The fire began to spread, and thick smoke was sucked into Bernie Laporte's lungs.
"Ugh, cough, cough!" A fit of violent coughing ensued.
He tried to breathe, but every breath brought more smoke into his lungs, worsening his coughing. After a few coughs, he suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood.
The temperature inside the car kept rising, almost as if the flames were burning directly into the cabin. Knowing he wouldn't survive, Bernie endured the scorching heat and his labored breathing.
With his functioning right hand, he reached into his jacket pocket. Since he couldn't escape death, he had to at least ensure that word of his fate reached headquarters. Sloan needed to know there was a traitor within the Assassin Brotherhood.
From Bernie's perspective, William Devonshire had already known about the Brotherhood's plans to assassinate him.
At that moment, William, now home, sat on his couch watching footage transmitted by his spider robot. For someone who had plotted to kill his mother, William felt no pity or hesitation.
"Sir, should I block the message or intercept it directly?"
Hearing that the message could be intercepted, William wasn't in a rush. Narrowing his eyes, he asked, "What's the content of the message?"
"The content has been intercepted. It essentially warns Sloan that there is a traitor within the Assassin Brotherhood and informs him that you were already aware of their assassination attempt."
"Ha, this guy's loyal, I'll give him that. Even as he's dying, he's still thinking about the Brotherhood. Too bad he doesn't know the biggest traitor in the Brotherhood is Sloan himself." With a sigh, William added, "Send him to meet his maker."
"Understood, sir."
Despite the searing pain, Bernie managed to send the message to Sloan. His vision blurred, and his thoughts began to drift. A faint smile appeared on his face. But before he could let go of the phone, he felt something move on the back of his hand.
Snapping back to reality, he saw a spider crawling across his hand.
Oddly, the spider wasn't afraid of the fire and gleamed with a metallic shine under the flames.
Damn it, this isn't a real spider.
Before he could process the thought, a sharp crackling sound erupted as electricity surged across the back of his hand. His grip loosened, and the phone fell between the car seats.
Then, with a deafening explosion, the car was launched into the air, crashing into the convenience store ceiling before slamming back to the ground and bursting into flames.
With the would-be assassin dealt with, William turned his focus elsewhere. He found himself annoyed that Cross was taking too long to eliminate targets. Sloan still had time to plot against him and his mother.
He called Bob Lee Swagger, who was still in the USA, instructing him to snipe the less-skilled members of the Brotherhood. The more dangerous ones would be left to Cross.
At the same time, he summoned White Ghost as a precaution while Black Ghost was stationed at Oxford Castle with Antonov's four-man team to protect his mother.
As for Ambrosio and Abigail, William opted for a simpler solution. He rented a yacht, filled it with several women introduced by his yacht club, and took them out for a party off the coast of New York.
The move made headlines worldwide, with many speculating that William's relationship with Ambrosio was on the rocks. After all, why else would a man with no previous scandals suddenly start living the life of a playboy?
The only regret for the media and public was the lack of photos from the yacht.
As for whether William's stunt was truly about protecting his two women or simply indulging a desire for fun, only he knew. Whatever the case, he returned three days later in high spirits.
His good mood stemmed from two things. First, he had finally experienced the carefree lifestyle he had always wanted to try. Second, during those three days, Swagger and Cross had taken down seven or eight Brotherhood members.
The losses left the Assassin Brotherhood reeling. Within just ten days, over ten members were dead, forcing the already small group to retreat to their headquarters, leaving only those carrying out Loom of Fate missions active.
Sloan had no choice but to put his plans against William and his mother on hold.
Sunday monitored everyone who returned to the headquarters.
A few days later, a middle-aged man with slicked-back hair and a long coat arrived at the textile factory, easing Sloan's anxiety.
The man, codenamed "X," was known only by his alias. No one knew his real name.
Upon entering Sloan's office, X didn't bother knocking. He pushed the door open and asked, "Why haven't you tried recruiting Cross, the same way you recruited me?"
Sloan, who rarely smiled, felt a headache coming on at X's question. If it were that easy, he wouldn't be in such a panic now. He had hinted and tested Cross multiple times, but Cross had shown no interest. On the contrary, he had started investigating the Brotherhood in secret.
"It's pointless, X. Before your and my names appeared on the Loom of Fate, could you have imagined betraying your beliefs?"
"Then kill Cross," X said coldly. He understood that Cross's name wasn't on the Loom of Fate like theirs. Without sharing their fate, there was no chance of cooperation. With a chilling tone, X added, "I told you before—Cross has a son. Have you found him yet?"
"We're working on it. We've narrowed it down to a few possibilities, but first, I want you to look at this." Sloan pulled a bullet with a spiral pattern from his desk drawer.
"This was extracted from Steve's body yesterday. The gunsmith says it has no rifling marks, which means it was handcrafted.
"I suspect Cross is collaborating with someone to attack us. I want you to trace this bullet to whoever is supplying him and find more leads."
"You can have someone else handle that. I'm only interested in finding Cross," X replied with a frown.
Sloan sighed. "You know Cross. Aside from you, I can't think of anyone who could escape from him alive. Besides—"
"Besides what?" X interrupted, annoyed.
"Perhaps what I'm about to say will upset you, and for that, I apologize," Sloan said, spreading his hands. "But I hope you can draw Cross out. Otherwise, we'll just sit here, waiting for him to pick us off one by one."
X understood. He and Cross shared the same extraordinary abilities: their hearts could beat up to 400 times per minute, flooding their bodies with adrenaline. This granted them superhuman vision and reflexes.
If X were hunting the Brotherhood, no assassin could survive him in a one-on-one encounter.
"Fine."
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