Staring at the now-sealed mine, William remained silent for a few seconds. He felt no guilt about eliminating the Hammer family, who had already taken steps to kill both him and his mother.
What did unnerve him, however, was the fleeting but intense surge of madness that had flashed through his mind moments ago. Thankfully, he hadn't lost control. Raising his hand, he opened another portal and returned to Brown's study.
Following Sunday's instructions, William meticulously restored the study to its original condition and erased any traces linking him to the scene using his mental powers.
Exiting the study, he retraced his steps, clearing any footprints, then leaped over the estate wall and walked about a hundred meters to his parked motorcycle. He sped off toward the Assassin Brotherhood's textile factory.
After a 30-minute ride, William arrived beneath a bridge about a kilometer from the Brotherhood's headquarters by the Hudson River. He parked the motorcycle and scanned the surrounding area with his mental powers to ensure there were no cameras nearby.
Once certain it was secure, he instructed Sunday to locate an old, unused storage container that had been rented years ago and forgotten. With a simple gesture, the lock popped open.
Inside the container, William opened a portal, and moments later, dozens of spider-robot launchers were deposited inside. Standing by, he said, "Sunday, connect me to Carlos."
"Yes, sir," Sunday replied.
After a few seconds of beeping, the call connected.
"William," Carlos's familiar low voice came through. "What's the matter?"
Before William could respond, the sound of a subway train rumbling over tracks echoed through the phone. William smirked; he knew Carlos was in New York, likely near the decrepit house under the train tracks where his son, Wesley, lived. Choosing not to comment, William got straight to the point.
"Someone in the Assassin Brotherhood has placed a contract on me and my mother."
Carlos's voice sharpened immediately. "Who issued the hit?"
"Brown Hammer," William said bluntly. "Don't worry about him, though. I've already dealt with the entire Hammer family." After a pause, he asked, "What's your current standing with the Brotherhood?"
"Not great," Carlos admitted after a brief silence. "Sloan probably suspects that I know he's been using the Brotherhood for personal gain. About 40 days ago, he gave me a mission targeting someone named Pecov Stamp.
"I did some digging and discovered Pecov was part of the European Brotherhood. When I met him, I staged a confrontation to fake his death. Since then, Sloan hasn't assigned me any tasks. I suspect he's found out that Pecov is still alive."
William narrowed his eyes. He knew Sloan wasn't merely suspicious; the old man was certain Carlos had betrayed him. "Do you have a list of the New York Brotherhood's members?" William asked.
"I don't have a list, but I know most of them by face," Carlos replied. Suddenly, his tone became alarmed. "You're not planning to wipe out the entire New York Brotherhood, are you?"
"Exactly," William said coldly. "If I don't eliminate them, should I wait for the survivors to regroup and come after me later?"
"That's impossible," Carlos said urgently. "No matter how skilled we are, we can't eliminate all of them. If we act rashly, the assassins skilled in hiding will simply vanish. As long as they stay dormant, no one will find them."
William nodded slightly, agreeing with Carlos. "If a clean sweep isn't possible, then let's take your approach. We'll start by picking off those on missions. If we kill enough of them, don't you think the remaining assassins will retreat to their base at the textile factory for safety?
"And I'll make sure the Brotherhood has bigger problems to deal with than targeting me and my mother."
"Maybe," Carlos conceded, though he still sounded hesitant. "If I go after their operatives and take out enough of them, Sloan might gather the remaining members to avoid being picked off one by one."
"Good. You take care of the ones on missions. I'll work on identifying the rest of the Brotherhood's members."
Carlos hesitated for a moment before agreeing reluctantly. "Understood."
William could sense Carlos's concern. "Are you sure Sloan doesn't know about Wesley? If you want, I can arrange for him to hide out in Oxford or Switzerland for a while."
"No," Carlos said firmly. "Switzerland is out of the question. The European Brotherhood's headquarters are there. I can't guarantee Sloan doesn't have spies watching the area." After a few moments of silence, he added, "I've never had direct contact with Wesley. I've always watched him from the shadows. Even if Sloan suspects I have family, he shouldn't know who they are."
"Are you sure?" William asked, suppressing a grin. If Carlos agreed to let Wesley be moved, it would complicate William's plans to awaken Wesley's latent assassin potential.
In the original timeline, Sloan used the guise of avenging Wesley's father to recruit him into the Brotherhood. This narrative played perfectly into Wesley's transformation—from a timid, cowardly loser to a driven, highly skilled assassin.
Fueled by love for the assassin Fox, hatred for his supposed father's killer, and the thrill of discovering his natural assassin abilities, Wesley's explosive growth was almost inevitable.
Still, William didn't want Carlos to suspect his motives. "If Sloan targets Wesley to lure you out," William continued, "he could recruit Wesley, frame a Brotherhood assassin as his father, and train him to kill you. What would you do then?"
Carlos was startled by the suggestion but quickly calmed down, his assassin instincts kicking in. He realized that if Sloan was already suspicious of him, there was no way Sloan would let him live. To survive, Carlos would have to act first.
"Even if Wesley hasn't been exposed, Sloan won't stop hunting me. I'll have to deal with him and the Brotherhood eventually. If Wesley joins them, at least he'll be trained by their experts, which is far better than what I could do for him.
"As long as Wesley can protect himself, it'll make things easier."
William chuckled. "As long as you don't mind your son being trained like a machine, the rest should be manageable."
"I've been through a lot, William," Carlos said gravely. "As long as Wesley survives, I can accept anything."
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