"Mom, please stop treating me like a child. In two months, I'll be 20 years old," William said helplessly.
"Twenty? Oh my God, are you already turning 20? Weren't you just 12? I feel like I'm only 30; how can you be 20 already?" Lena said with a strange expression.
Alright, William immediately understood what was happening. It was a midlife crisis. Women approaching 40 tend to wonder how they got to be 40 so quickly.
Quickly changing the subject, he said, "Mom, if you have a preference for the color of your armor, just let Sunday know, and he'll handle it for you. How about going with the same flashy gold I have?"
Lena quickly rejected the idea, "Get out of here. I'd have to be crazy to use flashy gold—it's way too attention-grabbing." She thought for a moment and added, "How about red with a metallic finish?"
Fine, the original color of the Mark 5 armor was just that. William agreed, "I have to say, you have good taste. Sunday, change my armor to red and gold too. That flashy gold you picked is indeed too much. I'm not a Gold Saint."
"Understood, Sir."
With the armor matter settled, Lena, who was focused on her soccer team, lost interest in chatting any further with William. "William, I need to get back to London. The team is at a crucial stage, and I need to keep an eye on things. Also, there are rumors you're planning to exchange land with Duke Nishimura?"
"Yes, that's true. Anthony and his team have nearly finalized the negotiations with the Duke's lawyers. We're just waiting to sign the contract," William nodded.
"My God, is he really going to exchange a plot of land three times the size of our stadium for the land we have here? Is he crazy, or did you offer something else in return?"
"Of course, there are other considerations, but overall, we're getting a good deal. The new stadium will be larger, and the surrounding buildings will be more spacious, so it won't feel cramped."
"That's good to hear. As long as you know what you're doing. By the way, Abigail has nearly finished negotiating for that mansion on Kensington Garden Street. Once you've seen it, you can sign the contract anytime. Also, aren't you going to the Chitu race?"
William thought for a moment. "How about you go for me?"
"Not a chance. The owner is listed as you, not me. If I go, people will laugh at me, especially since Chitu has a good chance of winning. My dear child," Lena said, grabbing William's cheeks in exasperation, "you need to start interacting with high society. Since they can't find you, they're swarming around me, and I'm tired of dealing with them. If you're that reluctant, take Wilson with you."
"Fine, I'll go," William relented. He walked his mother out of the basement and up to the first floor of the castle, where he personally opened the car door for her. Turning to Antonov, he said, "Tomorrow, Sunday will notify you to come back to the castle to pick up a briefcase. From now on, no matter where my mother goes, that case must go with her. Understood?"
Antonov nodded without asking questions. "Understood, Boss."
"Good, be careful on the road," William said, watching as the two cars drove off. He then returned to the basement and asked Sunday, "Any updates on Christmas and Yinyang?"
"Sir, the people you asked me to track down, Christmas and Yinyang, are confirmed to be part of an organ trafficking organization. The couple you saw at the cruise terminal—Hong Wenbiao and his wife—the man has an older brother named Hong Wengang, who's a gang leader in Thailand and has had heart problems since childhood. The shootout at the cruise terminal was Hong Wengang trying to kidnap his brother to use his heart to save his own life..."
"Alright, alright, I already know that. Just tell me when Hong Wengang and his brother are headed to Thailand. I'm only interested in killing them both."
"We don't have an exact date yet. Hong Wenbiao is still in critical condition in the hospital after being shot three times, but it shouldn't be long, as Hong Wengang's heart condition is worsening."
"Okay, let me know as soon as they head to Thailand. And what about Gunnar?"
"Sir, Gunnar, Caesar, and Toll Road are all in Thailand hunting down Popovich."
"They're all in Thailand, huh?" William sneered. "Good, we can take them all out in one go. Anything else?"
"Yes, Sir. Two things. First, White Ghost asked me to inform you that he's taken care of that assassin leader who called himself 'M' and his top officials. Second, Agent 007, Mr. Craig, would like to speak with you."
"Tell White Ghost to wait for me in Thailand, and connect the call to Craig," William instructed.
"Yes, Sir. Connecting the call now."
The phone rang a few times before Craig's anxious voice came through. "William, I need your help."
"My help?" William asked, surprised. "Why aren't you going to Gareth for this? If MI6 can't handle it, what good would I be?"
"No, I know you have a team of highly capable people. I need your help to take down that mob boss you mentioned," Craig said, clearly frustrated. "That guy has ten bodyguards around him 24/7, even when he's sleeping or having fun. I can't get close enough to him. I need a sniper to take him out from a distance."
"I have no idea what you're talking about. Where did you get that info? I don't have any super snipers," William flatly denied, unwilling to expose Carlos the Cross.
"Don't be so quick to say no. If you don't want to use your own people, then help me convince someone else—a guy named Bob Lee Swagger, a Londoner who once served in the US military. He's one of the few officially recognized super snipers."
Bob Lee Swagger? Why does that name sound so familiar? William thought for a moment and asked, "Wait, what does this have to do with me?"
"Of course it has to do with you. Bob Lee Swagger was your neighbor when you were a kid. You even met his father, Old Swagger, at a fan event recently," Craig explained.
With that, William remembered. "Bob? That short kid Bob? A super sniper? You're joking, right, Craig?"
"Sorry, but I'm not joking. Bob Lee Swagger is a known super sniper. A few years ago, he had an accident that led to his retirement. He's been hiding out in the Montana mountains since then. Our people tried contacting him, but he refused. That's why I thought you'd have a better chance."
Bob Lee Swagger... why does that name sound so familiar? "Got any pictures?"
"I'll send one over now," Craig said.
A moment later, a photo appeared on William's virtual desktop. One look, and William immediately realized why the name had sounded so familiar. This was the sniper from Shooter.
"Wait for my call," William told Craig before hanging up. Then, his eyes glinted with a plan. "Sunday, send Bob's address to his dad and give Old Swagger two VIP tickets, saying I'm inviting them to watch the Chelsea vs. Manchester United match in a few days."
"Understood, Sir."
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