"For the child? Hmm, alright. But come on, tell me what you're really thinking. This doesn't sound like something a true negotiator would do."
If William had known what Benjamin was thinking at that moment, he would probably have slapped himself, regretting not recognizing Benjamin's shamelessness sooner.
"First, I'm a father," Benjamin shrugged. "My child is only nine, and he lost his mother only six months ago. If there's a choice, I don't want him growing up being known as a warmonger's son. It would only worsen his mood and maybe even make him resent me as a lousy father."
"Second, I can't bring myself to act aggressively toward people, knowing full well that this crisis wasn't caused by an enemy nation."
"And what if people from the desert country are actually involved in this crisis?" William asked, smiling.
"Then I wouldn't hesitate," Benjamin replied firmly.
"Alright, pal, in this moment, a divine light shines behind you—it's so blinding, I almost can't bear to look," William said with a mockingly serious expression, which made Benjamin secretly delighted.
But William's next words quickly made him realize that William, though somewhat affected by his words, was far from convinced. William grinned, saying, "So, if you can guarantee to help me secure the military contract, then from now on, you're in charge. Besides, I can't stand some of these arms companies either. I heard a few of them have their sights set on anti-ballistics technology."
"Thank you," Benjamin said, satisfied to have achieved the outcome he wanted. He stood up enthusiastically, shook William's hand, and praised him. "I knew you had a conscience. Otherwise, you wouldn't care so much about an unrelated little girl. You're a good person."
"No, no, no. I'd rather be the devil than a 'good person.' Just pretend I'm helping you out of respect for the Arthur family. But don't put that label of 'good guy' on me, or you might regret it one day."
"Who knows what'll happen in the future? Right now, you're a good person," Benjamin chuckled, giving William a pat on the back of his hand. "Alright, let's get down to business. I need to let the world know I'm alive and safe, so that Eli, that scoundrel, doesn't end up as the acting president."
"And as for you," Benjamin gestured toward the cameras in the bunker, "how about you handle these thugs trying to blow their way in here?"
"Not a chance," William refused without a second thought. "As long as you prevent Eli from stepping in as acting president, our mission is complete. We're safe here. We can just wait until the soldiers sweep in and finish off the intruders. As for those fools outside, even if they tear down the whole White Palace, they can't harm us. Why would I go out there and risk my life?"
"No, you're wrong, my friend. If we really want to stop this war, then I need you to go out there. If possible, I'll go out myself to take down some of the criminals and rescue the hostages," Benjamin said seriously, locking eyes with William. "I need public recognition, widespread support, and rescuing dozens of hostages and reclaiming the White Palace is the only way I can gain the leverage I need to stand up against the arms manufacturers."
"Helping me is helping yourself too, isn't it?"
"Hah, in the end, I'm just the muscle, while you reap all the benefits," William sneered. "You're perfect for the presidency, coming up with ideas that work out best for you so fast. And, let me guess, after we're out there, you're planning to put on a show and 'take out' Amir Bakawi again, right? Parade it around for show?"
"If it's possible, that would be ideal," Benjamin didn't deny it, nodding instead. "Rest assured, if we succeed, you'll be known as the only person to have saved the U.S. president three times. Not only will history remember you, but so will people around the world. From now on, wherever you go, you'll be regarded as America's truest friend and a lifelong ally of the Arthur family."
"Screw that," William snorted. "You said all this before in England, and I've yet to see any real benefits. Trusting anyone is risky, but trusting someone like you is just foolish."
"Whether you believe it or not, time will prove your choice today was the right one, Mr. Devonshire," Benjamin said, ignoring William's discontent. He now understood that dealing with someone as selfish as William required only putting the rewards directly in front of him; ideals and justice were useless for bargaining.
"Oh, right, if you need weapons, you can check out the armory," Benjamin gestured toward a row of cabinets in the bunker.
Rolling his eyes, William got up and walked over to Emily. "Dear Emily, I'm going out to deal with the bad guys. Would you bless me for victory?"
Emily's face brightened when she saw William approach, but she hesitated at his words, then nervously asked, "Do you have to go?"
"Yes, because there are good people out there waiting for me to save them. So, I need you to stay here and behave, understand, sweetheart?"
Emily lowered her head in thought and then said, "Then I'll pray for you, Mr. Devonshire."
She reached out and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll be waiting here for you to come back and get me. Don't forget, Mr. Devonshire."
"Of course, I could never forget my sweet, kind little Emily," William said, patting her head. He thought to himself that if it weren't for this little angel, he might not have cared if a war broke out. Even though he negotiated benefits from Benjamin, deep down, William knew that he understood all too well which side profited more if war actually broke out.
Shaking his head, he realized that power, money, and influence had indeed clouded his judgment. Here he was, nearly hoping for war. He leaned down and kissed her on the top of her head. "Thank you, my little angel."
Heading to the weapons room, he put on a large tactical vest, grabbed an M4, eight magazines, two Colt M2000s, and four magazines. Every available slot on his vest was filled with grenades.
When William walked back, armed to the teeth, Benjamin blurted out, "What the hell, are you trying to blow up my entire house?"
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