Chapter 68: Collecting a Debt
"Mr. McCullen says he's connected," a soldier informed Heavy Duty.
"Bring him up on holographic display."
Following behind Heavy Duty were Duke, the mission's survivor, and his friend Ripcord.
"Do you know who hit us?" Duke asked.
"Not yet, but they have advanced weaponry and serious financial backing."
"We need to gather as much intel on them as possible." The group continued talking as they entered the command center.
Inside, the 3D holographic projection of MARS Industries CEO James McCullen was already waiting impatiently.
"Thank you so much for recovering these warheads!" McCullen said, his tone dripping with arrogance.
He looked at Duke, his contempt even more pronounced. "Your team nearly cost me $13 billion?"
"What the hell do you mean? My team lost their lives on this mission!" Duke shot back angrily.
"But you still lost the cargo. If you weren't special forces, you'd be court-martialed even if you died a hundred times over!" McCullen replied dismissively, barely glancing up.
"This mission was classified. The tracking device in the case was only in your possession, so I suspect the operation was compromised. There's definitely a mole somewhere!" Duke analyzed.
"Is that your excuse for failure?"
"Alright, gentlemen, we need to stay focused. The priority now is identifying who's after these warheads," Heavy Duty interjected.
Setting aside his prejudice against Mason, Heavy Duty was still a competent field commander.
"Fine, but I need to deactivate the tracking device in the case first," McCullen said, his eyes flickering.
"No need. We've already disabled it," Breaker said from his station.
"Oh, have you?" McCullen's gaze swept over Breaker's face. "You don't mind if I verify that personally?"
Breaker was clearly irritated by McCullen's distrust, but Heavy Duty hesitated for a moment before nodding approval.
After entering the passcode, the reinforced case opened, revealing four glowing warheads. McCullen stepped forward, placed his hand near the virtual keypad of the tracking device, and pretended to input commands.
With his back to everyone, no one could see which keys he touched—except Mason, standing in the corner, who narrowed his eyes slightly.
He remembered. In the original timeline, McCullen had remotely reactivated the warhead tracking system, pinpointing the G.I. Joe base hidden beneath the Egyptian desert and launching a full-scale attack.
"I need to be kept informed of your movements and progress at all times," McCullen commanded arrogantly, then deactivated the 3D projection and vanished.
Taking advantage of everyone's attention being elsewhere, Mason quickly stepped forward, subtly touched the open case several times, then silently retreated.
"What an arrogant bastard," Breaker muttered irritably.
Just as Heavy Duty was about to respond, he suddenly noticed Mason standing nearby. "What are you doing here? You're not assigned to this operation. Go back to quarters!" After their earlier confrontation, Heavy Duty didn't even want Mason present in the command center.
"I'm requesting leave. I need to return to Paris."
Heavy Duty was taken aback at first, then his expression relaxed. This operation was extremely dangerous, and they were already short-handed. But unexpectedly, Duke and Ripcord, whom they'd rescued during the mission, had proven to be exceptionally capable soldiers—he was already considering recruiting them.
Now that Mason wanted to leave, it suited his plans perfectly.
"Fine. Take a few days. You can rejoin the team after this operation concludes."
Mason looked around the room and left without another word.
Scarlett seemed about to say something, but Heavy Duty waved her off, cutting her short. Everyone began tracking down the attackers' identities based on the intel they'd gathered.
Meanwhile, at thirty-five thousand feet, aboard a jet heading toward the Arctic, McCullen was roaring with fury.
"I need those warheads—now!"
The Baroness, standing across from him, replied impatiently, "If you'd let me hit the factory in Kyrgyzstan, the warheads would already be ours!"
"Unacceptable. Losing the warheads at the factory would cause our clients to lose confidence in MARS!" McCullen explained tersely. "I need someone else to take the fall."
Seeing the Baroness's constantly shifting expressions, McCullen's face hardened. Thinking of his recent encounter with Duke, he looked at her and asked seriously, "Did seeing him again affect your judgment?"
"Absolutely not!" The Baroness sneered, then changed the subject. "Have you located the case?"
McCullen smiled confidently. "They obviously disabled the signal tracker, but I just reactivated it." He opened the control panel before him, but the map where the tracking beacon should have appeared remained blank.
He tried several more times, but no location markers appeared on the screen. A bead of cold sweat rolled down McCullen's temple.
"I distinctly remember activating..."
"Want to try again?" the Baroness suggested.
"Do you think they're complete idiots? Even a child would know it was me if I accessed it again!" Losing face in front of her made McCullen furious.
He took a deep breath. "Leave the case location to me. You don't need to worry about the rest. And you'd better be more careful. Last time you sent someone to eliminate that Mason operative, you ended up killing General Hawk instead."
"Do you have any idea how much effort I expended keeping you clear of that? Keep a lower profile. If there's anyone you can't handle, I'll send Storm Shadow to assist you."
"Are you sending him to help me, or to spy on me?" Anger flashed across the Baroness's face.
McCullen's expression shifted. He reached through the Baroness's 3D projection, as if wanting to touch her face, and said tenderly, "I just don't want to see you hurt."
"Perhaps I don't mind a little pain. I'm a married woman, after all." The Baroness smirked, then terminated the projection under McCullen's murderous glare.
McCullen, his face dark with rage, snorted coldly. "Storm Shadow, get to the Baroness's position immediately. If any man so much as touches her, I don't care who he is—kill him!"
With a flash of white, a cold-faced Asian man in pristine white tactical gear vanished without a sound.
He was Storm Shadow—Snake Eyes's former sword brother and one of the few remaining weapons masters in the world.
Meanwhile, Mason, having departed the Egyptian base, was en route to the Château de Corbeau on the outskirts of Paris.
He was going there to meet someone, discuss a transaction, and collect a debt.
[Support Goal: 500 PS → +1 Chapter]
[Support Goal: 10 Reviews → +1 Chapter]
Your review helps the story grow.
P2treon DarkFoxx (30+ chapters ahead)