January 1996, a remote territory in northern Canada.?

  The wilderness lay blanketed by relentless snowfall, howling winds ripping through the valley and whipping ground-level powder into spectral veils of ice. Yet deep within this frozen crucible stood an anomaly — a weathered log cabin, its eastern cedar walls and sloped roof defiantly withstanding both time and arctic fury.

  No sane soul would brave these mountains in such conditions. Almost none.

  A solitary figure emerged from the blizzard's wrath at the mountain pass, clawing through waist-deep snowdrifts. Clad in white tactical gear with a fur-lined motorcycle helmet and dual ice axes, he became a ghost within the storm. He pressed against the rocky outcrop near the pass, waiting for the gale to subside before advancing.

  Five grueling minutes later, the cabin materialized through the haze. The man wiped frost from his visor, exhaling sharply at the sight. A grim smile cracked his windburned lips as he reached the snow-buried eaves. Ice axes secured, he removed his helmet — revealing the haunted eyes of a man who'd walked through hell to get here.

  The man appeared to be in his late twenties, with a clean-cut military buzzcut and sharply defined features—thick eyebrows, prominent cheekbones, and a square jaw that conveyed resolute determination, though a hint of shrewdness lingered in his eyes. Frank Worden, a Grey Runner operating under the EURUS Intelligence and Security Committee (EISC).

  Frank pulled an H&K MP5K-PDW from his backpack, extended its collapsible stock, loaded a magazine with a practiced click, and raised the rifle to a low-ready position. He methodically scanned the cabin’s perimeter for traps before nudging the door open with his boot.

  Inside, the cabin was meticulously maintained—proof of recent habitation. The faint white noise of a television drew Frank toward an inner room. There, an elderly man sat motionless on a threadbare couch, his gaze fixed on a CRT television.

  The man was at least seventy, his face a map of wrinkles, scalp dotted with sparse white hairs. His hands—resting on a woolen blanket—bore thick calluses at the first knuckle of his index finger and the base of his thumb, the unmistakable marks of years of firearm use. To most, he might resemble a retired war veteran. Frank knew the truth ran darker.

  The television’ s blank, staticky screen emitted only the crackling hum of static electricity. The old man didn’t stir as Frank entered, though his slight shift in posture betrayed awareness of the armed intruder. When he finally turned his head, his eyes met Frank’ s with a gaze that held neither fear nor surprise—only a weary, meaningful calm, as if this confrontation had been preordained.

  Frank kept his weapon lowered, index finger hovering above the trigger guard. Something in the old man's demeanor suggested unfinished business—final words, a plea, perhaps a confession. He'd grant him that courtesy before execue him.

  Archer: "So... he sent only you?"

  Frank: "You not hard to handle, just hard to find."

  Archer: "Hahaha! Commendable persistence. And also a Brits?" Frank's British accent hadn't escaped him.

  Frank: "You have problem with Brits?"

  Archer: "Your people always have a lot superiority complex."

  Frank: "Don't confuse me with them, they never treated me as one of their own."

  Archer: "Ah. Oh, no wonder you're able to hang out with him, got it!"

  Frank: "What the fuck do you know?"

  Archer: "I know too much, which is why so many people want want me dead."

  Frank: "Okay, Ethan Archer, The rouge agent, any last words?"

  Archer: "Last words? What do you expect me to say ?"

  Frank: "I don't know, don't you know a lot? Don't you want to tell me more at this time? I'm still in the mood to wait for you, hurry up."

  Archer: (Sneering) "Aren't you afraid that he and your employer will punish you for this?"

  ?Frank: "The communication has been cut off by the blizzard, no one can hear our conversation. Don't worry."

  ?Archer: "Uh... for yourself, it's better not to know. In this world, there's no secret that can be completely kept, even after you die."

  ?Frank: "Begging for mercy now?"

  ?Archer: "Mercy? I'm already dead. Even if it wasn't your Team, another team will, they might be heading here."

