Free Web NovelThere was no major difficulty in transporting the artworks out of Iraq.
Although the U.S. military inspected all cargo leaving the country, shipments connected to Black Bear were treated as exceptions.
I left Iraq on a private jet and arrived safely in London, UK.
“Mr. Kim Muhyuk?”
After completing immigration procedures, someone was waiting for us.
I heard a slightly awkward but clearly pronounced voice calling my name.
“I’m Kim Muhyuk. And you are?”
The man who had called me looked neatly dressed—every inch the image of a proper British gentleman.
He handed me his business card and extended his hand.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Jack Hill, Director of the British Security Service. It’s an honor to meet someone so well-known.”
I shook his hand lightly and checked the card he gave me.
Printed on the clean black card were his name and the title Director, British Security Service.
“You can call me Charlie. And why would the head of MI5 be looking for me?”
If MI6 handled foreign intelligence, MI5 was responsible for domestic intelligence.
In American terms, their relationship was similar to that of the CIA and the FBI.
So why would the director of an intelligence agency be waiting for me...?
Ah. The London terror attack.
Some time ago, while dealing with Jessica, I had passed along information that after Spain, a terrorist attack would occur in the UK.
That alone was reason enough for the director of MI5—responsible for counterterrorism and counterintelligence within the UK—to come looking for me.
Naturally, he’d be curious how an ordinary businessman like me knew such information.
But I already had countermeasures in place. I knew when, where, and who would carry out the attack, but I didn’t know how they made contact with al-Qaeda. So I had Black Bear monitoring them.
I wasn’t foolish enough to single out suspects with no physical evidence, based solely on foreknowledge of the future.
“Thank you, Charlie. Would you have some time to talk?”
I checked my watch and nodded. I still had a bit of leeway before my next appointment.
“I can spare about an hour. I do have another engagement, so I can’t stay much longer.”
“An hour... Very well. Please follow me.”
I followed Director Jack.
He led me to a small office tucked away in one corner of the airport.
Inside, there was nothing but a desk and several chairs.
“If we had more time, I’d like to host you somewhere more suitable for conversation, but since time is short, I’m afraid this will have to do.”
He’s good with pleasantries. I sat down, wearing an easy smile.
“The location doesn’t matter. What matters is the conversation.”
“Indeed. Content matters more than location. Then, since time is limited, let’s get straight to the point.”
“Please. I’m listening.”
“I’ve heard that you passed information to American intelligence stating that al-Qaeda would carry out an attack in the UK after Spain. Is that true?”
Just as I expected, he went straight to the terrorism issue.
“That’s correct. We don’t yet know the exact timing or the identities of the perpetrators. But according to the information we obtained, the target being the UK is certain.”
“Certain? You’re saying al-Qaeda will attack the United Kingdom?”
“The UK is America’s most important ally. So targeting Britain isn’t strange at all. From the war in Afghanistan to the war in Iraq, the UK played a leading role alongside the US.”
The reason Spain had been attacked was also because it had deployed troops to the Iraq War.
So it wasn’t unreasonable to think Britain—an ally that had sent troops to Afghanistan and Iraq—would be targeted next.
“Because of Britain’s colonial policies in the 20th century, a considerable number of Arabs live in the UK. Wouldn’t it be stranger if none of them sympathized with al-Qaeda? If I were al-Qaeda, I wouldn’t look outside—I’d use people already inside the country.”
There was another reason I remembered the UK attack so clearly.
It happened the day after London was selected as the Olympic host city.
It poured cold water over a nation swept up in celebration.
On top of that, the G8 summit was being held in the UK at the time, so a terrorist attack in the heart of London was enough to shock the entire world.
“So... you’re saying they’d use people already residing in the UK.”
“That’s as far as we’ve confirmed. As I said earlier, we haven’t identified the exact date or the terrorists themselves yet. But we are certain an attack will happen. Using this information to prevent it is not my job—it’s the British government’s.”
“You’re right. Immigration will be the problem, then.”
Not as much as the US, but the UK was also a country with many immigrants.
Monitoring them all would be administratively and politically problematic.
That was without even considering manpower shortages.
Which was why I was confident British intelligence wouldn’t be able to pinpoint the suspects.
“Charlie. If you obtain more precise information, would you be willing to pass it to us? Not to the Americans—to us.”
“Hm...”
I swallowed and deliberately let the silence stretch.
“It’s true that the US and the UK are allies. But receiving such critical intelligence from the US would ultimately mean owing them a political debt.”
Jack continued in a desperate tone, clearly trying to persuade me.
Meeting his gaze, I curled one corner of my mouth into a smile.
“Well. I made a deal with the US, and in return, I gave them information. What comes of that isn’t my concern.”
“But—”
Jack urgently parted his lips. I raised a hand to stop him and continued.
“If you want information from me, then Britain needs to offer something as well. When one side gives something, the other must pay a price. As you know, I’m a businessman. I don’t do anything without compensation. The real question is what Britain can offer me.”
Give and take. I fundamentally adhered to the principle of transactions.
A relationship where only one side gives never lasts.
When kindness continues, it gets mistaken for entitlement. The receiving side keeps demanding more, and the giving side eventually grows weary.
“A transaction... Is there really anything Britain can offer?”
“Well, that’s not for me to figure out—it’s for you, Director Jack. If I like what’s on offer, we deal. If not, I refuse.”
Information superiority was my greatest weapon, and I had no intention of selling it cheap.
