William had just taken a shower and changed his clothes, sitting on the sofa for less than ten minutes when the doorbell rang.
When he opened the door, William saw the hotel manager accompanied by a few policemen with their hands on their gun holsters. The lead officer stepped forward and spoke in a friendly tone, "Mr. William Devonshire?"
"Yes," William nodded in response.
The officer presented his badge and said, "Mr. Devonshire, we are from the Black Mountain Police Department. My name is Del Toro, and here is my identification."
It was clear that these officers had already spoken with the hotel's security and had a general understanding of the situation. Thus, they were courteous and did not immediately draw their guns on William.
William took the officer's badge, examined it, and handed it back, saying, "I need to wait for my lawyer and the representatives from the British consulate. Gentlemen, you should know from the hotel security that I am not a criminal but a victim here. I will only agree to be questioned in the presence of my lawyer and the consulate staff. Meanwhile, perhaps you could come in and have a drink while we wait?"
The lead officer, Del Toro, pondered for a moment. He had indeed inquired downstairs with the hotel security and knew that there were no casualties among the hotel guests, thanks to William. Hence, he nodded and said, "Alright, Mr. Devonshire, we can wait for the consulate officials."
William politely invited the officers inside. As soon as they entered, they noticed a Glock 17 and its magazine holster on the table, which made them immediately tense up.
William instructed the hotel manager, "Please get drinks for the officers. Thank you."
"Yes, Mr. Devonshire," the hotel manager quickly moved towards the room's bar to pour drinks, asking each officer what they would like.
Seeing the officers' unease at the sight of the gun on the table, with two of them placing their hands on their own holsters, William quickly said, "Relax, gentlemen, the gun isn't loaded."
Del Toro stepped forward, intending to inspect the Glock 17. William promptly advised, "Officer Del Toro, I think it would be best if you put on gloves before touching it."
"Thank you, Mr. Devonshire," Del Toro nodded appreciatively. Despite his calm appearance, Del Toro was deeply nervous. The scenes on the street and inside the hotel had terrified him. Corpses littered the street, with twelve more inside the hotel, all with single bullet wounds to the head. There were also six bodies against the side wall of the hotel, similarly dispatched. The rest had been taken down with precise M4A1 shots.
In his many years as a police officer, Del Toro had never encountered so many bodies at once. According to the hotel's security, all these men were killed by the calm and polite young man standing before him.
Del Toro swore on his beautiful wife that if not for the insistence of his police chief, he would never have come to question William. Just being in the same room as this 'killer' made him feel as if his heart might stop any second.
Del Toro's sense of unease heightened when his radio crackled to life with an urgent report from his team. "Chief, chief, do you copy?"
"This is Del Toro, over," he responded.
"Chief, we think we need to notify the Foreign Affairs and Special Operations units. We've found documents and passports on some of the bodies indicating they were illegal Albanian mercenaries. And chief, we need more support. There are too many dead, and we can't handle it all."
Del Toro, astonished, asked, "We have a team of eight. Wasn't the firefight over? How many are dead?"
"We have confirmed forty deaths, chief. Two guys across the street are alive but only just, both hit multiple times and unconscious. Chief, we need backup. We're overwhelmed, and two of our rookies are already throwing up."
Del Toro was drenched in sweat. He had initially assumed there were around twenty bodies but now learned it was over forty, and all heavily armed mercenaries. Yet, all were dead, killed by the composed young man before him. It felt surreal, like an April Fool's joke, or a dream.
"Chief, are you still there?" the voice from the radio pulled Del Toro back.
Wiping his forehead, Del Toro responded, "I understand. Hunter, call in all available personnel. We need everyone, even those on leave. Yes, Hunter, you're right. We need backup."
After switching off the radio, Del Toro glanced at the Glock 17 on the table and cautiously asked William, "Mr. Devonshire, may I ask where your other firearms are?"
"I'll answer once the consulate representatives arrive. Until then, I won't answer any questions. Moreover, I suggest you leave this matter alone. Others will handle it," William replied, sipping his whiskey.
Del Toro felt powerless. He couldn't afford to offend this formidable man in front of him. They had no choice but to wait. Even if they took William to the station, they would still have to wait for the consulate's representatives.
After 15 minutes, the consulate staff and William's lawyer arrived. After exchanging pleasantries, the consulate official said to William, "Mr. Devonshire, you can come with us to the consulate for some rest. Leave everything else to us. We've received instructions from London to ensure your safety is our top priority."
Hearing that William was to be taken to the consulate, Del Toro hurriedly interjected, "He can't leave just yet. We still need to ask Mr. Devonshire some questions."
The consulate's lawyer stepped forward and firmly said to Del Toro, "Officer, you can direct your questions to me. Mr. William Devonshire has the full support of the British government. You have no authority to detain him. If you have any concerns, you can take them up with your Foreign Affairs office. This matter is beyond your jurisdiction now, officer."
Understanding that the situation was out of his control, Del Toro, feeling both helpless and somewhat relieved, said, "Alright, even if I can't detain Mr. Devonshire, I must insist that he turn over any weapons he used today. This is standard procedure. Mr. Devonshire has no permit to carry weapons in Black Mountain, and I believe it would be best if he relinquished them. Don't you agree?"
Del Toro was desperate to see William disarmed. He wished he could send William out of Black Mountain and never see him again.
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