Trump Card VS Trump Card

But the aging Director Pierce couldn't compare with an athletic female agent.

He had barely bent down, when the gun was kicked away by a high heel.

A white calf was right in front of him. The director had a helpless expression on his face as he slowly straightened. "Agent Romanov, you're really good."

Natasha picked up the gun on the floor and walked back to the table. "Thanks, but do you have anything else to say?"

Even as she moved, she paid attention to Pierce's expression, eyes and body language out of the corner of her eye.

What she saw wasn't comforting.

As a top secret agent who specialized in spying and gathering intelligence, she knew much more about bigshots than regular agents.

Right now, Pierce certainly wasn't acting like he was at the end of his rope.

He might be faking calm, but that was unlikely. The most reasonable answer was that he still had a card up his sleeve.