  Frank began to feel a little nervous because someone had told him that there would be other competitors for his operation. But now it seems that he should have taken the lead. This old man's life or death is up to him.

  Archer: "I have nothing to explain. I have no regrets about everything I have done. Everything is just a matter of business. I don't have much affection for my colleagues or superiors. I don't care whether they live or die, whether they succeed or not. Because the whole system is like this. No matter how many years you have devoted yourself to your country or organization, once you have no practical value, you can only end up like this. I know, he knows, and you should know better."

  Frank got himself lost in thought and slowly moved his fingers away from the trigger. This is a good opportunity for Archer, if he hides a shotgun under his blanket. But Archer had already made up his mind and didn't want the person who executing him to have such hesitation, so he quickly interrupted him.

  Archer: "Enough. Do what you came for."

  He spread his arms, head tilting back against the couch. After hesitating for a moment, Frank suddenly raised his hand and pulled the trigger. The gunshot echoed in the narrow room, and the bullet instantly penetrated Archer's heart, splashing fresh blood on the blanket. Immediately afterwards, the second bullet hit his forehead, causing Archer's body to shake violently before collapsing weakly on the couch.

  Frank stood still, the gun in his hand still trembling slightly. He looked into Archer's eyes as he gradually lost his life, and an indescribable emotion surged in his heart. He knew that he had just completed a task, but at the same time, he had lost something - perhaps humanity, perhaps faith.

  Gradually, the blizzard outside became smaller, and his communication was gradually recovering.

  Controller: "Come in... Hello... Come in? Alpha One, do you read?."

  Frank: (Pressing earpiece) "This is Alpha One, Signal clear."

  Controller: "What’s the situation? Alpha One."

  Frank: "Target located and eliminated. I Repeat, package is burned."

  There was a brief silence on the other end of the phone. Then suddenly a different voice spoke to him. That person, like Frank, uses a British accent.

  Charles: "Activate forward-facing camera. Now."

  Frank holstered his weapon, triggering the button-sized camera concealed in his jacket's breastplate.

  In a dimly lit control room behind a wall-sized monitor, ?Charles Woodhart? — flanked by EISC analysts and CIA liaisons — watched Archer's corpse pixelate into clarity. Charles exhaled deeply, conflicting emotions playing across his face.

  Charles: "Nice work, Alpha One. Exfil immediately."

  ?Frank: "No body disposal?"

  ?Charles: "Negative. Let the scavengers find him—a message that old debts are settled."

  Frank didn't dwell on Charles' cryptic message. Securing his helmet and gear, he exited the cabin only to have his comms crackle again.

  ?Charles: "Alert, Alpha One! Two unidentified six-man squads inbound—full combat loadout. Take cover!"

  Engine roars echoed through the mountain pass. Frank sprinted toward the tree line, but the snowmobiles' throaty growls were already closing in. With no time to evade, he belly-flopped into a snowdrift, burying himself completely except for his helmet's optical slit.

  The mystery force materialized minutes later—twelve operatives in arctic camo wielding AK-74Ms. Dismounting their Ski-Doo MXZ 600s, they established perimeter security while six breached the cabin. Flashbangs detonated inside, followed by aggressive clearing drills. Their frustration was palpable when they emerged empty-handed.

  Instead of withdrawing, the team's tracker spotted Frank's boot prints. They fanned out in search grid formation. Frank's gloved hand tightened around his MP5K's grip.

  Charles: "Avoid engagement! Exfil via western tree line!"

  Frank: "Negative. Exit's blocked. Hostile elimination required."

  Charles conferred with CIA liaisons who shrugged off responsibility post-mission.

  Charles: (Gritting teeth) "Weapons free. Prioritize exfiltration."

  Frank low-crawled toward the snowmobiles, freezing when two hostiles passed within arm's reach. Their thermal scanners missed his insulated suit. Reaching the nearest Ski-Doo, he found keys still in the ignition.

  A shout erupted—the trackers had spotted disturbed snow near the vehicles. Frank erupted from his hiding place, hip-firing his MP5K. Two 9mm rounds dropped the closest operatives. The engine roared to life as he gunned the throttle, fishtailing through the killzone.

