The two of them hid beside a wooden cabin. Owen reached out and took off his outer diving suit, revealing that underneath they were both wearing white dress shirts with black bow ties, as if ready to attend a party. They retrieved holsters and weapons from their bags, slinging them over their shoulders, and pulled out suit jackets to put on. Now, they looked exactly like two guests arriving at the party, with no flaws detectable.
Harry handed Owen a button-shaped earpiece, simultaneously putting one into his own ear.
"Testing, testing."
"Copy, testing clear," came Simon's response through the earpiece.
"How's the video?"
Owen placed a pair of black-framed glasses on his nose. As he pressed a button, the scene before Owen's eyes immediately appeared on the screen in front of Simon. As Owen shifted his gaze left and right, the image on the screen moved accordingly. Honestly, this was the charm of being a secret agent—there were always these marvelous little gadgets.
"No problem, clear vision," Simon said again.
"Hopefully, we won't need to use it."
While they were testing the equipment, Harry had already found a hidden spot to plant the bombs he carried. He made the sign of the cross on his chest, then cautiously peeked out to observe the patrolling guards, and said in a low voice, "Alright, we're ready."
"Hold on, wait for my command..." One kilometer away, Simon stood atop a car, holding binoculars and observing the situation. "In three seconds, you'll enter the patrol's blind spot... 3... 2... 1... Now!"
At Simon's command, Harry led Owen quickly out from behind the wooden cabin. The patrolling guards on both sides just happened to turn their backs at that moment. The two men walked nonchalantly toward the back kitchen entrance.
On the screen in front of Simon, Harry was leading with Owen following closely behind. They walked confidently through the back door into the bustling kitchen, where a dozen chefs were busily preparing various ingredients.
The two of them maintained natural expressions as they passed through the kitchen and entered the banquet hall. Then Harry spotted someone who appeared to be the head chef approaching from the kitchen side—unlike the other chefs, this man wore a red neckerchief.
Harry noticed the confused look on the head chef's face. Before the chef could ask any questions, Harry abruptly turned and scolded Owen, "What did I tell you? This party's guests are from all over Europe. Our food must satisfy everyone. Look at what you've prepared—what is this supposed to be..."
Owen followed behind Harry, looking suitably chastened and timid. Then Harry seemed to notice the approaching head chef and pointed at him, barking, "And you, come with me, both of you!"
The head chef had been suspicious about why they were coming out of the kitchen, but Harry's commanding tone momentarily stunned him. Uncertain of Harry's identity, the chef obediently followed.
Harry led the two men through the front door. The head chef gave Owen a questioning look; Owen shook his head to indicate his own innocence. Harry pointed to a pile of food on a nearby table and said, "Look at what you've prepared. Is this food fit for people? Replace it immediately! I told you, ingredients must be fresh. And you—what's with those curtains? Did I hire you to embarrass me? Still standing there? Want me to do it myself?"
Owen hurriedly agreed and jogged off. The head chef, overwhelmed by Harry's commanding presence, had already forgotten his earlier doubts and rushed to instruct his staff to replace the food. Harry, meanwhile, strolled nonchalantly into the hall.
Having successfully entered the party, Owen's job became much simpler. Simon's assigned task was not complicated: Owen merely needed to find a vantage point to oversee the entire scene, leaving the action to Harry.
The villa was built in a typical European style, with a large hall on the ground floor and curved staircases on either side leading to the second floor. The walls were adorned with oil paintings and sculptures. Owen didn't know much about art, but given the host's status, they were probably all famous pieces.
Owen now stood halfway up the staircase to the second floor, holding a glass of wine, pretending to admire the paintings while actually providing Simon with visual surveillance.
Harry, on the other hand, moved through the hall like an experienced socialite, carrying a glass of wine and mingling. To appear natural, he occasionally chatted with guests, calling them by name and greeting them warmly—leaving many bewildered but forced to respond politely.
Of course, Harry couldn't possibly know all these people. This was all thanks to the team's coordination. Harry remained within Owen's line of sight, and every person near him had their image transmitted back to the surveillance van via Owen's glasses. Simon would identify them through image recognition and relay their names through the earpiece, making Harry's greetings seem effortless but actually the product of complex data exchange.
"Observe at two o'clock."
Owen, acting like a human surveillance camera, turned wherever Simon instructed. Simon continued feeding information to assist Harry.
"Clay is at six o'clock, looking toward your position. Don't move too much; don't draw his attention."
Simon's voice came again through the earpiece. Clay was the host of the party, and theoretically, he knew all the guests personally. Harry's act wouldn't work on him; they had to avoid him.
"Alright, now he's turned his back. You can pass."
Following Simon's instructions, Harry casually walked past behind Clay.
"Good, cross the hall, straight ahead, take the staircase on the west side."
Simon spoke while watching the screen and consulting the villa's floor plan. So far, the operation had gone smoothly. Harry had managed to slip upstairs unnoticed and was now out of Owen's sight.
Owen's role now shifted from support to early warning. He had to keep a close eye on the guards' reactions from now on—if anything unexpected happened, it would surely show on their faces.
Harry, moving quickly, identified his direction upstairs. He opened a door to a room but was met by a woman's startled scream. Apologizing profusely, he closed the door and moved a few steps away to open another room. Fortunately, no amorous couples were inside this time.
Once the door was closed, Harry immediately broke into a run toward the balcony. He opened the balcony door, leaned out to look up and down. A guard was patrolling below, so Harry remained still.
Although the area above was typically a blind spot—few would think to look up—dislodging snow or ice would be a dead giveaway. Harry patiently waited until the guard passed out of sight before springing onto the windowsill and climbing up the drainpipe.
Harry climbed quickly. Though there were patrolling guards not far below, no one even thought to glance upward. The feeling was quite exhilarating.
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