Following William's instructions, Christmas let Sean Brewer go. Guided by Sunday, he made his way to an old apartment building in Paris's 13th district, where Gunnar was waiting.
Entering the room, Christmas glanced at the monitor showing an unconscious Zoey. Hesitating, he asked, "Boss, are we really going to leave her fate unchecked?"
Hearing this, Gunnar narrowed his eyes, his head slightly tilted downward as he stared at Christmas from above. "You want to save her?"
Though Gunnar's tone and gaze were unsettling, Christmas didn't take offense. He understood that Gunnar was the most ruthless member of their team and fiercely loyal to William. After all, William had given Gunnar a new life and, more importantly, saved his daughter. Gunnar's gratitude had only grown since his daughter Sophia started working at Chelsea F.C., attempting to get closer to William. This forced William to avoid her out of respect for Gunnar, which further deepened Gunnar's loyalty.
After a brief pause, Christmas clarified, "Don't you think she seems... innocent?"
"Innocent?" Gunnar snorted, shaking his head. "Come on, man. Once you're involved, no one is innocent. She let herself be manipulated into planting a bomb. Sure, maybe she didn't intend to kill anyone, but the chaos caused by a bombing is far worse than taking a few lives."
Christmas sighed silently, slumping into a chair as he closed his eyes in a semblance of rest. Deep down, he knew Gunnar was right. Zoey's naivety didn't absolve her of her actions.
Gunnar, on the other hand, positioned himself by the window, keeping watch on the street and the building across with a pair of binoculars.
Three hours later, at 4 a.m., Gunnar called out, "They're here."
Christmas opened his eyes, immediately joining Gunnar by the window. Raising his own binoculars, he watched as two plainclothes men, carrying tracking devices, entered the building where Zoey was being held.
When Christmas recognized one of the men as Otel Youssou, the captain of the Special Incident Response Unit, his expression hardened. Gunnar, meanwhile, smirked mockingly. "Looks like they're saving us a lot of trouble."
"Yeah," Christmas muttered, gripping his binoculars tightly. His knuckles turned white, but he remained silent and motionless as he watched Youssou enter Zoey's room and shoot her, killing her instantly.
Gunnar let out a quiet sigh of relief. He had been worried that Christmas might act impulsively and jeopardize William's plan. Minutes later, Sunday's voice came through their earpieces. "The footage is crystal clear, gentlemen. You have six hours to rest."
Gunnar stretched and flopped onto the couch. Grabbing two beers from the table, he tossed one to Christmas and took a long swig of his own. "I'll sleep. You keep watch. Wake me in four hours."
"Got it," Christmas replied, cracking open his beer as he nodded.
With all loose ends tied up, Otel Youssou was feeling confident. He made a call to Victor Gael, head of the Paris Interior Ministry and Police Commissioner, to confirm that their plan was proceeding smoothly.
After hanging up, Youssou instructed his team, "Upload the footage we recorded earlier to the internet."
"Understood, boss," one of his subordinates replied. Minutes later, videos showing police officers beating suspects, conducting harsh interrogations, and targeting individuals of North African descent began flooding French social media.
Later that morning, during a security briefing, Youssou, dressed in tactical gear, knocked on the conference room door and entered. Walking up to Victor Gael, he reported in a low voice, "Sir, we've received intel. Last night's bomb was manufactured by a group in the Saint-Denis neighborhood, where many North African immigrants live."
Victor feigned surprise. "Are you certain?"
"Yes, sir," Youssou nodded firmly. "The information comes from an undercover operative who has been embedded for years. This operative was born in Paris and is of North African descent."
"F***," swore several officials attending the meeting. While the intel was sudden, if it led to the swift resolution of the case, it would be a huge political win. Without much debate, the officials approved a raid, assigning the mission to Youssou's team, which had provided the intel.
Fully armed, Youssou's unit descended on the Saint-Denis neighborhood. With the help of local police, they quickly surrounded a three-story community center where many North African residents gathered.
The ordinary police officers were tasked with containment, while Youssou's unit handled the raid. Trusting the heavily armed special forces, the police complied without question.
Unfortunately for the residents, the center was nothing more than a community space, and its members had no connection to the bombing. But Youssou and his team had no intention of leaving empty-handed.
On the third floor, they opened their backpacks, retrieving a dozen bombs identical to the one used in the previous night's explosion. Over their radios, they reported finding a stockpile of explosives.
The team then executed several residents under the pretense of "neutralizing suspects" and placed pre-staged weapons near their bodies to fabricate evidence of a firefight.
Hearing about the discovery of bombs and gunfire from inside, the officers outside grew anxious, calling for reinforcements and rounding up dozens of community members for questioning.
The operation's outcome was quickly leaked to the media, thanks to Youssou's deliberate efforts. With William secretly fanning the flames, the situation began to spiral out of control.
"Sir," Sunday's voice chimed in, "are you certain you want to use Pushkin's connections?"
"Yes, yes," William said impatiently, waving a hand dismissively. "Pushkin's dead. I killed Robert McCall, the man who killed Pushkin. And since Pushkin came from the criminal underworld, this is the perfect opportunity to divert the French authorities toward the Russians.
These countries are always playing games with each other anyway. As long as they can't prove direct Kremlin involvement, the investigation will stall at Pushkin's name. And as for the rest? Not my problem. Let them clean up their own criminal scum. Their crime rate might even improve after this."
"Understood," Sunday replied. Moments later, she reported, "The $21 million has been discreetly transferred into the accounts of eleven non-white criminal organizations in Paris. I estimate the city will descend into chaos within a day."
Sunday's prediction was spot-on. By that afternoon, unrest had already begun. By evening, Youssou's team started spreading rumors of instability within the banks. That night, crowds began gathering around Paris's major financial institutions, setting the stage for even greater turmoil.
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