Chapter 216: God's Eye
"Hey, can you believe it? I already bought my swim trunks, and now he's saying we don't need to go. I've never been to Abu Dhabi in my life," Roman complained, keeping his voice low so Ron wouldn't hear.
"He said someone would help him get his stuff back," O'Connor said, adjusting his weapon without looking up.
"Almost all his people are here, except for those two still laid up in the hospital. We can't really count on those two old-timers, can we?" Roman crouched in front of O'Connor and pointed at another sofa.
There, the Johnsons, one on each side, were watching cartoons with Carl between them. If it weren't for Carl's bored expression, they looked like a happy family.
After all, Carl preferred watching gory horror films based on true events like "The Texas Chain Saw Massacre" to mindless cartoons. Unfortunately, the couple vetoed this suggestion.
Ron figured they had already assumed parental roles with Carl.
Giselle sat on the other side of the sofa, while Ron lay with his head on her lap, eyes closed. Nobody knew if he was asleep or not, but Roman only dared whisper softly.
"Knock, knock, knock!" There was a rap on the door. Tej was about to answer when Ron suddenly jumped up from the sofa. "Let me get that. He's a very cautious guy. If anyone else opened the door, he'd get the wrong idea."
Ron opened the door. Outside stood a plain-looking, short man who looked like he could be managing a deli in Brooklyn. Roman was puzzled. Was this a delivery guy?
He didn't believe such an ordinary-looking man could have retrieved something so heavily guarded. But Ron enthusiastically embraced him. "Hey, Murphy, long time no see."
The man outside seemed overwhelmed by Ron's enthusiasm and quickly stuffed a small package into his arms.
"Here, what you asked for. Now we're even."
With that, he tried to leave quickly. Ron attempted to stop him. "Hey, aren't you really considering coming to work for me in the States? I can offer you good money—fifty thousand a month."
"Hey, is that guy nuts? He's offering that much just to hire some random guy? I could take ten of him myself with that build," Roman muttered in O'Connor's ear, his voice loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, including Murphy at the door.
Ron was about to explode when Murphy held him back, just turning around to glare at Roman. "You think you could take ten of me with that pretty-boy face?"
If it were back at the furniture warehouse, Ron wouldn't even have confidence in taking him down. It would take at least an entire Navy SEAL team to deal with someone of his caliber.
"No, I don't want anything to do with this kind of work. Really, not at all. If I didn't owe you a favor, I wouldn't even want to get involved in this mess." Murphy shook his head. "I prefer a quiet life. My daughter's at college in Boston, and I run a small security consulting firm not far from here. You're welcome to stop by anytime. With that, I'm leaving now. I've got the next flight back to Boston."
"Here, what you asked for. Now let's see where he is." After Murphy left, Ron pushed open the bedroom door. Inside was a spacious electronics room filled with sophisticated equipment. Anonymous and his team had been waiting for them. Indeed, Ron and the others were in one of Anonymous's secret overseas facilities.
"Okay, all this trouble for such a small thing." Anonymous took the chip and examined it. "With all due respect, Ron, you've done truly remarkable work. I mean you and all your friends."
"I've got my people in position now. Everything is at your disposal." Anonymous pushed the chip back into Ron's hands.
"Ramsey," Ron called as the female hacker stepped forward and he returned the chip to its rightful owner. "Fire this up and help me find that bastard Deckard."
Ramsey expertly connected the chip to a computer and began working in front of a collection of electronic devices Ron didn't recognize. Nine monitors connected to these devices simultaneously displayed different regions of the world map.
"I'm hacking into the Etihad Towers' security network. That's where we last saw Shaw, so we need to start there."
Deckard Shaw had also followed Ron and the others to Abu Dhabi. He had no idea what Ron was doing there, so he could only shadow Ron's movements.
So Ron had come up with a clever plan and asked Murphy, someone Shaw had never encountered, to help him retrieve the item.
"Wait, what do those numbers mean?" O'Connor asked curiously.
"It's using biometric mapping algorithms to identify Shaw's facial features, then searching through every camera and every audio device in this hemisphere..."
The female hacker spoke excitedly, beaming with pride as she discussed the technical aspects, but Ron rolled his eyes in disdain.
Can we stop showing off? Did you really develop this yourself?
"Found him! He's hiding right here!" Ramsey exclaimed with delight. The screen showed footage of Shaw driving into a factory from multiple angles.
"An automated manufacturing facility—no personnel around, plenty of places to hide. It's a smart choice, but with this new technology, nothing stays hidden."
Anonymous exclaimed enthusiastically, "Congratulations on revolutionizing surveillance. It might not be long before all of us field agents are obsolete."
"Alright, boys, time to go out and collect the fruits of your labor!"
Anonymous's initial claim of indifference to Shaw's fate was a lie. How could a terrorist with professional military training operating in U.S. sphere of influence not concern him?
He'd only feigned indifference as a bargaining chip in his negotiations with Ron. Seeing that Shaw was finally within reach, Anonymous was naturally thrilled.
But Ron still felt something was off. Finding him this easily? Too convenient.
From Ron's understanding of that cunning operative, such easy-to-follow trails seemed deliberately planted.
Ron quickly reviewed all the surveillance footage Ramsey had found. Shaw was almost completely exposed to cameras during all his movements!
A wanted fugitive who had evaded British authorities for six years but never been caught was only this sloppy? He couldn't even manage basic operational security? Ron was certain something was fishy!
