"No need, no need to be so polite. We're friends who've been through life and death together; there's no need for such formalities."
Under the intense gaze of Frank Moses, Marvin could feel sweat forming on his forehead.
This bald man standing before him might not look intimidating right now, but he was Frank Moses, after all—a man who had killed countless people and even toppled an entire nation. A true legend among killers.
Marvin had no illusions about his own ability to handle Frank in a fight.
Of course, he didn't think Frank would actually turn on him under the current circumstances. After all, they had been close friends for over 30 years.
Sure enough, as Frank stared at Marvin's tense and guilty expression, memories of countless times they had saved each other's lives came to mind. It had been 31 years since that incident. Frank sighed helplessly. "Is Edward Bailey really dead?"
"God, how would I know?" Marvin let out a big sigh of relief, then replied bitterly, "If I knew, would I have been forced to take those damn medications for nearly twenty years by the CIA? Those bastards didn't suspect you at all but kept secretly drugging me, trying to drive me insane and extract whatever intel they thought I might have."
Frank's expression turned odd. "No wonder you, this bastard, accomplished so much yet climbed the ranks so slowly. Before you disappeared, I thought it was because you had mental problems. Turns out the agency was suspecting you all along." He paused for a moment, then squinted at Marvin. "Can I still trust you?"
"Of course," Marvin replied without hesitation. "The moment I got the intel, I immediately sent you a warning. When you didn't respond, I even risked everything to find you in person. Today, I've saved your life again, haven't I?"
Seeing Frank nod, Marvin smiled in relief and said, "When it comes to Project Dragonthorn and the red mercury nuclear bomb, we're in the same boat. If we don't deal with the mastermind behind this, I won't be able to enjoy my retirement, and you won't be able to live in peace with Sarah, enjoying your couple's life."
Perhaps it was that last sentence that completely dispelled the lingering doubts in Frank's mind.
For someone like him—nearly 60 years old and a retired special agent—what was there left to stress about after all he had been through?
After all, ever since he started working with William and pocketed $5 million of CIA operational funds, Frank had stopped caring about "American interests."
In that light, he wasn't much different from Marvin—maybe even worse.
After all, Marvin had endured 20 years of suspicion, questioning, and suppression, yet chose to fake insanity and go into hiding rather than betray the secrets he held.
Meanwhile, Frank Moses, a legendary CIA operative, had, before retirement, repeatedly sold out the very nation he had bled for during his decades of service—all for money.
Thinking of this, Frank put his arm around Marvin's shoulder. "Get in the car. Let's find a safe place to stay first, then figure out how to get to Paris."
"Got it, Frank," Marvin replied eagerly. He started the car and drove off with Frank and a somewhat bewildered Sarah.
On the other side of things, White Ghost had just boarded his newly purchased private jet, flying from Japan to Virginia.
Ever since he started working with William, White Ghost had entertained the thought of formally pledging allegiance to him, just like Black Ghost Raizo, and becoming an official retainer of the Devonshire family.
But he couldn't wrap his head around why William wouldn't take him in, despite his martial skills being on par with Black Ghost's. He had even learned the secret techniques of Aozuru Fury from Black Ghost. Yet William still wouldn't accept him as an official retainer.
It wasn't until he saw how Black Ghost stayed like a shadow at William's side—never having personal time, a love life, or a luxurious lifestyle—that White Ghost finally understood why.
It was because the life of an ancient shadow guard or ninja was simply not for him. White Ghost knew he couldn't live like that.
So, apart from missions assigned by William, he enjoyed plenty of freedom.
When he received a call from an old acquaintance, CIA agent Jack Horton, and learned that the target Horton wanted to eliminate was Frank Moses, White Ghost didn't hesitate to agree.
"Frank Moses—this must be karma," he muttered.
He thought back to when he was just 16 or 17 years old, starting out in the field. He had spent some time under Frank Moses' command. At the time, he had even considered Frank a mentor, having learned countless skills from him. But during one mission, Frank had betrayed him, leaving him imprisoned in North Korea for several years.
Whenever he thought about this, White Ghost felt a mixture of hatred and gratitude toward Frank. Otherwise, if he truly wanted revenge, he wouldn't have waited all these years to make a move.
As the private jet reached cruising altitude, White Ghost unfastened his seatbelt and accepted a glass of wine handed to him by Cheng Haiyao, a female assassin who had been working with him for the past year.
"I just used the system the boss provided to locate Frank Moses. About half an hour ago, he used an alias from over a decade ago to book a private beach villa in Virginia," Cheng Haiyao reported, glancing at her watch. "We're still 11 hours away from Virginia. Should I arrange for someone to monitor them first?"
"Yeah," White Ghost nodded, though he felt a bit annoyed.
The AI system William had provided them was worlds apart from the capabilities of Sunday. If they had Sunday, they could monitor Frank directly without needing anyone to keep tabs on him.
Cheng Haiyao walked over to a secure, tamper-proof laptop and began working on it.
As White Ghost followed her with his glass of wine, he reminded her, "Frank Moses isn't an easy target. Make sure to pick someone reliable."
"Got it," Cheng Haiyao nodded. Soon, the AI had retrieved profiles of the top three surveillance experts in Virginia's underground world.
"Wow, this thing is amazing," Cheng Haiyao exclaimed, downing a large gulp of champagne as she scanned the screen.
"Amateur," White Ghost scoffed. To him, if they had Sunday, they wouldn't have to manually search or make calls like this. Everything would be automated.
Watching Cheng Haiyao pull out her phone to make the necessary calls, White Ghost lost interest and reclined on the plane's sofa to rest.
Meanwhile, Frank and Marvin, having booked a room, were preparing to sneak into Paris. However, they soon discovered they had been declared wanted fugitives by the US government. The charges? Nuclear terrorism.
Faced with such accusations, they dared not reach out to any of their old contacts.
Out of options, they called William again for help. Three hours later, while waiting on a deserted beach, they saw a drone—no larger than a book—fly over from a secret base in Yellowstone National Park. It dropped a small box from about two meters above their heads.
Picking up the box and opening it, they found two phones and a set of miniature earpieces. After turning them on and putting on the earpieces, Frank asked Sunday, "Can you track White Ghost's current location for me?"
"Of course, Mr. Moses. White Ghost is currently en route to Virginia and is expected to arrive at Craddock Private Airport in approximately 7 hours."
Seeing the private jet displayed on the phone screen, Marvin exclaimed, "Are assassins these days really that rich? They can even afford private jets?"
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Fairy Tail: Igneel's Eldest Son (Chapter 256)
I Am Thalos, Odin's Older Brother (Chapter 336)
Reborn in America's Anti-Terror Unit (Chapter 542)
Solomon in Marvel (Chapter 924)
Becoming the Wealthiest Tycoon on the Planet (Chapter 1284)
Surgical Fruit in the American Comics Universe (Chapter 1289)
American Detective: From TV Rookie to Seasoned Cop (Chapter 1316)
American TV Writer (Chapter 1402)
I Am Hades, The Supreme GOD of the Underworld! (Chapter 570)
Reborn as Humanity's Emperor Across the Multiverse (Chapter 660)
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