"Missiles?" Obadiah looked at William in surprise, his expression complicated. "Are you sure you know what you're doing, William?
Selling small arms is one thing, but selling missiles—high-damage weapons—if the CIA finds out, do you realize what kind of consequences you'll face?"
William sneered. To him, the CIA was hardly a concern. What was surprising was that this bald man in front of him—wasn't he the same Obadiah Stane who dared to sell Jericho missiles to the Ten Rings?
"If I can replicate American-made portable missile systems and discreetly transport them to hidden locations in the desert for you to pick up,
then all you need to do is deliver them to your clients. Even then, you wouldn't dare sell them?"
"But if something goes wrong, all the risk falls on me."
William smirked in disdain and pointed at his own face. "Obadiah, I think you've got the situation all wrong. Look closely—I am William Devonshire.
If it weren't for the fact that I value your connections in the desert,
do you think I'd bother discussing a deal worth less than a billion dollars with you?
Do you really think I need this money? Or that I can't make far more elsewhere?"
Obadiah was momentarily speechless. He stared at William in silence for a long time before finally conceding, "Alright, if I get any deals, I'll give you a call."
"Sorry, but no phone calls."
This old fox wasn't a trustworthy man. William wanted to make trouble for the U.S., not have the U.S. coming after him.
Pulling up a safe house in Switzerland via Sunday, he continued,
"I'll send you a list of available weapons along with their codenames.
From now on, when you secure an order, write a letter listing the weapon codenames and quantities, and send it to this Swiss address.
Once the weapons are manufactured, I'll transport them to the desert and send you the pickup coordinates.
You do have ways to move them to your clients from there, don't you?"
Seeing how cautious William was, Obadiah actually felt more at ease.
"No problem—I'll wait for your letter."
With business concluded, the two men casually chatted.
Meanwhile, others in the banquet hall, who had been observing William, noticed the relaxed laughter between him and Obadiah.
It quickly became clear that William was unharmed, and more people began trying to approach him.
By the time he fended off a third wave of women attempting to seduce him, Obadiah finished his champagne and smacked his lips.
"Spending time with you, all the ladies are staring at you, and they're probably cursing me for being an old man who won't take the hint.
I'll be in London until the day after tomorrow. I assume I don't need to tell you where I'm staying?"
"Okay. By the time you return to your hotel, the list will be waiting for you in the lobby. Make sure to pick it up."
"Perfect. Have fun, kid."
Obadiah shook hands with William before walking off with his drink to socialize with other acquaintances.
Meanwhile, William instructed Sunday to select suitable weapons for production and deploy drone scouts over the desert to create a detailed map.
Just as he started heading toward Abigail, a voice called out behind him.
"Mr. Devonshire."
Turning around, William's eyes lit up.
Standing there, smiling sweetly at him, was none other than the Black Widow herself—Natasha Romanoff, clad in a form-fitting pink evening gown.
"Hey, Natasha, you look stunning tonight."
"Thank you. Too bad you said that too late—if I were still single, I might have invited you over for coffee."
"You have a boyfriend?"
William's heart skipped a beat at her blatant flirting, but he quickly realized—she was approaching him with an agenda.
"What a shame. Can I ask who the lucky guy is?"
"Well…"
Before she could finish, Natasha actually blushed, hesitating as she quietly said,
"I should thank you, actually. If you and Miss Abigail hadn't hired me as an assistant, I never would've met Charles."
"Charles Cavendish?"
"Yes, Mr. Devonshire. We met when he visited Lady Lena and Miss Abigail.
After a few interactions, we decided to give dating a try."
Holding his champagne, William discreetly scanned Natasha with his mental abilities.
Confirming she was human, he gave her an amused look.
I wonder if that Skrull managed to get what he wanted.
However, Natasha's sharp instincts suddenly gave her a sense of unease.
Her mind raced—she hadn't seen Charles Cavendish for over two hours.
And sure enough, just as she was about to come up with an excuse, William chuckled and said,
"I originally thought that after meeting me in London, Nick Fury—the one-eyed freak—had gone into hiding, too afraid to keep investigating me.
But it turns out, not only did he not back off, he actually escalated things, sending someone to impersonate Charles Cavendish to get close to me."
"Tell me, Miss Romanoff—do you know the real identity of this fake Charles Cavendish?"
"I—I… I'm sorry, Mr. Devonshire, but I don't understand what you mean."
William locked eyes with Natasha, using his mental abilities to monitor her heartbeat.
For once, he couldn't tell what the other person was truly thinking.
He had to admit—he was impressed. He even gave her a slow, mocking round of applause.
"This is the first time I've encountered someone whose thoughts I can't read.
You truly live up to being one of the Red Room's elite operatives."
The moment Natasha heard the words Red Room, her fake confusion vanished.
Her face paled, and her grip on her champagne tightened. Every muscle in her body tensed.
"Relax, Miss Romanoff. I don't intend to harm you—for now.
In fact, I need you to deliver a message to that one-eyed freak.
When his 'monster friends' return, tell him to come to London and see me.
I believe we have quite a bit to discuss."
"Sorry, but when I see Fury, I'll tell him to stay far away from you," Natasha replied coldly.
She stared directly into William's eyes.
"The killing intent in your gaze—it doesn't fool someone who's lived as long as I have."
"You're absolutely right," William admitted without hesitation.
"Before seeing you just now, I did plan to kill him.
If it weren't for the fact that the one-eyed freak is hiding somewhere I can't reach,
his corpse would've already turned cold by now.
But now, I've changed my mind—because there are still things that only he can do.
If I had to handle them myself, it would be a waste of my time and energy."
For the first time, Natasha started to waver. She frowned.
"Like what?"
Instead of answering, William asked,
"Since you were born in '28 in the Soviet Union, you must have heard of Red Skull."
"Of course," Natasha said, her frown deepening.
"What exactly are you trying to say?"
Heh.
William immediately understood why Natasha was irritated—she hated that he had just casually revealed the year she was born.
If it weren't for her… questionable history, William might have been genuinely interested in her.
But knowing how many hands she had passed through, any attraction he had toward her was immediately doused.
"My apologies—that was my mistake," William said with a shrug.
"When you see Nick Fury, just tell him this—I am not your enemy.
Because those lunatics who chant 'cut off one head, two shall take its place'…
They're back."
(End of Chapter)
[Get +20 Extra Chapters On — P@tr3on "Mutter"]
[Every 100 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter Drop]
[Thanks for Reading!]