Chapter 21: Security Committee Gareth Mallory
He had easily subdued the ace agent Bond and neutralized three armed elite agents. His amazing skill with improvised throwing weapons and the whip-like rope he'd used to snatch the gun spoke of someone with extensive firearms experience, far more than could be acquired in just a few years of casual practice.
M grew more and more annoyed. She, the head of the Military Intelligence Bureau, had been thoroughly fooled by a nineteen-year-old boy. And it had been going on for nearly a decade, from the time William was ten until now.
That old fox Henry must have passed on all the specialized knowledge he knew, and all he could find, to William.
It was even possible the Devonshire family had been preparing for this for over a century, guarding against gaps in the line of succession by always having a backup plan.
She recalled the secret agreement she'd made with Henry on his deathbed. He had offered to disband his 'W' group in exchange for her promise not to cause trouble for William and Lina.
And when William came of age, she was to inform him of his grandfather's true identity and his inheritance: the special group the Devonshire family had controlled for more than a hundred years.
Now it seemed her momentary leniency had led her straight into Henry's trap. Ten years later, the little boy had grown into a man fully capable of taking control of that power.
Meanwhile, she had wasted her energy chasing an empty list of W group members, paying no attention to the seemingly harmless William.
The more she thought about it, the more she felt deceived. The old man had sworn on his deathbed that his group was disbanded, but M would be a fool to believe that now. The special team was probably never disbanded at all, but had instead been secretly protecting William and his mother.
They had been hiding in plain sight, right under her nose, which was why a decade-long search had yielded no clues.
Only members with such specialized skills could have allowed her agents to search Lina's home and the Devonshire castle in Oxfordshire after Henry's death and find nothing. Only operatives of that caliber could have secretly trained William for years without leaving a single trace.
A child had been putting on a performance for her for ten years. The cowardly, timid, nerdy boy had transformed into a master who could effortlessly defeat four of her best men.
M had been in charge of MI6 for twenty years and had never been so thoroughly humiliated. With fire in her eyes, she demanded of William, "Tell me. Where are the people who taught you these skills?"
Hearing her question, William, who had been wracking his brain for a way out of this, immediately sensed that M wouldn't dare attack him directly. He shrugged. "No one taught me. I found a special training manual when I was sorting through my grandfather's things after he died."
"And, as you probably know, I didn't have many friends growing up. I just practiced by myself when I was bored. I didn't expect to have a knack for it. I just kept practicing, and now, well, here I am."
Though his face was calm and he attributed everything to the deceased Henry, he knew some things didn't require hard evidence, especially when M already had a narrative forming in her mind.
Even if William's story were somehow true, M had no intention of giving up.
"Practicing for fun?" she scoffed. "Do you take us for idiots? If anyone could become as skilled as you just by 'practicing for fun,' what would we need recruitment and training for? What are you hiding? Did Henry tell you all his secrets?"
Bond stepped forward. "Madam, this is against protocol. According to the rules, you cannot interfere in the private affairs of the Devonshire family. Henry was, after all, an Earl."
M glared at Bond. "Henry claimed his team was disbanded, and he's been dead for ten years," she said stiffly. "I have a duty to determine if a team that has been silent for a decade has gone rogue."
"William, you will tell me everything you know about the W team. Now," M commanded, her eyes fixed on him.
A special agent team? This genuinely confused William, though he was careful not to show it. But he knew one thing: even if he did know something, he wouldn't tell her. This was clearly a legacy Henry had left for him, and M wanted it badly.
Pretending to search his memory, he shook his head after a moment. "Sorry. There was nothing in Henry's belongings about a special agent team. The things I found only contained some old secrets of the Devonshire family."
"The old man didn't even leave my mother and me a single pound. If he truly had such great power at his command, would he have let us live in such hardship?"
This startled everyone present. They all knew who Henry was; it was impossible that he'd been penniless.
But if he didn't leave a penny, where did all his assets go?
Thinking she had found a weak point, M pressed her advantage. "Then hand over Henry's belongings. All of them. Don't withhold a single piece of paper."
William shook his head. If there was a secret, he would be the one to find it. Besides, revealing anything now would only put him in more danger. He narrowed his eyes, returning M's stare with a fierce look of his own. "The secrets of the Devonshire family are for the Devonshires alone to know. Besides, I highly doubt there's anyone in this world who couldn't be 'dealt with' if I was willing to offer ten million pounds. Or fifty million."
The implication was clear. At the mention of fifty million pounds, everyone knew William was putting a price on their heads.
And honestly, there were very few people in the world whose lives were worth that much. M herself was certain that for fifty million pounds, someone would be willing to make an attempt on her life.
However, M was not easily frightened. She suddenly smiled at William. "As the head of the British Military Intelligence Agency, I am now ordering you to tell me everything you know and hand over Henry's legacy. Otherwise, I will have you arrested for endangering national security."
Just as William was considering his next move, the door to one of the private café boxes opened and a man walked out.
"I'm sorry, M," the man said, "but you don't have that right."
M turned, surprised. "Gareth Mallory. Why are you here?"
Gareth smiled faintly. "You're here to meet the new head of Group W. As the chairman of the Intelligence and Security Committee, shouldn't I be aware of this? Madam, forgive me for being blunt, but for centuries, the Devonshire family has answered only to the Security Committee, and the Security Committee answers only to the Prime Minister. If you have questions, you may direct them to me."
Ignoring M's stunned expression, Gareth turned to William. "I'm Gareth Mallory. It's a pleasure to meet you, William."
Although William suspected this new arrival was likely cut from the same cloth as M, he wasn't foolish enough to offend two intelligence chiefs at once. He shook the offered hand. "Hello, sir. I'm William Devinshire. A pleasure to meet you as well."
Gareth gave M a casual nod, then smiled at William. "Mr. Devinshire, may I call you William?"
William nodded quickly. "Of course, sir. It would be my honor."
Whether this man was a lifeline or another trap, William knew he had to play along for now. The worst-case scenario was a lawsuit, and he could certainly afford one.
Seeing William's assent, Gareth continued, "Let's go, William. We'll find a place to have a drink, and I can perhaps clear up some of your confusion."
"Alright, sir. Perhaps the hotel restaurant? It's lunchtime, and I hear the grilled cod is excellent."
"Excellent. With a new billionaire treating, how could I refuse? Let's go."
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