  Laughter died in Frank's throat as four pursuit snowmobiles materialized in his mirrors.

  ?Frank: "Who the fuck are these psychos?!"

  ?Charles: "Unknown hostiles! Vector west!"

  The chase became a ballet of violence. Frank one-handed his MP5K, stitching controlled bursts—a rear gunner slumped, then a driver's head snapped back. Two snowmobiles collided in a shower of sparks and gasoline.

  The western ridge revealed its treachery—a 15-meter ravine bisecting the escape route. Frank maxed the Ski-Doo's RPM, discarding his empty SMG and crouching low.

  Airborne for an eternity, the snowmobile's skis caught the far ledge with a metallic scream. Pursuers skidded to a halt at the chasm, rifles barking uselessly as Frank vanished into the pines.

  The control room erupted in cheers as Frank's snowmobile cleared the ravine. Charles slammed the desk, pride cutting through his usual composure.

  Charles: "Bloody brilliant! That's how it's done!"

  Onscreen, Frank slumped against the Ski-Doo's handlebars, breath fogging the Arctic air in ragged bursts. A wry grin twisted his chapped lips.

  Frank: "Put me on leave, Charlie. Three months minimum."

  Charles: (Softening) "Approved. Go find a beach with decent mojitos."

  Three days later.

  Frank was lying quietly alone in his hotel suite. The unforgettable terrifying memories once again transformed into nightmares and infiltrated into his dreams.

  "Move now! This is our only shot!"

  "Negative! Hold position! The package stays protected!"

  "Look at them, they sacrificed themselves so that we could escape! Hurry up, I'll cover—"

  He rushed out of the house and engaged in battle with the enemy, successfully reaching the other end. As soon as he turned around, the shell landed in the original room and instantly shattered it into pieces. He didn't even have time to shout, and the shockwave of the shell had already blown him away.

  Then

  Frank suddenly woke up from his dream, sweating profusely and his heart rate skyrocketed instantly. He gasped heavily and tightly gripped the bed sheet with both hands, as if trying to grab onto the vanished battlefield. After a long time, he realized that he was in a warm hotel suite, surrounded by silence, with only the city lights flickering outside the window.

  Suddenly, he heard a sound coming from outside the house and immediately reached out to touch the handgun under his pillow. But as soon as he received the handgun, he remembered that he was now in a continental hotel. What fool would dare to kill him in such a place?

  But he still didn't slack off, holding a handgun and walking to the door. Through the peephole, he realized that his old friend Charles was standing outside. He breathed a sigh of relief and opened the door.

  Charles: "Hey, how are you, buddy? Why are you holding a gun?"

  ?Frank: (Lowering handgun) "No, I just... nothing."

  ?Charles: "Mind if I park myself here?"

  ?Frank:(Gesturing inward) "sure, boss, sure."

  Charles walked into the room with great respect and sat on the sofa with Frank.

  Charles: "How have you been lately? Not that bad, right?"

  ?Frank: "Everything's okay, boss, don’t worry."

  ?Charles: "Drop the 'boss' crap. We're off the clock."

  ?Frank: "Whatever you say... Chuck."

  ?Charles: (Wincing) "Just call me Charles."

  ?Frank: "Is there anything wrong?"

  ?Charles: "Oh, I found out about the people who fought with you last time. They were Coyote Scouts, probably hired by someone to find Ethan Archer. But they didn't want to kill him, they wanted to take him away. When they saw that you killed Ethan Archer, they were planning to take you to hand him over, eventually they got into a tough fight."

  Frank: (Snorting) "Coyote Scouts? Those trackers from the Balkan ratlines? Why not burn their network?"

  Charles: "Because they like us, are third-party, killing them won't help us find the real mastermind behind it. Besides, we still have a vested interest in them."

  ?Frank: "I get it. Everything's transactional."

