Chapter 400: The Super Villain Makes His Appearance
"Boss, forgive me for interrupting your vacation."
In a Williamsburg restaurant in one of the lowest-end neighborhoods in Los Angeles, Mason, disguised as a black janitor, sat opposite Ron, whose true identity was almost unrecognizable. Ron, too, was somewhat disguised.
So well disguised that even Max, who had just taken his order, hadn't recognized the frail old man she was serving as Ron, the man she'd spent countless passionate nights with.
She even casually teased Caroline as she passed by, "Hey! Caroline, look at that handsome old man, he looks just like Ron. I bet that's what Ron will look like when he's old. Want to take a picture and send it to Ron?"
"Of course~" Caroline swayed past them, casually snapping a photo with her phone and immediately sending it to Ron.
"Ding-dong~" Ron picked up his phone; it showed the photo Caroline had just secretly taken of him, along with the caption: "How about it? Doesn't he look like you?"
Ron casually replied to the message, then looked up. "It's okay. If anyone should apologize, it's me for making you spend almost the entire Christmas undercover."
Ron's treasure hunt had been going exceptionally well. Jack had not only helped him find two more artifacts on the shipwreck, but also used a metal detector to find the gold Ron had been longing for—a full nine tons!
Even after splitting it with Jack, there would still be a considerable amount of gold left after paying for the artifacts. In other words, this trip not only didn't lose money, but actually made a fortune. However, just as he was planning to enjoy some more time with his two newly acquainted female companions, he received a message from Mason.
There had been new developments at Fort Detrick, and Ron had to return early.
"It's okay, the Christmas turkey at Fort Detrick was pretty good, at least much better than the nursing home I used to live in. It just lacked sexy nurses, you know, all nursing homes use old-fashioned TVs, and when the nurses change the channel, they bend over, showing off their sexy hips. Boss, do you want to know which nursing home in California has the hottest nurses?"
It has to be said, Mason is really young at heart. Ron doesn't even know if he can maintain Joe Mason's optimistic attitude when he gets old.
But that's not the point of today's meeting.
"OK, I'll definitely come to you for advice before I go to a nursing home, but before that, you have to tell me what you saw there? Why are you in such a hurry to meet me?" Ron whispered.
"I saw this." Mason lifted his shirt, took a photo from his pocket, and stuffed it into Ron's hand. Ron glanced at it and quickly crumpled it into a ball in his hand.
Even though it was just a glance, it was enough.
It was a photograph of a wall inside the base. Anyone with even a slight understanding of the world would recognize the emblem on the wall: a triangle made of a compass and a ruler, with a cold eye in the center, seemingly watching over everything.
"The Freemasons?!" Ron exclaimed in surprise. "So that place has always been Freemason territory? I really don't understand why the Freemasons would have thoughts of destroying the world. Aren't those damned elitists just after making money?"
"I think you might have misunderstood something, Boss," Mason said, clearly knowing more about the Freemasons than Ron. Seeing Ron gesture to continue, he continued:
"Boss, although the Freemasons have absolute power all over the world, except for certain resistant nations, they are not monolithic. In fact, there are serious disagreements between the Freemasons in Europe and the United States on some issues.
In most cases, they are divided into different factions based on their respective interests, such as the financial faction on Wall Street, the oil faction led by the Rockefeller family, and so on. They each control departments and corresponding politicians that serve their own interests.
This group of troublemakers is one of them, only the most radical one. The Skull and Bones group at Yale University is one of their activists. I have had contact with some of their people before, and I didn't expect it to be them again this time."
After being pointed out by Mason, Ron also came to his senses. He was now beginning to understand why Mycroft had acted so strangely in London. Obviously, he was also a member of the moderate faction, but he had to pretend to know nothing about what was happening in front of him in order to win votes from the radical faction.
Ron pressed on, "You sound like you know them?"
"Of course," Mason unfolded the photo from Ron's hand, pointing to the eye in the center. "Look here, this isn't an ordinary eye, it's a cobra pattern. Boss, the people stationed at Fort Detrick aren't regular US troops, they're Cobra!"
"Cobra? That name sounds familiar."
"They belong to Eteon's army. The people you clashed with recently were their men, Boss. Although Eteon is just one of many Freemason factions, their power is unimaginable." Mason sounded somewhat helpless as he said this.
"The ones planning the terrorist attacks using the Snowflake Virus are Eteon's people. They want to create a new evolution for humanity, so they want to kill half the population of the earth!
Bobby, the drug lord who mixed the virus into drugs and planned to control the government, is Eteon's person. She has been providing funding for Eteon!
Valentine, who controls about half of the world's communication services and planned to blow everyone's heads up with cell phone chips, is also Eteon's person. He is Eteon's former research and development president!
Cipher, who used Deckard Shaw and Owen Shaw to fight for the Sky Eye system and then used Torretto to steal the nuclear submarine, is also one of them. She is Eteon's special operations officer!
Even in the highest levels of government, they are everywhere!"
"No, that's not what I meant," Ron thought for a moment, then a look of sudden realization crossed his face. "I just remembered, it doesn't seem like this is the first time I've heard this name. A few years ago, my brother-in-law mentioned it to me.
He and his comrades were attacked by a group of soldiers wearing Cobra insignia in Afghanistan. If reinforcements hadn't arrived in time, they would have been wiped out. It seems we're old enemies."
Ron spoke casually, but he wasn't at all relaxed. According to official information about Fort Detrick, it was still listed as part of the US military. If Cobra was everywhere there, it only meant one thing: even the US military had been infiltrated like a sieve.
Coupled with what Mason had just mentioned, Eteon was a more powerful opponent than Ron had expected.
"Boss, if I may be so bold, if you're planning to take action against them, you must act quickly," Mason said worriedly.
