Chapter 309: The Kingsman and the Conspiracy
"Ron, you're at the Caltech donors' appreciation gala right now, aren't you?"
Ron frowned. "Are you spying on me?"
"No, I think you've misunderstood," Mycroft quickly explained. "We're simply monitoring another person of interest, and you happen to be in proximity. If possible, could you assist our operative?
He's at the table to your left and behind you—that British gentleman with the drink."
Ron looked in the direction Mycroft indicated. At the refreshment table, an impeccably dressed British gentleman was raising a glass in Ron's direction. Ron cursed inwardly at his carelessness—he hadn't even noticed such an obvious Kingsman agent.
"What exactly are you trying to accomplish?"
Mycroft didn't directly answer Ron's question. "Please allow me to introduce you to our top operative, the elite senior agent of what you civilians call 'Kingsman,' Harry Hart."
The British gentleman walked toward Ron and extended his hand. "I believe you must be the renowned Mr. Ron Cooper. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Pleasure? How much of a pleasure?"
"Uh...pleasure? In any case, quite a pleasure." Ron's response immediately caught the usually composed gentleman off guard, forcing him to shift to business. "I believe Mr. Holmes has already briefed you on my situation. I require some assistance. I'm certain you've heard about what happened to our organization recently."
Because it was a public venue with many people, Harry also used careful language.
"Of course I know. I heard one of your guys got killed—that's unfortunate," Ron said, accepting a glass of champagne from a passing server. "Thank you."
"Yes," Harry said gravely. "We suspect his death might be connected to someone present here."
"I bet it's Director Nick Fury, right?" Ron glanced at Valentine.
"Nick? Fury? Is that Valentine's real name? Can you explain this intelligence properly? Our analysts haven't found anything on it."
If it weren't for Harry's serious tone, Ron would have thought he was joking.
"Okay, don't you Brits read Marvel comics? I'm talking about a character from the comics," Ron showed Harry a picture of Nick Fury from Marvel on his phone. "Look, this is Nick Fury. What do you think? Doesn't he look exactly like him?"
Harry nodded in realization. "You know what, the resemblance is uncanny!"
"So what exactly did that director do wrong? Did he really betray the Avengers? Is he planning to team up with Thanos?" Ron used a comic book reference. Although Harry Hart didn't understand the joke, he was sharp enough to immediately grasp what Ron meant.
"No, this time he's the primary suspect. A while ago, I tracked down a scientist named Arnold. He was the last target our deceased agent was attempting to rescue, but Arnold came back unharmed, while my colleague was lying on the glacier, sliced in half."
Ron and Harry moved to a corner of the ballroom. Harry pulled up a photo of Dr. Arnold on his phone. "When I went to question him about what happened, not only wouldn't he talk, but his head exploded like a ripe watermelon."
"Jeez, this looks like he took a round from a high-caliber rifle to the skull," Ron said, pushing the phone away in disgust. "That's really inconsiderate of you. Summer's almost here, and now you've ruined watermelons for me. What am I supposed to do?"
"Sir, please note we're discussing something extremely serious," Harry frowned. "Look, this is the footage from just before he died. I initially assumed, like you, that he'd been shot from distance by some weapon, but actually, it was something implanted in his neck that caused the explosion. Here, beneath this scar."
Ron finally showed interest. "That's fascinating. Someone implanted a bomb in his neck? I assume it must have received a command signal before detonating. Have you attempted to trace that signal?"
"Of course. The IP address we traced is registered to Valentine Corporation, which is why it's now our primary focus."
"Just an IP address? Isn't that a bit flimsy?" Ron smirked, slightly uncomfortable interacting with someone as formal as Harry. "You know, even amateur hackers mask or spoof their IPs when launching cyberattacks.
And their targets are usually the registered IPs of major corporations. As far as I know, Valentine's company has tens of thousands of employees. It's perfectly feasible to compromise one employee's computer and issue commands through their IP."
"Correct, we initially thought so as well, but then we noticed this. I think you should recognize this person, because you just saw them."
Harry pulled up another photo—none other than the attractive assistant who'd been standing next to Valentine, the one Ron had sensed danger from earlier. "Look, she has the same scar on the back of her neck. If I'm not mistaken, she should have the same chip implanted as Dr. Arnold. As soon as she receives a command, her lovely head will explode into a crimson firework."
Harry made a rare attempt at dark humor to match Ron's tone, but Ron didn't appreciate it.
"Are you attempting a joke, sir? Trust me, it's not funny. Your sense of humor is just as awful as my brother Sheldon's."
Ron took the phone, examined the photo carefully, and compared it with Professor Arnold's photo from earlier. His conclusion matched Harry's exactly:
These two people were definitely connected.
Ron cursed internally. Before attending the gala, Hobbs had invited him to investigate the mountain incident, which he'd already declined.
But even after refusing Hobbs, he was still getting entangled with the same case through someone else at the gala.
It was as if he were the protagonist of some action thriller, with all the major incidents always orbiting around him.
Fortunately, after experiencing so many situations, Ron was already accustomed to it.
"Alright, what do you need me to do? But whatever you propose, I need to make something clear upfront: I'm not affiliated with your organization, and I've already repaid most of the favors I owed. So before you make any requests, you'd better consider whether I'll actually comply."
(End of Chapter)
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