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  ?Charles: "I know you dislike these things, Frank. But now most organizations in the world operate in this way, without a trend of interests, and it is difficult to sustain life within the organization. I am also trying to change all of this, gradually building all of our actions on justice and striving to maintain good things in the world. That's why I and the other twelve knights created Committee together. We are not CIA, we are not MI6, we don't need to do those inhumane things for the government, we don't need to treat our operatives as consumables that can be sacrificed at any time. We can do better than them, but the premise is that we need funds to sustain our livelihood. And now we can only rely on our previous relationships to find those people to cooperate with."

  ?Frank: "So if we cooperate with the CIA and MI6, don't we still have to help them with dirty work? "

  ?Charles: "We can escape at any time and leave the consequences to them to bear. And they won't treat us like laborers. We have many leverage here that they don't have. These leverage allow us to stand undefeated among them."

  Charles: "That's not what you need to care about, Frank."

  Frank: "Okay... what about MI6 and SAS? "

  Charles: "Haha, you're still thinking about them?"

  Frank: "They haven't given up searching for me yet."

  Charles: "Don't worry, my friend. I will never reveal you, I swear."

  After Charles left, Frank sat alone on the sofa, gazing out at the city night view. He knew he could temporarily trust Charles, but no one could say for sure what would happen in the future. Perhaps, in this world full of betrayal and lies, the only one to rely on is oneself.

  Late December 1999.

  Fresh from his Vienna holiday, Frank arrived at the Committee's Paris headquarters to debrief with Charles and his deputy Jefferson de Lasse.

  When he walked into Charles' office, he found a teenage girl beside them, who with fine features and close to Jefferson and Charles. When she turned around, Frank recognized her at a glance and smiled happily at her.

  Frank: "Hey Rita, shouldn't you be celebrating Christmas now? ”

  Rita: "Christmas is over, what do you think? It's just that the holiday is too long. Come and take a look. Aren't you all starting work now?" She tilted her head slightly, with a hint of curiosity and unease in her eyes, as if testing Frank's attitude.

  Frank: (Chuckling)"Our vacation is different from ordinary people's. How you doing? They should start teaching you how to be an accountant, right?"

  Rita: "No, Gotta wait till I'm legal drinking age. It's bullshit, isn't it? Some of them became Grey Runners at 18, but didn't let them drink until they were 21." She smiled bitterly and shook her head, "Sometimes I feel like these rules are a bit strange, but I don't know what I really want to do."

  Frank: "Dumbest policy ever invented by morons."

  Jefferson: (Clearing throat)"Okay, Rita. Can you be a good girl and go to the library by yourself? We want to talk about something important."

  Rita: "Sure, Dad. See you later, tough guy." She bounced out of the room with a smile, but there was a hint of reluctance in her eyes as she turned back. Jefferson watched her back and sighed softly, as if worried about his daughter's future.

  Frank couldn't help but smile enviously at her back. As soon as he turned his face, Jefferson looked at him seriously.

  Frank: "What’s up, Jeff?"

  Jefferson: "Nothing, just to see if you're still breathing."

  Frank: "How's she learning? Have you decided which university to go to? You don't want her to join the Committee, do you?"

  Jefferson: "No, she's only 17 years old and I don't want to cause her too much anxiety. But I will definitely send her to college, and she will have to choose her own path afterwards. I won't object if she really wants to join the committee."

  Charles: Hmm, she's quite familiar with our rules. It won't take long to train her, as long as Jeff is willing."

  Jefferson: "I am already very open-minded about my daughter, except in terms of emotions."

  Frank: "You going to restrict her on that? Come on, you are a Frenchman."

  Jefferson: (Coughing)"Can we stop talking about my daughter? Real business!"

  Charles: "Alright. We have a new operation, Frank. I need you to join, and Jefferson

  Frank: "With him? Okay."

  Charles: "What's wrong? Is it inappropriate?"

  Frank: "No, I haven't gone out with him yet."

  Charles: "Jefferson is your commander, he will send his men to assist you. Next, let's talk about the location, which is currently Colchester, in England."

