Chapter 60: The First Kill
William took Ambrosio's hand, and they walked out of the airport. He hailed a taxi, and they checked into the presidential suite of the Hilton Hotel, just two kilometers away.
Two hours later, feeling refreshed, William was drinking a whiskey when his phone rang. It was Barney.
"Boss, we've captured Alexios Demetrios, but his contact got away in the chaos. We exchanged fire with Demetrios's men at the Body Worlds exhibit. We killed two of his people and captured him. Fortunately, no civilians were injured. Boss, should we head to the airport?"
*Damn it, how did they lose him again?* It seemed the team really wasn't suited for this kind of surveillance work. "No," William said, frustrated. "You've likely been exposed. Take Demetrios and go to ground. I'll handle the aftermath. Don't show your faces until you hear from me."
"Understood, boss. We can hide for a few days, but if we wait too long, it'll be impossible to cover up this shooting in downtown Miami," Barney reminded him.
"Don't worry," William said. "I'll handle it."
After hanging up, William immediately got dressed and went to the hotel entrance to hail a taxi. After offering the driver triple the fare, he was back at the airport in less than five minutes.
Inside the terminal, William took out his phone and called Gareth Mallory of the Security Council. As soon as the call connected, Mallory's anxious voice came through. "Have you found the bomber?"
William didn't waste time. "Found him, but the situation is critical. My team lost him. We know he's heading for the Skyfleet plane. I need authorization to open fire at the airport, and I need you to help me handle the aftermath with the Americans."
Gareth Mallory sounded nervous. "Are you sure you can handle it, William? There's no room for error. We have no hard evidence, so Skyfleet is insisting on the test flight today. They're going crazy over their stock price, and we can't persuade them to stop."
Of course, William knew what Skyfleet was thinking. With the market booming, a successful test flight would send their stock price soaring.
He had to clean up this mess himself. "No problem. I'll get it done."
"Okay. As long as you can stop the bomber, everything else is manageable. Just do it, William. Don't screw it up."
"Understood."
After hanging up, William walked through Miami Airport until he found a deserted area. He hopped a wall, quickly knocked out a staff member, changed into the man's uniform, and drove a ground handling vehicle toward the hangar housing the Skyfleet 570 prototype.
Most of the airport's security was concentrated around the Skyfleet hangar, leaving other areas less guarded. He quietly climbed onto the roof of a nearby building, took the AWP from his storage space, and assembled it. Lying prone on the roof, he waited. He could only hope that the bomber couldn't get through Skyfleet's security and would have to force his way in.
Sure enough, after ten minutes, William saw a ground refueling tanker speeding in their direction. It seemed Demetrios's connections weren't strong enough to get someone inside Skyfleet, so they had resorted to a brute-force approach.
William adjusted his position, looked through the AWP's scope, took a deep breath, calculated the wind speed and distance, and with a soft *thwip*, fired a shot into the tanker's front tire.
Thanks to the silencer and his position on the high roof, the shot went unnoticed. Seeing that the tanker didn't even slow down, William was certain he had the right target. A normal airport employee would have stopped to check a burst tire, not continued driving recklessly.
William worked the bolt, loaded another round, aimed, and fired again, this time at one of the rear tires.
The AWP's power was immense. The two shots blew the tires to shreds. The tanker instantly overturned, sliding for more than ten meters before coming to a stop.
William kept the wreck in his sights. After ten seconds, a man with a bloody face crawled out of the cab. He stood up, shook his head, and looked around blankly, unable to spot the sniper.
The man was a true fanatic. Ignoring the sniper threat, he walked to the back of the truck, unhooked a small bomb, and began to stagger toward the Skyfleet hangar.
William saw it all through his scope. He gritted his teeth and cursed, "Damn it. You want to die? I'll grant your wish." He tracked the running mercenary, pulled the bolt, and put his finger on the trigger. With another soft *swoosh*, William saw a bloody hole appear in the man's chest. He went down, groaning.
As he lay dying, the man trembled and reached for the mobile phone in his pocket. William understood instantly: he was going to detonate the bomb. If the bomb ignited the fuel from the tanker, the Skyfleet prototype would never fly today.
*Damn it!* William cursed internally. His right hand moved with fluid precision, working the bolt and firing another shot at the bomber's arm. A second later, the bomber's arm went limp, and he lay still.
William remained on the roof, his breathing steady, allowing his heart rate to return to normal. Killing someone wasn't as uncomfortable or disgusting as he had imagined. His mind went numb for a few seconds, then cleared.
It was as if his mind had already processed countless images and techniques for this very act, allowing him to adapt quickly. Maybe he was a natural killer. He felt none of the revulsion or nausea shown in movies and novels.
When airport security finally swarmed the Skyfleet hangar, William saw that there were no other immediate threats. He disassembled the AWP, returned it to his storage space, and quietly climbed down from the roof. Using his mental senses to scan the area, he slipped away in the chaos.
Once clear of the airport, William called Gareth Mallory again.
After the call connected, William reported, "Mission accomplished. The mercenary who intended to bomb the plane has been killed. The middleman, Alexios Demetrios, has been captured alive. But I need you to negotiate with the Americans. The people involved in the shooting at the Body Worlds exhibit in Miami were our operatives, and it was done to arrest Demetrios."
On the other end of the line, the Chairman of the Security Council sounded immensely relieved. "Okay, no problem, William. I'll handle the follow-up. You did well. A job well done. We finally have him. This time, Le Chiffre won't get away with it. The people shorting Skyfleet's stock must be his clients. Haha, that vulture of an underground banker is finally getting his comeuppance."
This wasn't just about England's interests; it was about the stability of the stock market. William would not allow anyone to disrupt his plan to short the index in March.
The money from his game sale had just arrived, and he hadn't even had time to prepare his positions in the futures market. For anyone who stood in the way of his profits, William would show no mercy.
William hung up, changed back into his own clothes, and took a taxi back to the Hilton. He stopped at a pharmacy outside the hotel to buy some painkillers and anti-inflammatory drugs, then returned to his room with a fruit pizza.
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