In the outskirts of Paris, at Charles de Gaulle Airport, Adam had taken off from Long Stay Car Park in his Toyota Land Cruiser Prado Offroad Premium, heading towards Normandy at the speed of a storm. However, that was a few hours ago.
Now, he arrived in the darkness of the night, amidst the hustle and bustle. France was experiencing a heatwave. Millions of stars twinkled in the sky, painting it with various colors. Adam reached the bustling upper floor of the agency's old house. Downstairs, the windows were glowing with yellow light. Adam didn't delay understanding; Ramin Reza and Johnny Walker were waiting in the kitchen, expecting him to return to have dinner together.
As soon as they had some leisure time, they gathered there. Johnny Walker sat face to face with Ramin Reza, handing him a bottle of wine after another. Before his death, his mother had forbidden Ramin from drinking alcohol. However, if it was necessary for an urgent assignment, that was another story.
Adam entered the house from the car and was greeted by Johnny Walker's voice from the kitchen: "Adam, have you arrived? I've finally got my pilot's license!"
"Very good! I'm heading downstairs," said Adam, not going towards the kitchen but towards the staircase. His mind feels unsettled. He can understand, Jessica is in great danger because of him.
Brother, how was your time?" Ramin wanted to know, stopping by the kitchen door. "Wash your face and hands. Dinner is ready."
Adam turned from the staircase and looked at them. "I'm not hungry, Ramin. You guys eat. I'll take a shower."
Wakar stood by Ramin's side. He used to be a British Navy officer before. Later, he became a seasoned detective. It's very difficult to hide anything from him. Seeing Adam's face, it seems like suspicion has arisen in his mind. Lowering his voice, he said, "Are you okay, Adam?"
"I'm fine," Adam wanted to say in a calm voice.
"I don't feel the same," Wakar said in a firm tone.
"I'm just wrapped up with something, nothing else," Adam said as he entered his small apartment on the lower floor. Passing through the dining space, he entered the bedroom and placed his bag on the bed. Taking out fresh clothes from the wardrobe, he headed to the bathroom. After changing, he stood under the shower to let the icy-cold water soak him. He wanted to clear his mind of all worries, but it brought him no relief. He understands from Alexander Lionel's words that first, they need to find Wilbur Fox in London. And there's no room for delay in this task.
After finishing in the shower, Adam entered the bedroom feeling composed. Without delaying any further, he picked up the landline receiver from the bedside table and dialed the number of Major General (Retd.) Rahat Khan at the ISI office.
After a brief pause following a click, a deep voice came from the other end, "Hello?"
"Sir, this is Adam," Adam said in a dry voice.
There was silence for a moment, then the CIA Chief said, "Surely, you've called for an urgent reason?"
"Yes, sir."
"Speak."
Adam took a deep breath. "I need some days off, sir."
A few moments later came the question, "For how many days?"
"I don't know yet. But it doesn't seem like it'll take more than a dozen days," Adam replied.
"Alright. I'll inform Sohel to grant you leave," the CIA Chief said.
"Yes, sir."
"If there's a major crisis, don't hesitate to inform us without delay."
"Yes."
"Be vigilant. Call me if needed." The call from the CIA Chief ended.
Putting the receiver back in its cradle, Adam quickly packed his travel bag anew. There's a small security safe embedded in the wall beside the bed. He has to return it again, or else head to London. Adam opened the safe. Inside, there are two pistols, loaded with magazines, two burner phones, twenty thousand Euros, and three fake passports inside a Manila envelope.
Adam tossed three passports made by the Special Effects Division of Shuvapur Counter Intelligence onto the bed from the envelope. The first passport bore the name Gunther Fisbauom. The second one had the name Dave Crockett. The third one belonged to Jacko Jennings. These passports had been used multiple times. Anyone seeing the visa stamps would understand that this person travels around the world. Jacko Jennings' passport had expired. The other two could be used easily. Adam packed his own passport and Jennings' passport in his carry-on bag, leaving them next to the suitcase.
The mobile phone is being tracked, so it won't be useful anymore. After informing his dear friend Sohel, Adam would be able to reach the CIA Chief on any mobile phone. Alongside the invalid passports, Adam left the mobile phones. He took the burner phones from the safe. These were bought under different names with cash. No one would find the owner even if they searched. Only Sohel, Johnny Walker, and Ramin Reza knew the numbers of these two mobile phones. However, even if they were bombed, nothing would come out of their bellies.
Now Adam turned his mind towards firearms. The first one was a Nine MM PX4 Storm Compact Carry. He took two boxes of bullets for it. The other one was his favorite .38 Walther PPK. He aimed with precision. Holding the two pistols in his hands, Adam hesitated. The problem was sneaking pistols onto a commercial airplane. Once he reached his destination, he could surely acquire weapons. However, those pistols might not be preferred. Skilled fighters like Wilbur Fox. Searching for him with empty hands would be utter foolishness.
After a few moments of contemplation, Adam decided he would drive to London. He would keep the pistols hidden inside the car. Once the decision was made, he stuffed the two firearms and three spare magazines into the pockets of his cargo pants.
Now, onto the financial matters. Heading to find Wilbur Fox, Adam wasn't sure how much money he would need. He kept thirteen thousand Euros in his bag. Another seven thousand Euros were in his wallet. When he went to put banknotes in his wallet, he found a torn picture lying in his bed. Adam picked it up. It was a photo from a January day. Jessica and the snowy mountains behind her. Right beside it, there was a lock and a diary. Jessica had taken a selfie. Adam had emailed the picture to himself when he returned to Norway. He had printed a 4x6 size picture using the office printer. Since then, it had been in his wallet.
Seeing Jessica's sweet smile, Adam's chest filled with laughter. From the depths of his heart, he realized he had deeply fallen for this troublesome girl. Perhaps, at any moment, he might end up killing her out of frustration. Loving someone as troublesome as her might not let Jessica survive.
For a few moments, Adam stared at his bitter reflection on the wall mirror. He harbored intense hatred towards himself. Turning his head to the right, he viciously slammed his fist into the mirror, shattering the glass with a loud crash. His hand was now bleeding, the photo trapped in his grasp. Adam looked towards the bed, where the photograph lay broken, blood dripping from his hand.
"Control your anger, threaten yourself," Adam scolded himself. To save Jessica, he needed to keep a cool head!
The skin on his knuckles had torn. It burned, accompanied by pain. Adam wiped the blood off his hand on the bed sheet, put on his jacket, slung the bag over his shoulder, and left the flat as quickly as possible. He had to return to London as soon as possible.