  Frank: "Colchester? England?! You want me to go back to that damn place?!" His voice carried a hint of dissatisfaction and fear.

  Charles: "Calm down, this operation is absolutely confidential. Those MI6 personnel won’t know you were there."

  Frank: "Don't tease me! I don't know what those guys are capable of?! And Colchester, a SAS training base is there, in case they recognize me..."

  Charles: 'We're not going there, could you let to me finish?! The target is an old chemical plant called ACE in the east of Colchester. Do you know that place? "

  Frank: "Of course, what's going on?"

  Charles: "We have received intelligence that the stronghold of a branch of the Irish Republican Army is there. They are different from the legitimate IRA and are more ruthless in their actions. They will arrive in London by waterway from Colchester in three days, the last day of the millennium, and attack London's ports with cargo ships filled with bombs. You must stop them before happen. Eliminate them all."

  Frank: "That's all? Why not just let MI6 handle it? "

  Charles: "Because the explosives they obtained belong to us. They were intercepted from a cargo ship escorted by us. If MI6 finds out, they may use this as an excuse to deal with us. So we cannot let the British government get involved, we can only handle it ourselves. As for why we came to you, it is because you are familiar enough with the environment in Colchester to help us find and solve these hidden terrorists. After confirming the safety of the merchant ship, Jefferson's people will drive the cargo ship to the open sea for destruction, and you can return to Paris with Jefferson."

  Frank: "What if something goes wrong halfway? "

  Charles: "I'll take care of everything, don't worry." His eyes were filled with confidence and decisiveness, as if telling Frank that he would protect his buddy no matter what happened.

  Frank: "Okay. I know it's not appropriate to say... how’s the payment?"

  Charles: "Based on the completion status, the minimum is at least one million."

  Frank: "Pound?"

  Charles: "Yeah. Unless you want something else, I can help you achieve it."

  Frank: "Let's talk about it later. I know you won't refuse anything."

  Charles: "Okay, prepare yourself tonight and take a private plane with him to England at 9 o'clock sharp."

  Frank: "Got it, see you then, Jeff."

  He had just walked out of the office door not far when Rita suddenly rushed out from the other side and bumped into him head-on.That startled him.

  Rita: Oh! Hey! Sorry! I was a little bit rush now."

  Frank: "It's okay." he smile.

  Rita: "Finished your conversation?"

  Frank: Yep, what's wrong?"

  Rita: "It's nothing, just... curious."

  Frank: "You want me to talk to you?"

  He unconsciously wanted to flirt with her, which actually made Rita feel a little uneasy.

  Rita: Uh, next time maybe. When I have time to see you."

  After speaking, she left him without looking back to find her father. Afterwards, Frank felt a little regretful that he dared to talk to a little girl like that. It was simply insane. He knew that this mission was not only related to the interests of the organization, but also to countless innocent lives. He must give his all to ensure the smooth completion of the mission.

  At 9 pm, Frank arrived at Charles de Gaulle Airport on time to meet Jefferson de Lasse. Prior to this, he made some psychological preparations, as this was his first time on a mission with Jefferson. Usually with Charles by his side, he could joke around with Jefferson, but now there were only the two of them, and he didn't know what kind of person Jefferson was in private.

  When he found Jefferson, he found him standing respectfully beside the plane waiting for him, which made him feel a little embarrassed.

  Frank: "Hi Jeff. Are you ready to leave?"

  Jefferson: "I'm waiting for you. Not that bad, very punctual."

  Frank:"How could I keep you waiting? Alright let's go! Who else did you call this time? Wellington? Hunter?"

  Just as he was about to walk into the plane, a figure suddenly emerged, startling him once again. Rita de Lasse, who appearing in front of him again.

  Frank: Damn it! Why are you here?"

  Rita: "Hi! Long time no see!"

  Frank: "We just met this morning. You scared me twice today, girl."

  Rita: "Hehe!"

  Frank: "Are you going to bring her too, Jeff?"

  Jefferson: "What? No! She's going back to London to visit her grandfather, just on her way with us."

