Chapter 212: The Days When Ron Was Away
Of course, Ron couldn't have taken only three items. In fact, he put all the American colonial artifacts he saw in the underground treasure into his storage space.
Then he picked up three items from the precious treasures on the ground and took them out. These were the rewards promised to him by the Freemasons.
And the colonial artifacts that Ron brought out were soon sent to various American museums by Orlov through legitimate channels and donated anonymously to preserve the nation's heritage.
However, just as Ron was driving and thought he could finally go back to Los Angeles to relax for a while, like a government employee coasting on taxpayer dollars, another unexpected call came in. Ron looked at the number, and it was another person he couldn't refuse.
"Let me guess, Mycroft. Sherlock must have gotten you into some trouble again, hasn't he?" Ron said with a hint of gloating. "Has he finally been tempted to commit the perfect crime?"
"Sherlock might have had that thought, but I'm sure it's not now. At least not before Moriarty is caught. I want to tell you something else. Have you been watching the news lately? Anything about London?"
"I don't know. Let me check. You know, as an American, I only like to focus on domestic affairs. Instead of asking me to check the news, why don't you just tell me? What happened in London?" Ron connected his phone to the car and continued driving, casually speaking.
"The hospital where Owen Shaw is hospitalized was attacked by terrorists last week. It was his brother, Deckard Shaw, who did it. Nearly 50 people were killed or injured. Before he left, he threatened the doctors to take good care of his brother."
Although Mycroft tried to sound calm, Ron could still hear a hint of anger in his voice. Given the inherent rivalry between Britain and the United States, Ron smiled unkindly.
"Congratulations, you're in trouble. Deckard's a ruthless man. If you don't use your MI6 resources, it'll be difficult for you to catch him. Do you need my help? Considering our friendship, I can give you a 15% discount."
"No, I'm not asking for your help." Mycroft's tone remained calm, which made Ron feel a little uneasy.
Wasn't that a hint of gloating in his tone just now?
"I'm just calling to inform you. According to our intelligence, he should have smuggled into the United States by now. Congratulations, this trouble is now yours. I guess he's going after you."
Mycroft's tone was indescribably light-hearted. "You know I have authority over some high-level intelligence agencies, so given our long-standing friendship, I'm asking you, do you need any help? I can give you a 15% discount."
Meanwhile, at the FBI headquarters in Los Angeles, the woman who had submitted her resignation, Toretto's ex-girlfriend, had just been escorted out.
Returning to the office, Hobbs discovered an uninvited guest brazenly browsing confidential information on his computer.
Hobbs habitually reached for his waist, intending to pull out his M500 revolver, the same model as Ron's, to give the uninvited visitor a good beating, but to his surprise, he found nothing.
His holster was hanging on the coat rack behind the man working on the computer; he had left in such a hurry that he had forgotten to bring it with him.
"Uh..." Hobbs made a small noise, trying to remind the man that he was in his office, but the man immediately gestured to silence him: "Wait a moment."
So what if he didn't have a gun? As long as he wasn't a psychopath like Ron, Hobbs was confident he could handle it.
"You can't be a technician here. Tell me who you are right now, or I'll break your fingers into six pieces and shove them where the sun don't shine."
"Agent Hobbs, right?" The man spoke with a magnetic British accent, and he showed no intention of lifting his butt from Hobbs's office chair.
"That's right. You're not trying to hack into my computer. You're walking into a dangerous situation, pal." Hobbs took two more steps, almost entering melee range. "You're under arrest."
"Listen, I'm here to find the team that injured my brother." The man remained seated in his chair, motionless. But his aura gave Hobbs a sense of menace, a feeling he'd experienced before from Ron, and it wasn't pleasant.
"There wasn't any team. There was only one man who took down your brother, and he's standing right here in front of you." Hobbs brazenly took all the credit, as if that would boost his reputation.
Of course, it could also be a need to protect witnesses.
"What the lady said just now was right. You really can't lie." The man in the shadows pulled a USB drive from the computer. All the information he wanted was already stored there.
"Bang!" Just as Hobbs was about to reach for his holster, the man suddenly kicked over the desk, sending it careening towards him. Hobbs quickly raised his arm to block the blow, only to find that this was playing right into his opponent's hands.
The man stood up, pressed down on the table that had hit Hobbs, and flipped his body in the air. He delivered a beautiful whip kick to Hobbs's head, sending him flying backwards through the glass partition.
The man's face emerged from the shadows. If Ron were here, he would have immediately recognized him.
Deckard Shaw.
But to Hobbs, he looked like he could be Ron's brother, but with a completely different aura.
Deckard Shaw was relentless. After striking, he took advantage of Hobbs's precarious position and delivered a knee strike to his stomach. As he doubled over from the force, Deckard delivered a left hook followed by a right hook, leaving Hobbs momentarily stunned!
Fortunately, Hobbs's muscles were well-developed; they provided excellent protection. Although Hobbs was badly beaten, he wasn't seriously injured.
While Deckard was focused on attacking his head, Hobbs landed an uppercut on his stomach with such force that it sent him careening backwards.
Of course, Deckard was no pushover. He rolled on the ground, quickly jumped up, and, using his momentum, reengaged Hobbs in close combat.
The two exchanged blows, and Hobbs finally seized his opportunity, grabbing Deckard's collar and hoisting him up.
"Ah!" Hobbs cried out like a linebacker, slamming Deckard into his desk like a ragdoll, smashing the glass surface into shards.
"Game over, British boy!" Hobbs exclaimed triumphantly, but before he could finish his words, he felt a sudden chill on his leg, followed by a sharp pain!
Deckard had grasped the broken glass from the ground like a dagger, and, catching Hobbs off guard, he inflicted two deep gashes on his leg. Then, leaping to his feet, he grabbed the overhead light fixture and brought it down on Hobbs's bald head.