It allowed me to play tug-of-war with the US and build a friendly relationship with the Russian Tsar.
“If I find your offer satisfactory, I’ll consider informing Britain first—before passing it to the US.”
I checked my watch again.
“I think it’s about time I get going. Next time you come to see me, bring something with you.”
“Charlie. If there’s something you want, name it.”
“Something I want... What could I possibly lack? Ah, shall I play the patriot for a moment? Would you sell me the Silla gold earrings held by the British Museum?”
“What? That’s absurd—”
Jack recoiled in shock. And I knew perfectly well how absurd my demand was.
“You see? That’s exactly my point. What you’re asking me right now is just as absurd. You’re the director of an intelligence agency, yet you don’t even know what I want—and you talk about making a deal?”
“......”
I stood up without hesitation and delivered my notice.
“The hour we agreed on is up. Bring me what I want. Then I’ll give you the information.”
“Charlie, countless British lives are at stake—”
Jack urgently appealed to me, invoking the lives of British citizens.
And what did that have to do with me? I deliberately lifted one corner of my mouth.
“Is Britain a country that shares everything whenever the lives of foreign citizens ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) are at stake? Don’t you also move only when it’s politically advantageous? And judging by your work in intelligence, it seems you don’t know much about me. I’m not someone who moves on emotion—I’m a businessman who pursues compensation. Emotional appeals mean nothing to me.”
“......”
“If you don’t want to owe the US a political debt, then deal with me. Besides, the British intelligence services have a history of being rude to me.”
I had a particular reason for not trusting British intelligence—there had been clashes in the past.
Considering that, even meeting like this now was a significant concession.
At my cold rebuke, Jack’s face stiffened. No one had likely spoken to him like this to his face before.
“Simply taking British lives hostage won’t get you anything from me. In the first place, if I hadn’t given the information to the US, would Britain have known about the attack at all?”
In the original timeline, Britain hadn’t detected a single sign of the attack right up until the day it happened.
“I hope our next meeting will be more constructive. Until then.”
I left Jack behind and exited the airport.
Outside, rain was pouring down in sheets.
“Isn’t it funny, Manager?” I said. “Back when we worked in the UK, they pressured us relentlessly. And now they’re asking me to give them information before the US. Do they have no shame, or do they think I’m a fool...?”
Manager Ma opened an umbrella and held it over my head as he replied,
“If a terrorist attack happens, his position could be at risk. He talks about citizens’ lives, but people like that don’t really care about others’ lives. He probably thought he could confidently pin you down and make you hand over the perpetrators. Back when I was working as a mercenary, I often had to clean up messes caused by Britain. The US wasn’t much different.”
There was that old joke in world history—when something strange happens, if you point to Britain, you’re usually not far off.
It seemed Manager Ma had grown thoroughly sick of British behavior during his mercenary days. Hearing rare emotion in his voice, I chuckled softly.
“True. The US and the UK—they’re the same breed. Anyway, I wonder if we’ll make it on time.”
I got into the car after Manager Ma opened the door, checking my watch once more.
Contrary to my worries, we arrived at the meeting place exactly on time. freeweɓnovel.cøm
“Charlie. It’s been a while.”
“Chairman Murdoch. Long time no see.”
The person I was meeting today was Murdoch. I greeted him with a handshake.
“I hear news about you all the time, Chairman Murdoch.”
“And I hear stories about you as well, Charlie. You’ve been living quite a busy life.”
We exchanged warm pleasantries and entered the mansion together.
Murdoch’s gaze lingered with interest on the item Manager Ma was holding—wrapped in cloth.
“What’s that? Looks like a framed piece...”
“I’ll show you later.”
Despite my answer, his curiosity was clearly piqued. He kept glancing at it as he led us into the reception room.
Food had already been prepared.
“Serving British food wouldn’t be proper hospitality for you, Charlie, so I had French cuisine prepared instead.”
“Seems you don’t like British food much yourself, Chairman.”
“Haha! How could anyone like it?”
Murdoch laughed heartily and took his seat, gesturing for me to sit across from him.
“Please, both of you, have a seat. I took special care and even invited a renowned chef.”
Manager Ma and I sat down.
Murdoch then filled the glasses with wine and slid them toward us.
“This wine was also prepared especially for you, Charlie.”
With a satisfied smile, Murdoch went on at length about what kind of wine it was. A talkative man, as always.
As I listened, I took in its aroma.
“As you said, the bouquet is excellent.”
“I’m glad. I agonized quite a bit choosing it.”
The meal with wine was quite pleasant.
During dinner, we talked about how his business had been progressing and what I’d been up to.
Even in the age of the internet, his influence over his media empire remained solid.
After finishing the long meal, I complimented him again.
“Thanks to you, I enjoyed a very satisfying meal.”
“I’m glad you liked it.” frёewebnoѵēl.com
Once dinner ended, he summoned the servants and had the table cleared.
In no time, everything was tidied away, and the butler brought out green tea for dessert.
“Butler, don’t let anyone else in now.”
“Yes, Chairman.”
The butler bowed and left, firmly closing the reception room doors behind him.
In the spacious room, only Murdoch, Manager Ma, and I remained.
“Manager.”
Manager Ma placed the framed item on the table and removed the tightly wrapped cloth.
“Murdoch, can you tell what this is?”
Murdoch was well-versed in art.
At my question, he stood up with a puzzled expression—then his eyes widened.
“Charlie. Where on earth did you get this?”
As expected, he recognized the painting instantly.