  Frank: "But our mission..."

  Jefferson: "They will stay in the north, far away from there."

  Rita: "Don't worry about me, Frank. When you talk about yourselves, I just pretend I didn't hear anything."

  Frank: "Uh..."

  The plane has successfully taken off and is crossing the English Channel.

  Frank was tormented by awkward silence, unable to openly discuss the mission with Jefferson and afraid to do anything inappropriate with Rita. He could only sit quietly in his seat with his eyes closed to rest. Not long after, Rita suddenly looked up and said something to him.

  Rita: "What do you think of James Bond?"

  Frank: "The 007?"

  Rita: "Is he real enough? Is he the same as MI6?"

  Frank: "He's a fictional character, but MI6 is indeed a group of arrogant bastards."

  Rita: Hahaha! Are you stronger than them?"

  Frank: "I dare not boast."

  Rita: "You're the Ghost Wolf!"

  Frank: "Oh, you know how this name came about, right?"

  Rita: "Of course, they all say you were elusive and quietly completed the mission."

  Frank: "In fact, there were only a few times, most of which were when one person just stepped forward, which also led me to have to kill many people."

  Rita: "Oh... what's that feeling like? When you kill someone?"

  Her question became increasingly outrageous, making Frank feel a little uneasy. He turned his head to look at Jefferson, who was still discussing something with Charles on the other side. Frank slowly approached Rita and began to lower his voice.

  Frank: "It depends on who you're targeting. If it's a stranger, I don't have any psychological burden at all, and most of the time I won't take the initiative to intervene. If that person wants to stop me, I have to do it. But afterwards, I really don't give a fuck."

  Rita: "What if it's someone you know?"

  Frank: Well, in that case... if it's someone I hate, I wouldn't hesitate to take action. But if it's someone I have a good relationship with... I don't seem to have experienced it yet."

  Rita: Oh, I can imagine how painful this."

  Frank: "Alright, you little girl, don't think about this anymore. Your dad probably wouldn't let you be a Grey Runner, you wouldn't go through this."

  Rita: "Hmm, what do you think I can be in the committee? The Accountant? The Prosecutor?"

  Frank: "I think it's better for you not to join, this is not a college club. After all..."

  Rita: "What?"

  Frank: "Nothing.It's nothing, ."

  He unconsciously thought of the old woman again and couldn't help feeling a little sad. Rita also saw it at a glance and gently patted his hand.

  Rita: "Don't worry too much about me, I know how to choose my path."

  Frank: "Hmm, okay."

  Rita: "Hmm, okay. Now let's discuss which university in the UK is better. My dad is going crazy because of this."

  Frank: "Are you willing to think for him? I thought you would be very disgusted."

  Rita: "Come on, I know there are different paths in the future, but at least going to college is a necessary path for me. I have been mentally prepared long time for it , and now I am about to determine the direction of attack. The education level in the UK is quite high, and I really hope to complete my studies there."

  Frank: "Well,in that case, let's go straight to Cambridge and Oxford. Your dad should be able to easily send you in, right?"

  Rita: "Of course, it's possible to rely on connections, but I still prefer to rely on my own efforts. My learning ability is not bad now. Hmm, which school did you graduate from?"

  Frank: "Sandhurst Royal Military Academy, you don't want to go there."

  Rita: "Military academy is also fine, if I want to join the Committee."

  Frank: "Their training is unbearable for you. It's better to focus on normal subjects honestly."

  Rita: "Hey, I'm not afraid of hardship at all !"

  Frank: "It's not a matter of being afraid of hardship. Their long and intense training will slowly erode your will, erase your humanity, and ultimately turn you into a killing machine. That's what they want, and if you can't reach their standards, they will kick you out. Trust me, girl, you'll die in there. You need to have some self-awareness."

  Rita: "So how did you get through?"

  Frank: "It took me half a life to get through, but it's not worth mentioning anything about what I went through afterwards for sure."

  Rita: "Hmm, okay."

