one plotting against you."

With a sly grin, Allen revealed the truth: "I drew that blueprint for you so that S.H.I.E.L.D. would pay attention to you and guide what happens next. It wasn't your own achievement, but you were just sitting back and reaping the benefits. You must have been feeling anxious and uncertain. I tricked you a little, and you actually fell for it."

"How can you prove that you designed it?" Wilson questioned.

Allen laid the blueprints on the table, making them clear to everyone.

It is another firearm with a completely new structure, which is quite different from the AK rifle.

"You can prove yourself when S.H.I.E.L.D. recruits, why frame me?"

At this point, Wilson loudly questioned himself, saying he had been fooled by a mentally ill person and was losing face.

"That's different. The Soviet Union is after you, the AK design expert. I'm just a cleaner."

"..."

Is this a plan that only a madman could come up with?

He framed someone, slipped away unnoticed, and played the game with incredible skill.

(End of this chapter)