Chapter 228: Dirty British Gentlemen
Late at night in Liverpool, England, the winter wind cut through the air like a knife.
Thanks to strict union labor protections, the port was deserted except for a few night security guards who, because of the freezing cold, had ended their rounds early and retreated to the heated security office.
Ron and Detective Grant walked in unchallenged.
"Ron, why did you bring me here? Don't you already know who killed my daughter? Why won't you take me to get revenge? Are you in cahoots with these British bureaucrats?" Grant demanded.
His suspicions weren't unreasonable; Ron's behavior had been genuinely suspicious. As soon as Grant picked up Ron at Heathrow, they were surrounded by a group of black-suited men from British intelligence. Their leader specifically requested a private meeting with Ron and forbade Grant from accompanying him.
Ron spoke with the leader for approximately three hours before being released. However, he'd been acting strangely ever since.
He claimed to have complete intelligence on the terrorists, but offered no explanation. Instead, he went to the hotel and slept until three hours ago. Then he called Grant and dragged him out here to enjoy the freezing harbor breeze in the dead of night.
"No, I'm not in league with that scheming control freak," Ron said, curling his lips. "We just reached a mutually beneficial agreement. But don't worry, this agreement won't hinder your revenge; it'll actually provide us with significant assistance."
"Assistance? Who are they?" Grant automatically ignored the unfamiliar insult. He was getting older and wasn't familiar with modern slang. "Mycroft Holmes. If you follow the news regularly, you'll know he's a high-ranking intelligence officer. Pretty well-known guy."
"But what does he have to do with what we're planning?" Grant stared at Ron seriously, waiting for a concrete answer.
"Grant, I understand how desperate you are to avenge your daughter. I have family too. If they were hurt, I'd be even more frantic than you. But you need to understand something."
Ron, standing at the loading dock, suddenly turned around. "This terrorist attack isn't just a personal vendetta like in some action movie. It's become a political event. Many people are watching this and trying to get involved through various channels to achieve their own goals. You understand?"
Grant looked confused. He was a former Marine and current detective, and he'd always been tone-deaf when it came to politics.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have chosen to stay in that war-torn country after being wounded in Afghanistan, only to face persecution when the situation deteriorated, leading to his transfer back to London where he eventually lost touch with his military contacts.
"Alright, I'll make an exception and explain it in detail, but everything I tell you stays between us. Understood?" Ron sighed, finally speaking with reluctance.
Grant nodded firmly.
"First, the perpetrators of the terrorist attack were directed by the IRA."
"IRA?" Grant was both familiar with and unfamiliar with this abbreviation. Familiar because he often saw it on TV, but unfamiliar because he never paid attention to news beyond sports scores and crime reports.
"The IRA, or Irish Republican Army, is a terrorist organization that seeks Irish independence through violence. Although the British government claims the organization disarmed and disbanded in 2005, in reality, they simply negotiated political concessions, such as granting greater autonomy to regions of Ireland outside Northern Ireland. The former IRA leaders, through peace treaties, transformed themselves into politicians in Ireland and the UK."
"That's right. Liam Hennessy, the man you've been trying to get information about, is a former member of this organization. Although he claims he has no current ties to the group, he secretly maintains significant influence over it. Now, do you understand why your requests keep getting stonewalled, Grant?"
Grant felt his head spinning. He'd assumed it was just a simple case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time during a terrorist attack, but he hadn't expected it to be so complex.
"So Liam Hennessy orchestrated the attack, right?"
"No, it was a splinter faction within his Irish organization. The younger members didn't want to continue living under British rule, but they also wanted to seize power from the old guard, so they staged this incident to send a message to both sides." Ron curled his lips in disgust. "In the end, they're just a bunch of angry kids. My roommate Sheldon, who just ran away from home, is more mature than them. It's just that by wrapping it in political rhetoric, they've given themselves an excuse to harm innocent people."
"What bastards!" Grant cursed.
Ron shrugged: "Yeah, they're complete bastards, even the British government thinks so. That's why they considered using external forces to knock these bastards down a peg."
"Originally, they spotted your information from the victim's family database. They knew you'd never give up, so they planned to secretly provide you with some assistance and teach those bastards a lesson. But now that I'm here, those scheming British gentlemen have new ideas."
"What do they want?" Grant asked anxiously. "As long as I can avenge my daughter, I'll do anything."
"They want to use my resources, and yours, to completely eliminate those bastards."
That's exactly what Mycroft had proposed when he met with Ron. If this outcome could be achieved, he was willing to pay a price that would satisfy Ron, but he still underestimated Ron's position.
"So, did you agree?"
"Of course I did," Ron said, a sly smile playing across his face. "How much I actually accomplish is my business, though. I mean, why would an American like me travel thousands of miles from the US to England just to clean up after those scheming gentlemen?"
Mycroft's offer was certainly tempting, but considering Ron's special status as a federal agent, such behavior could easily be construed as unauthorized foreign operations under political manipulation.
From that point on, Ron would have leverage over Mycroft, but also become a potential asset in Mycroft's hands. But Ron wasn't that naive; he immediately reported the intelligence to Langley through secure channels.
Thus, a new player entered the game.
"Whoo-whoo!" Two low whistles echoed in the darkness, and Ron immediately raised his flashlight and flashed it twice in that direction, responding to the signal.
"Ready for the main event now, Grant?"
(End of Chapter)
If you enjoyed this chapter, leave a Review!
P*atreon/Soulforger (90+ advanced chapters)
Buy me coffee - ko-fi*com/soulforger01