  Frank: "Sometimes when your dad gives you advice, just take it. He's doing it for your own good."

  Rita: "But at least I have the ability to think independently. Is that how your dad treats you?"

  Frank: "Um... I don't really want to talk about it."

  Rita: "So you're from London, right? How's your family doing?"

  Frank: "I said it! I don't want to talk about it! "

  He suddenly raised his voice, which startled Rita, and Jefferson behind him suddenly turned his head to look at them.

  Frank lowered his head and remained silent, while Rita stared at him blankly. They didn't say a word for a long time, which made Jefferson think they were arguing.

  Jefferson: "What's wrong with you guys?"

  Frank still didn't say a word, while Rita turned around to explain to her father.

  Rita: "It's okay, I asked too many questions just now and he couldn't answer a bit. Sorry, Frank."

  Frank: "I... it's okay."

  Jefferson: "Don't ask him those strange questions, Rita. Leave him alone, he's going to start working later."

  Rita: "Hmm, I'm very sorry."

  Frank: "It's okay, I don't care anymore."

  The two of them sat quietly in their seats to rest, and then coincidentally looked out the window.

  They have entered the airspace of England, the city on the ground is brightly lit, the streets are decorated with lights, and people are still immersed in the joy of celebrating Christmas, even though Christmas has just passed. This feeling is already very ancient for Frank. He can't remember when the last Christmas was and who else was with him at that time.

  Two days later in the evening, in Colchester.

  Frank, fully armed, arrived at the assembly point across from the current area and obeyed Jefferson's orders. Unlike before, this time he wore a bulletproof mask with the characteristics of the committee. The surface material is very soft, but it can withstand the impact of rifle bullets. Although Frank has not actually been hit in the head by a bullet yet.

  He continued to act alone as usual in this operation, and Jefferson's men only provided cover and remote support for him, without directly intervening in his battle. This is a good thing for Frank, as he doesn't need to take care of his teammates to burden himself and doesn't feel guilty about their injuries.

  But when he actually had direct contact with the enemy, he began to feel regretful.

  Frank: "Son of a bitch! Why didn't you tell me they had a MG-42 machine gun?! Where did the World War II veterans come from? "

  Jefferson: "What? "

  Frank: "I'm suppressed! I can't get close to them!"

  Jefferson: "I will immediately send a backup team to support you."

  Frank: No, no, keep an eye on the ship. They're about to drive away."

  The enemy leader ordered his subordinates to engage in a firefight with Frank while running non-stop to the cargo ship filled with explosives, and began commanding it to advance along the Thames towards London.

  Frank finally couldn't take it anymore, carried his rifle on his back, pulled out two sharp fighting axes from his waist, and began to follow the outskirts of the factory, circling behind the MG-42 machine gun.

  At this time, the local law enforcement department heard of a gunfight at the chemical plant and has begun to mobilize police forces to reinforce here. Jefferson immediately disguised his henchmen as civilians and blocked the surrounding traffic arteries with trucks, turning away the police. Then dispatch a boat team to attempt to intercept the cargo ship by waterway.

  At this point, the cargo ship has already started and is gradually departing from the port. Frank jumped onto the cargo ship at the critical moment and then saw boxes filled with explosives beside him, making him sweat profusely. If this accidentally catches fire, one will be sent to heaven by a pile of fireworks. He immediately put away his gun, held only a sharp axe, and began cautiously searching on the cargo ship.

  Quickly, he found the enemy leader in the driver's cab and then found himself surrounded by explosives. The leader was holding a detonation device to detonate the explosives and standing trembling in front of him.

  Leader: "Don't move! Take one more step forward, I'm go on press it down."

  Frank: "You wouldn't dare to press it down, coward. You're not as fearless of death as you think you are."

  Leader: "These British people must pay the price for their crimes."

  Frank: "So you're going to kill those innocent locals and tourists? What's the difference between you and them?"

  Leader: "Sometimes we have to use violence to against violence, so that they will have awe in their hearts. Sometimes, we cannot be lenient towards our enemies."

