"Michael Ayak," Johnson said with a grin. "Like Swagger, he's one of the few known marksmen in the world who can hit targets at 1,600 yards, and he's the one who personally took out Archbishop Desmond. If things get tight, I'll have Michael Ayak kept on a ranch in Virginia. You can send Deputy Director Cynthia to capture him there. The ranch will have all the evidence she needs—motive, remote-controlled sniper rifles, everything. Even if she ends up with a dead man, she'll still close the case on President Benjamin Arthur's assassination attempt. Don't you think Cynthia would be in line for a promotion?"
"Not a bad idea. But how do you know this Michael Ayak will just walk into a death trap?"
"Trust me, Senator. I have his entire family under my control. If it weren't for me pulling him out of the rubble, he'd be dead by now."
"Excellent, Colonel. I look forward to your good news. Goodbye," Charles Meen said with a satisfied smile.
"Goodbye, Senator." Johnson watched as Meen walked away, sneering inwardly. If it hadn't been for your idiotic son Robert's naive idea of going to Ethiopia to persuade those locals to relocate—and then foolishly revealing his identity to them, getting himself taken hostage—would we have had to rush in, rescue him, and then wipe out that entire village?
Meanwhile, Meen, expressionless, turned to the middle-aged man beside him. "Contact our people. Track down those who rescued Robert back then, and have them eliminated quietly."
"Understood," the man nodded, hesitating briefly before asking, "And Colonel Johnson?"
Meen kept his eyes on the path. "Have the people we planted near Johnson found the location of his hidden evidence yet?"
"No reports so far," the middle-aged man replied after a moment. "Sir, we've been looking for years with no success. I suspect he might have hidden it outside the U.S."
"Outside the U.S.? Where exactly?"
"Most likely in Africa. Johnson visits his family's burial ground there every six months to honor his late wife and child. We might find something there."
"Whether it's there or not, send someone to investigate. Johnson knows too much. If my son Robert ever plans to run for president, the fact that he was once taken hostage must never get out."
"Understood, sir. I'll arrange for our people to handle these issues and send a team to Africa."
"Yes, but keep it discreet. The team that rescued Robert likely didn't know who they were saving, so take your time; we can't afford to draw attention," Meen instructed cautiously.
"Understood, sir."
As soon as Meen finished speaking, all of this information was relayed by Sunday to William, who was far away in Brazil.
William, who had been in Rio de Janeiro for a few days, was lounging on his 50-foot Riva yacht with Ambrosio in his arms, about to indulge in some relaxation, when Sunday's report interrupted him.
Feeling a bit irritated, he reluctantly released Ambrosio, walked to the yacht's railing, and listened to the detailed update.
When it was over, William raised an eyebrow. "Robert Meen? Where did this guy pop up from, thinking he can run for president?"
"Forget it. Let Benjamin Arthur worry about it. I'm sure Mr. Robert Meen will soon experience the Arthur family's influence firsthand. Can you find a list of the people who saved Robert back then?"
"One moment, sir," Sunday replied. After a few minutes, he continued, "Sir, I'll need authorization to access this file. It's from '96, and it's in the CIA's restricted archives."
"Alright, just don't leave a trace."
Ten minutes later, Sunday reported back. "Sir, there were eleven individuals on that rescue team. One of them should be quite familiar to you."
"Who?" William asked curiously.
"Frank Moses."
"Frank Moses…isn't that one of the Church's aliases?"
After a brief moment of thought, William quickly pieced it together and was about to call and warn the Church, when he suddenly remembered the clean, radiation-free red mercury suitcase nuke from Red 2. Damn, I can't just warn him. If that nuke gets in my hands, Sunday might be able to reverse-engineer it in some remote area, and then I'd have the ultimate trump card for my own survival.
"Deploy spider bots to monitor the Church 24/7. If there's an attack, alert me immediately, and if he's in danger, extract him at once."
"Understood, sir. Mission accepted. The spider bots will monitor Mr. Church around the clock."
"Good. Tell Harry Hart from Kingsman to assign protection for Old Swagger. If Johnson's men show up in London, lock them away in Blacksite Prison and let them rot there for life."
"Yes, sir."
Now that he had all the evidence he needed, William had no intention of dragging things out with Charles Meen or Johnson any longer. He dialed Benjamin Arthur's phone number.
As soon as the call connected, Benjamin answered, his tone irritated. "It's barely past 6 a.m. I hope you're calling with good news because I've been up to my neck dealing with people these past few days."
"Haha, my apologies. Let's just say it's a mix of good and bad news for you. Do you know Charles Meen, the senator from Montana?" William asked with a chuckle.
Benjamin Arthur's irritation shifted to concern at William's mention of "good and bad news." "Of course. Charles Meen and his son Robert Meen are a senator and congressman, respectively. No one in my position could overlook a family with two members in Congress."
"Well, how would you describe your relationship with him? I heard Charles's son Robert has his eyes on the presidency. Did you know that?"
"Does he?" Benjamin quickly understood William's implication. Squinting slightly, he said, "The last time I met Charles, he claimed he and Robert were ardent supporters of mine. He even asked if I'd share some advice with Robert, given his lack of experience as a newly elected congressman, so he could avoid rookie mistakes."
"Well, I hope you didn't get the chance to offer Robert any tips. It would be a shame if your invaluable experience ended up benefiting the person who nearly sent you to meet your Maker."
"Are you serious?" Benjamin's voice was sharp with disbelief.
"What do you think?" William grinned, lying smoothly. "I don't know anyone in the Meen family, and I've no conflicts of interest with them. If it weren't for overhearing certain…conversations, I wouldn't even know who Charles Meen is."
[Check out my Patreon for +200 additional chapters in all my fanfics! Only $5 per novel or $15 for all!!] [[email protected]/Mutter]
[+50 Power Stones = +1 Extra Chapter]
[+5 Reviews = +1 Extra Chapter]