PCJ – Chapter 692 Clash of the Giants

Harding and Chadlow’s car was just about to enter the American consulate when, suddenly, the cargo door of the truck in front of them swung open and a ramp unfolded.

Before Harding and Chadlow could figure out what was happening, they felt a violent jolt — their car had been struck hard. Then, to their horror, Harding realized that the car was no longer responding to his controls. Even worse, their vehicle was being steadily pulled into the back of the truck ahead of them.

“Kidnapping!” The word instantly popped into Chadlow’s mind.

“Call for help!” Harding shouted.

“If I were the one planning this, I would’ve blocked all signals beforehand,” Chadlow said grimly.

“Damn it!” Chadlow pulled out his phone — sure enough, there was no signal. His phone was a specially encrypted device that used satellite signals, different from normal networks, and it was supposed to function even when standard communications failed. But now, it was nothing more than a useless brick.

Chadlow tried to open the car door and escape. For a split second, before his hand even reached the handle, he thought about how he would carry out such a kidnapping. Since the door opened from the inside, sealing it from outside would be tricky. But soon, he discovered that the door wouldn’t open at all. The electric windows didn’t work either — the car’s entire system was dead. They had no idea how their enemies had managed this.

From the panic in Harding and the others’ eyes, Chadlow could tell they had come to the same realization. They’d been completely trapped.

The complete dismantling of this spy network didn’t surprise Mortimer. In fact, he had expected it. Their actions had deviated too far from standard espionage protocol — all to pave the way for the special ability users. Harding’s team had been too active lately. If they hadn’t been discovered by now, it would mean China’s intelligence system was asleep at the wheel.

But Mortimer also knew that exposing this network wouldn’t make the special ability users’ mission any easier. On the contrary, danger seemed to be drawing nearer — which is why Mortimer still hadn’t made a final decision. The stakes were high. Whatever he chose would determine the future of the U.S.’s most secretive and powerful assets. But there were too many unknowns, too many risks. The greater the potential reward, the greater the possible cost.

In the end, Mortimer decided to pass the decision to the President. He rushed to the President’s residence.

“One of our intelligence networks in China has been completely dismantled. Not a single agent escaped,” Mortimer reported, without stating his main request directly.

“Then that’s your problem to deal with. Not something worth waking me up in the middle of the night,” President Bush replied irritably.

“I have something more important. Before they were exposed, the spy network sent back key intel. We discovered a hidden spatial passage — a secret space. We believe it contains everything we’ve been searching for. Dr. Mei Qing from China has been frequently appearing there during her cancer drug research. We suspect this secret realm is her hidden research facility,” Mortimer continued.

“You’re saying you’ve found the place where Dr. Mei Qing is developing her anti-cancer drugs?” the President asked, now clearly interested. “Then your next step should be planning an operation, not bothering me.”

“But what if it’s a trap? If we act rashly, the losses will be catastrophic. If we lose our special ability users, it would be a blow we can’t afford,” Mortimer warned.

“If the benefits are great enough, someone else will be willing to bear the losses we can’t,” the President replied coldly.

Mortimer immediately understood what the President meant — the major financial conglomerates. These powerful entities, richer than many nations, essentially controlled the fate of the country. In truth, they were the ones pulling the strings behind the scenes.

“Leak the intel,” the President said with a sneer. “They’ll come to us on their own.”

Mortimer nodded. “I’ll get on it right away.”

Training a single special ability user required a massive investment of time, resources, and capital. Only the financial giants could afford to absorb such losses. Mortimer decided to wait — once the conglomerates took the bait, he’d adjust his plans accordingly.

Sure enough, the conglomerates didn’t disappoint. Just as Mortimer was settling in for a nap that morning, one phone call after another blew away any hope of sleep. Like sharks smelling blood, they pounced on the leaked intel.

They were deeply interested in the operation — not just because of the potential profits, but also because of the personal stakes involved. The new drug Mei Qing was researching could mean the difference between life and death for some of them.

Among them, Parisi, the head of the Rockefeller Consortium, was the most enthusiastic — rumored to be suffering from a terminal illness, his interest was deeply personal. For Mortimer, Parisi’s condition was irrelevant. What mattered was that Parisi was willing to pour money into the operation and take on all the risk.

“Our consortium is willing to fund the entire operation, but we must receive the majority of the returns. High investment demands high reward — it’s the only way to keep our partners satisfied,” Parisi said as he puffed on a cigar. The cigar smoke, in reality, was just a veil to hide his nervousness. Parisi was terrified of dying. He had controlled the fates of countless people during his life — but not his own. All the wealth in the world couldn’t stop his illness. His elite medical team included the top experts from around the globe, but none could cure him. Their prognosis: without improvement, Parisi would be dead within one to two years.

The Morgan Consortium, led by Mitchell, wasn’t about to let the Rockefellers monopolize this opportunity. In recent years, Morgan had invested just as heavily in the pharmaceutical sector.

“Money has never been a problem. The Morgan Consortium is willing to pay several times more — as long as we can acquire everything related to the anti-cancer drug. No one is more sincere than we are,” Mitchell declared to Mortimer.

And just like that, one financial titan after another came knocking at Mortimer’s door, each voicing their eagerness. Mortimer’s dilemma now shifted: how to balance the interests of these powerful entities? It was no simple task — any one of them could destroy his career and replace him with someone more obedient.

Mortimer knew the outcome of the Xiyun Reservoir operation was crucial. If it succeeded, he’d have the leverage to manage these “vampires” — perhaps even extract some blood from them himself.

“Then let’s proceed with the operation,” Mortimer finally decided.