Chapter 204: I Can Negotiate Too
A swarm of fully armed soldiers poured in, guns in hand.
Applause rang out.
Accompanying the applause, a tall, thin man entered. Martin and the others couldn't see his face clearly.
He was also fully armed, but his gear—bulletproof vest, tactical mask, and more—was even more advanced than that of the soldiers.
His equipment even had a sci-fi aesthetic, something usually seen only in movies.
Besides that, the biggest difference between him and the soldiers was that he held no weapon, only something resembling a walkie-talkie.
"If everyone were as wise as Mr. Martin, we would never have tracked you down."
"Allow me to introduce myself. I am from the Inter-Ministerial Intelligence Committee. Though I lack great skill and can only manage a 'Swimming Pool,' the men beside me are the finest operatives of the Swimming Pool Action Division. They are the pride of the French military, the elite of the elite."
"Mr. Director, we surely don't count as spies? Why do we warrant the attention of the DGSE?"
Martin's face was ashen. With things having reached this point, he could figure it out with his toes: Hawke, after learning magic, had forgotten his place. He must have tried to use magic on some politicians or businessmen with power, showing off his abilities to gain influence in the Muggle world, and subsequently attracted the attention of the General Directorate for External Security (DGSE).
Because the DGSE headquarters was located near the Tourelles Swimming Pool in the 20th arrondissement of Paris, it was colloquially known as "The Swimming Pool." And since the DGSE fell under the Inter-Ministerial Intelligence Committee, it was also called the "Seventh Bureau."
"We are merely tools in the hands of the big shots at the Ministry of Defense; we are nothing special," the DGSE Director said, a smile evident in his voice.
Due to the nature of his work, he knew secrets ordinary people didn't, thanks to the bugs he had planted in the President's office.
After all, he was in intelligence.
Caution never hurt. A little extra surveillance ensured everyone's absolute loyalty to France. What if the President committed treason?
He remembered clearly: it was the second day after the current President took office. A conversation came through the secret listening device.
A conversation where the French Minister of Magic congratulated the French President on his inauguration.
That day, there was no sound of doors opening or closing in the room, only the sudden roar of flames expanding. He guessed it might be a fire suddenly blazing in a fireplace. Then, a voice claiming to be the French Minister of Magic appeared. He swore he had never heard that voice among the President's staff or the Cabinet. He had later searched for it but never found a match.
In the audio, after the pleasantries, the roaring flames sounded again. It seemed the visitor left, leaving only the President muttering to himself.
As the head of French intelligence, one rule in the intelligence manual was to trust what you see and analyze. Thus, he was absolutely certain: that visitor was an existence beyond his imagination!
Perhaps supernatural power, perhaps technology beyond the age. In any case, it was something the general public could not know!
Only in the last few days, when he finally caught the tail of this power, did he understand what it truly was.
"Your intelligence activities rival the CIA's, and your counter-intelligence work rivals the FBI's. How can such a crucial post be described as a mere 'tool'?"
Martin gauged the distance between his people and the Portkey (the tire) versus the effective range of the armed soldiers from the DGSE Action Division. realizing that beyond seven steps, guns were faster and more accurate, he could only say, "For you gentlemen to notice us... it's like using a sledgehammer to crack a nut."
He hoped to find a way out through conversation, stalling for time in the hope that the professors teaching tonight would notice a group of students missing.
Martin believed that even being arrested and criticized by the professors, or judged by the Wizengamot, was better than being dragged onto an experimental table for dissection by the DGSE.
After all, that's how it played out in every TV show and movie: the government researches supernatural creatures or alien corpses, causing a catastrophe, and then a hero steps up to save the day.
He didn't want bloodshed, neither for Muggles nor wizards. Peaceful, happy lives were what everyone yearned for. After the ravages of two World Wars, anti-war sentiment was high; people needed to rest and recover.
The Director of the DGSE watched Martin constantly eyeing them and their weapons, and clapped his hands. "Thanks to Mr. Hawke here lacking a brain, otherwise I wouldn't have met you all. But this is a good thing; it allowed me to meet a wise wizard like yourself. I wonder if Mr. Martin has any thoughts on cooperation?"
"Cooperation?" Disbelief was written all over Martin's face. Due to the preconception of the Statute of Secrecy, he believed the Muggle world knew nothing of wizards. For a national security director to talk about cooperation... he could only assume it was a delaying tactic to prevent these wizards from casting incomprehensible magic before taking them down.
He couldn't see the soldiers' faces behind their tactical masks.
But from their white-knuckled grip on their weapons, visible even through gloves, he could tell these soldiers knew they were facing very dangerous people. They were alert, and they were afraid.
The DGSE Director nodded. "Yes, we can cooperate. Just like the President cooperates with others of your kind."
He truly didn't understand the wizarding world. He assumed only the President knew about it because the President had built relationships with wizards before his success, and their magic had been a huge help in his election victory.
Now, with new wizards appearing before him—especially these self-proclaimed "Magi-Metal Wizards" who sounded distinct from the original wizarding community—a desire to serve his country and people rose within him.
I can negotiate too! I can be patriotic too! I can also slave away for the people of France!
He glanced at Hawke with some regret—regret that not all wizards were as brainless as this one.
"Unlike what Mr. Hawke envisioned, we can absolutely join hands. You help me, and I will help you."
Martin turned to look at Hawke, who was cowering at the back of the group against the wall, covered in dust.
Hawke wailed, "I don't know! When I used the magic, I was sure that person was controlled! I don't know what went wrong!"
Used magic to control a Muggle... Martin felt a cerebral hemorrhage coming on. His vision had gone black countless times already today.
How did Hawke think he could do such a thing?! The only magic we can use is what's embedded in the Magi-Alloy wands! And what we learn at school is basically Herbology and Potions!
The Director said to Martin, "Mr. Hawke actually came straight to the Swimming Pool, trying to use magic to control one of my men. I saw it on the surveillance feed, so I ordered that man to play along with Mr. Hawke. I expected Mr. Hawke to believe it, but I never expected this gentleman to have absolutely zero counter-surveillance or anti-fraud ability. He led us right here."
"Listening in from the outside with surveillance equipment for a while, I discovered that you gentlemen have a fundamental rift with the other group of wizards in the magical world. That gives us a basis for cooperation, doesn't it?"
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