"Why? What did you find in that base? Are they hiding a Snowflake virus there?" Ron's heart skipped a beat.
"Yes and no. According to the information, it should be a failed version of the Snowflake Virus, a kind of pneumonia virus."
Yes! That's it! Ron is sure that it will cause a major global crisis in the future. As long as he destroys it, Ron can accomplish the feat of saving the world, although strictly speaking, he has already accomplished this feat several times.
"But that's not why I'm suggesting you act quickly. Actually, at the same time that the US military was being rotated by Cobra, a new group of scientists moved into the base. They're working on a new weapon called nanobots…"
As Mason spoke, Ron's brows furrowed more and more. By the time Mason finished speaking, his brows looked just like those of a real old man, even without makeup.
"Well, it seems our opponent is really too powerful. Maybe we should form a new organization to deal with it. Let's call it the Special Forces for now. Fortunately, we have enough funding, so money isn't a problem for now. But I need volunteers to join this plan. I don't want to force anyone on this.
Mason, are you willing to continue fighting this behemoth with me and save the world together?"
Ron extended his hand to Mason, looking at him sincerely. Mason grasped Ron's hand without hesitation: "As you wish, Boss. If it's for saving the world, I think I can postpone my retirement for a few more years."
After saying that, the two smiled at each other and got up to leave together. Neither of them touched the food on their plates, but they left an extra-large tip under the plates.
"Caroline! Look at this?!" Max excitedly showed Caroline the money.
"OMG! It's a hundred-dollar bill! My goodness, how long has it been since I've seen such a large denomination bill? If it weren't in your hand, I would have almost forgotten I even had a hundred-dollar bill." Caroline snatched the money from Max, rubbing it against her face with delight.
"Who are those two old men? Rich guys experiencing life in the slums? Max, next time they come, can they sit in my section? I haven't had my nails done in ages."
"Don't even think about it."
In Sheldon's apartment in Pasadena, the four scientists were all present, sitting upright on the sofa, each staring nervously at the computer screen, not daring to blink.
Sheldon raised a hand and began to count down: "60 seconds left."
"Finally, the crucial moment has arrived! I'm so nervous my stomach acid is about to rise!" Leonard was so excited he could hardly breathe, quickly grabbing his asthma medication and taking a deep breath.
"Don't mess things up now, Leonard, or I'll slap your glasses off!"
Ron walked back, planning how to build this new organization. As he had told Mason, his special operations team always had ample funding. Adding a new organization to the existing personnel structure cost almost nothing, but the biggest expense was the research and development budget.
He'd dealt with Eteon many times before; the other side had a plethora of advanced technologies, while Ron's only reliable equipment was powered armor. Even his drones had been largely copied by emerging companies, leaving him with virtually no technological advantage.
Therefore, to counter Eteon, he needed to increase his research and development budget. But could he afford such an investment with revenue solely from tax rebates? Ron wondered.
He walked along, pushed open the door, and just then heard Sheldon's countdown: "What are you guys doing? Launching a satellite? Why don't you handle this at NASA?"
"We're trying to snag tickets for the San Diego Comic-Con, you know? These tickets are incredibly hard to get; almost every geek in the world goes. They sell out instantly, but if just one of us gets on the server, everyone gets to..."
Leonard stammered, taking another deep drag of his asthma medication.
"My God, this isn't the time to explain! Focus! Leonard!" Sheldon glared at Leonard, annoyed.
"San Diego Comic-Con? That sounds interesting, but I've always been held up by something. Book me an extra ticket later, I'll go with you guys." Ron grabbed a Coke from the fridge and sat down next to him.
The new organization's situation wouldn't be resolved anytime soon, so it was better to relax with everyone first.
Sheldon announced again: "Thirty seconds left."
"OMG! I need to pee!" Rajesh exclaimed nervously.
Sheldon scoffed, "I make you wear diapers every year, but you never do."
"I told you, I'll get a rash!"
"15 seconds left!" Howard took over Sheldon's countdown: "5, 4, 3, 2, 1, sales start!"
Howard's countdown ended, and the four of them pressed the refresh button simultaneously, over and over, hoping to get onto the ticket page. The tense atmosphere instantly reminded Ron of Black Friday online shopping rushes—it was strikingly similar.
"How's it going? Did anyone get a ticket?" Ron asked curiously.
"No."
Sheldon had anticipated this situation and quickly instructed, "Remember to keep pressing F5 to refresh the page, I refresh, I refresh..."
Five minutes later, Leonard finally succeeded: "I refresh, I refresh... Wait! I got in!"
"Yay!" Everyone put down their computers and cheered.
"What's your ticket number?" Ron also walked up behind Leonard.
"15th…211th place," Leonard stared at the screen. "And now only Sunday's tickets are left."
"Tch, Sunday is the worst day, there's hardly anyone there," Sheldon pouted and complained. "Most of the worthwhile interviews are over, and the themed T-shirts are only available in small and XXXXXXL sizes…"
Before Sheldon could finish complaining, Leonard delivered another piece of bad news: "Wait, Sunday's tickets are sold out too."
"No way! I love Sundays!" Sheldon wailed.
"So, all the tickets are sold out?" Ron asked, taking a sip of his cola.
"Yes, I can't believe it, we can't go to the comic convention." Howard slumped dejectedly into the sofa.
"It's okay, there's another comic convention in Anaheim, we can go to that one, excuse me." Sheldon tried to comfort his companions, but halfway through his sentence, he choked up and couldn't speak, running off to the side to cry.
"You guys are so pathetic~" Ron shook his head, downed his cola in one gulp, and stood up. "Who wants to come with me to the comic convention as a Marvel employee?"
(End of Chapter)
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