Hobbs was knocked to the ground, but he was lying not far from his service pistol.
Using his desk as cover, Hobbs fired a barrage of bullets at Deckard. Meanwhile, the female agent who had been about to leave the office rushed back and, from another angle, opened fire while flanking Deckard.
Just when both of them thought they had him cornered, Deckard pulled out a round device from his jacket, threw it at their feet, then rolled quickly behind a filing cabinet and pulled it over himself for cover.
Damn it! This maniac had a grenade!
"Look out! Elena!" Hobbs yelled, grabbing his female subordinate, "We gotta jump!"
"Boom!" The first sound was the grenade exploding, shattering Hobbs's entire office into smithereens.
"Crash!" The second was the sound of Hobbs slamming down onto the roof of the patrol car below, carrying his female subordinate, leaving a huge, human-shaped dent in the roof.
"Ugh," the female agent groaned in pain, but the pain was far less than she'd expected. She moved her arms and found them working. She looked around and realized Hobbs had cushioned her fall with his own body. "Hobbs, are you okay? Hobbs!"
Hobbs had already been knocked unconscious by the sheer force of their multi-story fall.
...
The next day, Ron saw Hobbs, wrapped in bandages like a mummy, in the hospital.
"Hey, man, I swear, you're dressed the most fashionably I've ever seen since I met you."
Ron came to the bedside, still gloating as he continued to tease, "Seriously, how does it feel to get schooled? I didn't expect your fashion sense to get an upgrade too. I think it was well worth the lesson."
Unexpectedly, before Hobbs could retort, the little girl sitting next to him became unhappy, jumped up from the chair, and kicked Ron hard on the leg.
"My dad wasn't beaten up! He was just ambushed by a bad guy! My dad is the best agent in America!"
"The best agent in America?" Ron scoffed, not even sparing the child. "Your so-called best agent in America is just someone who got beaten up like a mummy, lying in a hospital bed, living off little girls' Jell-O, and watching those cheesy Captain America reruns from the '90s to kill time?"
"Hey, come on, the Captain America on TV looks just like your dad. Same muscular build, but he gets his ass kicked like a rookie,"
Ron said, pointing at the TV. It was playing the earliest version of Captain America from the 1990s, the worst of all the adaptations.
This version of Captain America was clearly just a bodybuilder in a cheap costume, no special effects at all. He was carrying a shield that was obviously made of plastic and throwing it around, but he still got beaten up like a punk by the villain.
Just like Hobbs lying in bed.
"Dad, who is this guy? Why is he so annoying?" The little girl pouted angrily and turned around. "Can I borrow your gun to put a hole in him?"
"I'm Ron. I've beaten your dad up too, you know?"
The little girl shook her head in disbelief.
"Of course not, sweetheart. I told you I wouldn't give you your first gun until you're 16. Let's let this jerk slide today. You can deal with him when you grow up. Go buy Dad a Coke first, okay? Dad needs to talk to this uncle."
Hobbs finished his speech and quickly found an excuse to send the little girl away before Ron could expose him further.
"Hey, I can't believe you've never mentioned me to your daughter before." Ron sat down on the edge of Hobbs's bed with mock disappointment.
"Hey! Get off, that's my leg!" Hobbs yelled in pain, "Aren't you curious about who got me like this?"
"Do I need to guess?" Ron spread his hands, "Who else could it be besides Deckard Shaw? Among the people I know, the only people who can handle you besides me are..."
Ron stretched out both hands in front of him, started counting, and felt that it wasn't enough, so he borrowed Hobbs's good hand to count together, but it still wasn't enough. Just as he was about to take off his shoes, he was stopped by Hobbs.
"Okay, you don't have to count, I know there are many others, alright?" Hobbs was irritated, "Do you know why he came back?"
"Isn't that obvious? What other reason could it be except revenge for his brother?" Ron unceremoniously opened the snacks on Hobbs's bedside table and stuffed them into his mouth, as if he were at home.
"Yeah, that's right. The Brits nearly destroyed half of London trying to catch him..."
"Correction," Ron interrupted quickly. "It's you guys, not us. You're the ones who screwed up. You caught Owen and he made you look like amateurs. And I only needed one day to beat him to the point where he couldn't take care of himself."
"Actually, I got a call from the warden on the way here yesterday. I heard that Owen is still bedridden and has to rely on nurses for everything."
Ron kept talking, and he didn't stop eating snacks. Soon, he cleared the snacks on the table, leaving only a freshly opened Jell-O cup, which Hobbs snatched back.
"Hey, at least leave me one! It's my favorite strawberry flavor!"
"A grown man actually likes strawberry Jell-O, ugh~" Ron grimaced in disgust.
No matter how you look at it, strawberry Jell-O doesn't suit Hobbs's tough-guy image at all, right?
"Listen!" Hobbs finished his Jell-O and regained his serious expression. "Deckard's back this time for revenge, revenge on all of us. You need to tell Toretto and the others to be careful, and your family too! This time, you have to help me capture him!"
"Don't worry, Deckard is different from his brother," Ron stood up and walked around Hobbs's bed, making sure there were no more snacks before continuing slowly.
"He's a guy with principles. He'll only go after those who hurt his brother, which means you, me, and Toretto's crew. Of course, the main target should be you. In fact, this attack is very telling."
"I received intelligence about Deckard sneaking into the United States a month ago, but I waited a long time, and he didn't show up. Then he strikes just after I leave Los Angeles. Seems he's a smart guy who knows how to pick his battles."
Hobbs nodded in agreement, but immediately noticed something was wrong.
"Wait, who are you calling weak?"
(End of chapter)
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