"Come on, why are you so scared? Don't you want to at least hear what it's about?" William looked at Wilson, exasperated at his friend's immediate refusal. "I promise nothing will happen to you."
Wilson's eyes darted around, and he grinned. "Haha, I don't trust you. Unless you're with me, if something goes wrong, you'll bear the responsibility with me. Only then will I feel safe."
William thought for a moment and sighed. "Fine. I was going to let you take all the credit, but if you insist on sharing it, so be it. Wait here a moment."
He nodded to Wilson and went to the underground equipment room, retrieving a discreet earpiece and communication device, along with a wristwatch-style bomb detector. He then handed them to Wilson.
As William explained the equipment's features and precautions, Wilson grumbled while inspecting the earpiece. "Couldn't you just give me a phone like yours?"
"Do I look like an idiot?" William shot back, glaring at Wilson. "What if you lost it or it got stolen? If the tech leaked, how would I get you to pay me back? You couldn't afford it even if I sold you."
Surprisingly, Wilson wasn't offended by William's scorn, as he knew there were too many people around him who could easily swipe something as valuable as that phone.
"Couldn't you give me a stripped-down version that only makes calls? You could patent it and sell it. People would buy it just for the sleek design."
"The patents are already in the process of being registered, but mass production isn't feasible yet. The production cost alone is two to three thousand dollars, and who's going to pay five or six thousand for a phone?" William said, cutting off Wilson's argument. He smiled and continued, "If you're not in a rush to get home, why don't you stay here tonight? Tomorrow, I'll take you along for the big scene and let you play the hero."
"Forget it. I don't want to be a hero. If it weren't for you being there, I wouldn't be stupid enough to get anywhere near danger." Wilson rolled his eyes. "Alright, I'm heading home. Call me before tomorrow's action. My place is just a ten-minute walk from here."
After seeing Wilson off, William went upstairs to the small sitting room, where he found Catherine looking grim and Gareth visibly frustrated.
"Good evening, Catherine," William said, sitting next to her on the couch, grinning. "No need to worry anymore. We've identified the culprits behind the bombings and also found the mastermind controlling Arthur, the leader of Kingsman."
Hearing that both the culprits and mastermind had been identified, Catherine's face finally showed a hint of relief as she asked, "Who?"
William placed his phone on the table, snapped his fingers, and a holographic display appeared. The faces and profiles of four men and one woman were projected. Sunday's voice then came through.
"Good evening, Ms. Catherine, Mr. Gareth."
"Good evening, Sunday," Catherine and Gareth greeted in unison.
The image of Patrick Ollie enlarged while the other four faces shrank. "Patrick Ollie, the bomber who placed the explosive device in the clothing store. We identified him by the scar on his hand. Once we had him, the rest was easy."
The suspects' hideouts were then displayed in a virtual image. One close-up even showed a man welding and assembling a bomb.
The camera focused on the bomb, and a series of data comparisons appeared. A few moments later, Sunday reported, "This appears to be a bomb disguised as a laptop battery. Its power is equivalent to three grenades detonating simultaneously."
"How's the preparation of the disguised bomb going?" a voice suddenly asked.
The spider robot adjusted its camera, revealing a man in a towel, freshly showered, approaching the bomb maker.
Turning to the man, the bomb maker replied, "It'll be ready by tomorrow, boss, but we're missing a courier."
"Maggie is handling that. Just make sure you don't mess this up, or we won't meet the deadline. Haha, in two days, there's the European Security Conference in Rome. The UK Security Secretary Catherine and the other officials will definitely be attending. We'll deliver a special package and send them all straight to hell."
"No problem. We'll have it ready by tomorrow afternoon."
"Good."
As the two continued chatting, William instructed, "Sunday, send a message using Thomas McGraw's code, telling the leader to take his men to the freight terminal tomorrow to investigate a shipment that could threaten their organization's safety. Tell them it might be arriving by ship to Belfast."
"Message sent, Sir."
Moments later, the leader's phone beeped with a notification.
He looked at his phone, surprised, and said to his associate, "Why would we get an order like this?"
"What's going on, boss?" the bomb maker asked immediately.
"The higher-ups want me to take some men to investigate the freight terminal. They say there's a special shipment that could threaten our safety, and it's being shipped to Belfast." The leader thought for a moment, unsure. "Weren't we told not to communicate during the operation? And this kind of reconnaissance shouldn't be our job unless it's extremely urgent or highly classified."
"Maybe it's because of the need for secrecy. If you're unsure, why not contact Thomas and ask?"
After thinking it over, the leader shook his head. "We bombed that clothing store, so Thomas is definitely under surveillance by the Brits. It's too risky to call him. Use the secure email instead."
"Got it, I'll send the email now."
Half a minute later, the email was sent, but Sunday intercepted it directly on the email provider's server, preventing it from reaching Thomas McGraw's account.
A few seconds later, the intercepted email, filled with encrypted text, appeared on the virtual screen. "Sir, this is an encrypted email. Decrypting it will take approximately 13 hours."
"Why so long? Didn't I just upgrade you?" William asked, puzzled.
After thinking for a few seconds, Gareth asked, "Sunday, can you access the previous email exchanges between them and Thomas McGraw on the email provider's server?"
"Yes. Over the past few weeks, four emails were exchanged through this account. Although they've been deleted, the main server still holds the records."
"Perfect," Gareth said with a grin. "We already have a good idea of the contents. Try decrypting it using keywords like 'bombing,' 'freight terminal,' 'secrecy,' and 'contact.'"
"Understood, testing now."
After a few seconds, Sunday announced, "Email decrypted. The contents inquire about the freight terminal investigation and the reason for changing the contact codes."
"Contact codes?" Catherine asked in surprise. "We only changed the codes today, which means this guy holds a pretty high position."
"Who cares how high his rank is? These guys are just pawns now. If it weren't for me planning to have them bomb Valentine's ships and planes, we'd be watching the anti-air division arrest them in real time," William said with a smirk.
"Who's Valentine?" Catherine asked, puzzled.
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