  Frank: "You're right. So you won't leave in one piece, and I won't let your conspiracy succeed either."

  Leader: "Oh yeah? what can you do?"

  Frank: "This."

  As soon as he finished speaking, he suddenly shook his hand and flew a blade out of his sleeve, accurately hitting the leader's finger placed on the detonator. The next second, the finger was instantly cut off by the blade, and the leader didn't even have time to scream in pain. Immediately afterwards, Frank took a brisk step forward, grabbed the leader's hand and pulled him over, then grabbed his hair, picked up the knife, instantly sealed his throat, and snatched away the explosive device.

  Frank: "This is Ghost Wolf. The enemy has been annihilated and the detonation device has been controlled. I am trying to steer the cargo ship to the open sea."

  Jefferson: "Ghost Wolf, leave that place as soon as possible. The army has been deployed, and SAS is rushing towards your direction.."

  Frank: "What?! Didn't you say they wouldn't come?!."

  Jefferson: "The plan can't keep up with the changes. My people are gradually evacuating. You go quickly, don't expose yourself. Just let those people handle the explosives."

  There are five mixed feelings in my heart. He knew that forcing SAS to board the ship could lead to uncontrollable situations. He took a deep breath and made a decision.

  Frank: Just wait for me on the shore, I can handle it."

  Jefferson: "Ghost wolf! Obey orders!"

  Frank instantly turned off the walkie talkie, unwilling to listen to his nagging anymore.

  The cargo ship slowly adjusted its position and began to move towards the direction of the open sea. At this moment, Frank had already heard the sound of helicopter propellers hovering in his ear, and the SAS team had arrived here, about to have a direct confrontation with him.

  "Sir! We have found a suspicious person in the cockpit and explosives are everywhere on the ship. Please give us instructions."

  "Don't fire, we haven't estimated the extent of the ship explosion yet, which may affect more innocent people. Block the entire sea area and don't let any ships approach it."

  Frank used a stick to lock the rudder of the ship and let it move straight towards the open sea. Then, he took up his weapon and went to the lower level of the ship, where he found the speedboat and operated the switch to place it on the sea surface.

  Soon, he heard the SAS helicopter hovering above him. Immediately get into the speedboat, start the engine, and quickly open the speedboat from inside the cargo ship.

  The helicopter above him immediately caught his attention and turned around to chase after him, while another helicopter in the distance continued to stare at the cargo ship.

  "A suspect is attempting to escape the scene and has not been seen carrying any explosives. Requesting instructions."

  "Received, approved to fire! Kill him!"

  After receiving the order, the soldiers on the helicopter immediately turned on the gun safety and fired at the people on board as the helicopter approached their speedboat.

  Frank: "Son of a bitch!"

  He cursed while piloting a speedboat, deftly dodging bullet attacks and beginning to maneuver around the helicopter. But the sea was so wide that he had nowhere to hide. He was accidentally hit by the opponent's bullet, but he still didn't release the accelerator.

  Soon, he came up with a plan. At a certain distance from the cargo ship, he suddenly changed direction and headed towards the cargo ship again. The helicopter also turned around with him, still shooting without stopping. After driving a certain distance, Frank pressed the detonator in his hand.

  With a loud bang, the cargo ship was instantly engulfed by a fireball. A small mushroom cloud rises straight into the sky. The helicopter hovering in the sky near the cargo ship was instantly affected by the shock wave generated by the explosion, and began to lose control and sway in the sky, almost falling to the ground. Following Frank's helicopter and Frank himself, they were also affected. Frank's speedboat overturned directly due to the shock wave, and he disappeared from the sea in an instant. The pilot of the helicopter above was working hard to prevent it from losing control and falling, but his actions left some soldiers on board unable to react and fell into the sea.

  A few minutes later, SAS began sending people to the sea to search for the fallen team members and track down the whereabouts of the suspect. They spent the whole night salvaging, but no one found his trace. I can only watch the wreckage of the cargo ship wrapped in raging flames, illuminating the night sky over the entire Colchester Sea.