"You want me to investigate the events behind the Chinese ambassador's assassination and clean up your department's image?" Dante felt like mocking the requests the CIA was making.
These weren't requests—they were orders that they expected to be fulfilled.
Getting involved in this conflict was a guaranteed sentence to a series of unfortunate problems.
"What do you think about this, Susie?" Dante was on a secure call with his future wife, the woman who advised him on what was best for the family's future.
Still grieving her father's death, Susie thought coldly and said, "Since the director asked you personally, his hands are tied in this situation. If we use that to our advantage, the destruction you cause in London—so long as you don't harm innocent people—will be justified."
Using this as a reason to wreak havoc in London was a good idea—at least the CIA wouldn't come after him in his own country.
That was one of the best things that could have happened to him.
"Did you see what happened to those involved? I'm going after every one of them, Susie. Rest assured—we will find them," said Dante, taking a drink of alcohol.
When the call ended, he looked up ahead at dozens of corpses—members of the Clark family—one of his many targets.
"Where are the others?" asked a man standing next to one of the still-breathing bodies.
"Who?"
"Your nephew. We'll go after him first, and then after everyone involved in the Chinese ambassador's assassination." Dante needed to eliminate any potential problem that could change the course of things.
First, he would kill everyone involved and take the only remaining evidence. That would help the CIA explain to the Chinese what had really happened to their ambassador.
As for the outcome of all that, it wasn't something Dante needed to worry about.
"The Chinese girl—the ambassador's daughter—is missing. Where is she? If you give us what we want, we won't go looking for her in your nightclubs."
Dante stood up, stepping in the blood on the floor, realizing things weren't going to improve, and said, "The nephew—that useless Clark knows everything that happened. He's even involved in the deaths of that banker, that journalist, and the undercover CIA agent."
"Sir, we know little about the Black Doves organization. It could be a problem if any of them get involved," said Cocodrilo, referring to the sleeper agent network that provided information to their handlers.
"We could pay them…"
"That's a bad idea."
"Yeah, if they're working with the Clarks, they'll sell us out."
"Silence. I need to think." Dante brought his hands to his head, thinking coldly.
The Black Doves were a private espionage and covert operations agency based in London that operated outside the bounds of any government.
They had no national loyalty: they offered espionage services to the highest bidder, selling industrial, political, or diplomatic secrets to whoever paid the most.
Dante knew little about them—only what he had managed to uncover through his own investigations.
Ms. Reed oversaw operations in London. She was the primary contact and a high-ranking woman in charge of managing contracts and evaluating missions.
Reed controlled access and supply within the organization, likely receiving hefty commissions.
Her operatives acted with a mercenary mindset, loyal to no nation or ideology. Their goal was profit maximization by offering confidential information or protection contracts.
In the end, Dante shook his head and said, "We'll have to resort to contract killers. Let them handle removing the filth in our way."
"The Continental?"
"Yes. Post an anonymous contract—one million dollars for each key member of the Clarks." Dante had made his decision, hoping this would be a turning point for his cause.