"Wait!" Ron stopped everyone who was about to leave. "Ramsey, can you retrieve any recordings of Deckard Shaw's previous phone calls?"
"How is that possible?" Ramsey shook her afro quickly. "You said from before—who would have been recording him then? I can only monitor current calls and record them in real-time."
"Hey man, what's the problem? Aren't we supposed to just go capture Shaw and give him that ass-kicking?"
Tej asked, puzzled. Everyone's eyes turned to Ron.
"Well, look," Ron pulled up a map of the entire area. "This location is quite isolated. The nearest U.S. military installation couldn't send reinforcements for at least an hour. That means if we get ambushed here, we won't get backup anytime soon."
"So what? He's just one guy anyway. You're not getting scared, are you?" Roman seized the opportunity to mock, but after receiving a glare from Ron, he quickly retreated behind O'Connor.
"Just one guy? Or does he want us to think he's alone?"
"What are you getting at, Ron?" Anonymous's expression hardened. As a professional operative, he understood the gravity without explanation.
"Look at this automated facility. Apart from the access road, it's surrounded by endless desert. Almost nowhere to take cover."
"And he knows damn well we have superior numbers, searching from perimeter to center, layer by layer. Even if the facility layout is complex, it's only a matter of time before he's cornered. Trust me, a smart operative won't put himself in such a compromised position."
"What's more critical is that a contact of mine—someone you and I both know," Ron gestured to Anonymous, "gave me some very interesting intelligence. Recently, someone near Abu Dhabi has been moving large quantities of weapons, equipment and supplies via smuggling operations. I'm guessing it's not because the U.S. military is hiring private contractors."
Ron's sharp gaze swept the room. He was now completely convinced something was definitely wrong with this factory!
"Ramsey, can you pull up any surveillance footage from this facility over the past few days?"
"Give me a minute..." Ramsey sat back at the computer, fingers flying across the keyboard. "Surveillance footage around here is stored for maximum 72 hours. My algorithm can filter the key information. What do you want to see?"
"Show me all personnel and vehicles entering and exiting for the last 72 hours."
"Coming right up... there it is." Ramsey hit confirm. Before anyone else could respond, she exclaimed in shock, "Oh my God! What the hell is this?!"
The algorithm-filtered footage on screen stunned everyone.
Ten vehicles, two armored transports, and numerous armed personnel had infiltrated the automated facility under cover of darkness the previous day.
If they had moved in rashly, the consequences would have been catastrophic.
Anonymous, bewildered by the sudden appearance of so many armed men, asked, "Can someone tell me who these people are?"
"These are the guys who captured me. I remember that face!" Ramsey shouted, pointing at the black commander on screen.
"Okay, next question. When did Deckard Shaw make contact with these terrorist cells?"
"I can answer that right now. Where do you think he's been hiding all these years? The answer is right in front of you."
Ron sighed. "I thought we'd never find him because he was hiding under false identities, maybe working as a stuntman in Hollywood or teaching martial arts in Vegas. Turns out he chose the method that would make him easiest to find. I guess I overestimated him."
"So what do we do now? Should I call for backup from headquarters?" O'Connor asked.
"Impossible. The U.S. military absolutely cannot conduct large-scale operations in this region. That would trigger sensitive international responses. Trust me, you don't want to see World War Three," Anonymous refused without hesitation.
"No need for backup. We can handle this ourselves." Ron stared at the screen and licked his lips excitedly, looking predatory.
Anonymous watched Ron warily. "Don't even think about requisitioning American equipment! If large quantities of standard U.S. military gear appeared during operations, even an idiot would know what was happening."
Ron rolled his eyes. As if people wouldn't figure it out anyway. What other country in the world constantly stirs up trouble on foreign soil?
Of course, he couldn't say that aloud because it wasn't politically correct.
"Well, since the conventional approach won't work, we'll have to use more creative methods." Ron clapped his hands, focusing everyone's attention. "Now everyone go to nearby construction sites and buy steel pipes in bulk. If I recall correctly, the steel pipes at their construction sites are all imported from overseas."
"Wait! Ron, what are you planning?" Anonymous suddenly felt panicked. He had a bad feeling: "This operation has been registered with the Pentagon. I won't let you do anything reckless."
"Don't worry, except for you, no one will know I did anything reckless." Ron smiled mysteriously and turned to Toretto. "I heard you did well in Brazil? Then I think you must still remember the weapons used by 'V'?"
"Of course I remember." O'Connor's eyes lit up.
The others caught on too. You're V, aren't you?
"You're saying..."
"That's right," Ron nodded. "Since standard equipment is off-limits, let's use guerrilla methods to blow that factory to kingdom come!"
"Toretto, Letty, you two modify vehicles. I need five pickup trucks converted with launcher systems. Johnson, you two go buy as many steel pipes and propane tanks as you can, plus fertilizer and diesel fuel."
Ron patted the soldier next to Anonymous. "Excuse me, could you and your team serve as my work crew for a while? I need skilled welders."
"Ron, what are you planning!" Anonymous thought of the ghost from Brazil—the man who had humiliated him and almost single-handedly incited an entire Brazilian resistance movement, dismantling his intelligence network among the criminal organizations.
"Nothing special," Ron said, his lips curling into a beautiful smile. "If the problem can't be solved using conventional military methods, then I think guerrilla warfare is an excellent alternative. What do you think?"
(End of chapter)
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