Candidates
A week later, deep within the "Eagle's Nest," in the absolutely secure command center, the atmosphere was so tense it seemed like water could be squeezed out of it. On the holographic projection, a detailed 3D map of St. Moritz, Switzerland, slowly rotated, especially highlighting the magnificent Benedictine monastery built against the mountainside and the adjacent, strikingly modern "St. Michael's Foundation" building, which were marked in glaring red, like key pieces on a chessboard.
Price stood in front of the projector, his posture as upright as a pine tree. His cold, hard gaze swept over every core member present—Keegan, Elaine, Hesh, Logan, as well as Ghost, who stood like a shadow in the corner, and Konig, who had been following him around ever since recovering from his injuries.
“Gentlemen and ladies,” Price’s voice broke the silence, each word like an icicle hitting the alloy floor: “St. Moritz is not a war zone where we can use firepower at will. It is a glamorous showcase of European wealth and power, outwardly impressive but inwardly riddled with the most sensitive pressure sensors. The presence of an armed squad there would be like throwing a shark into Swan Lake, serving no purpose other than to trigger panic and widespread repression.”
His gaze was piercing: "The core of this operation is infiltration, reconnaissance, and silently obtaining irrefutable evidence. What we need are 'high society individuals' who can perfectly blend into that environment, 'artists' who can quietly pry open secret safes, not soldiers charging into battle." His gaze finally settled on Keegan and Elaine, his tone leaving no room for doubt, carrying the final decisiveness: "Keegan, you will lead the micro-infiltration. Elaine, you are the technical core, indispensable. Your mission is to uncover the true nature of the 'St. Michael's Foundation' and its possible connections to the monastery's underground."
He looked specifically at Keegan, with a knowing look, and even a barely perceptible hint of knowing without saying it:
"And it seems that this task is perfect for you."
After Price finished speaking, a brief and extremely subtle silence fell over the command room, followed by varying reactions from the crowd:
Hesh's reaction was the most direct. He was stunned for a moment, then his lips couldn't help but turn upwards. He quickly clenched his fist to his mouth, pretended to cough, and covered up the "I knew it" smile. His eyes quickly swept between Keegan and Elaine.
Logan raised his eyebrows slightly, his face expressionless, but a hint of amusement flashed in his calm yet shrewd eyes, and he nodded very slightly.
Ghost's face beneath the skull mask remained expressionless, but his crossed arms seemed more relaxed. His only visible eyes darted sharply between Price, Keegan, and Elaine before returning to calm, as if everything was expected.
Only Konig was clearly out of sync with this subtle rhythm. His masked head tilted slightly to Ghost's side, revealing light-colored eyes filled with pure bewilderment and confusion.
Elaine's cheeks flushed slightly at the sudden, suggestive appointment and the subtle glances from the crowd. She subconsciously lowered her eyes, focusing on the armrests of her wheelchair, but her ears turned red uncontrollably.
Keegan's face remained expressionless, as if Price was merely stating an objective fact. He calmly met Price's gaze and replied succinctly and forcefully, "Understood." His tone was exceptionally frank and self-assured.
Under the operation of the Ghost Squad's top-notch logistics team, the identities, backgrounds, habits, and even the slightest traces on social media of "Dr. Alexander Rossi" (a young wealthy scholar who inherited his family fortune and is obsessed with the study of medieval history and documents in the Alps) and "Madame Sofia Rossi" (his equally knowledgeable wife who injured her leg in an accident during a field expedition) were all meticulously crafted.
On the eve of his departure, Keegan visited Elaine in her room. Her cast had been removed, and she was undergoing rehabilitation exercises for her left leg under the guidance of a physical therapist. Fine beads of sweat appeared on her forehead from the exertion.
Keegan waited quietly to the side. After the therapist left, he went over and very naturally extended his arm so she could hold him steadily and use his strength to complete the last movement. His movements were fluid and steady, carrying an inherent, powerful instinct to care.
“Starting tomorrow, we will be Alexander and Sofia Rossi,” he said softly, helping her steady herself, his voice low and calm.
“I know.” Elaine looked up into his deep, grey-blue eyes, where she saw concern, unreserved trust, and a reassuring certainty. “I will remember who I am.”
“You don’t need to ‘play’,” Keegan said, looking at her with certainty. “When you’re with outsiders, you are Sofia Rossi, a brilliant expert. Focus on your ‘area,’ and leave the rest to me.”
She took a deep breath and nodded.
Keegan didn't leave immediately. He carefully helped her into the recliner, adjusting the backrest cushions to ensure she would be as comfortable as possible even after sitting for a long time. "Elaine," he spoke again, lowering his voice to make sure only the two of them could hear, "remember the emergency plan. If things feel out of control, don't hesitate, evacuate immediately. I'll be by your side."
Elaine's heart skipped a beat. She met his gaze and saw the unwavering resolve and deep-seated worry surging beneath his calm surface. "Alexander," she said, using her new name, her voice light yet concerned, "you must do the same. Don't strain... your arm."
Keegan's lips softened almost imperceptibly for a moment, her eyes curving slightly—a subtle expression unique to her. He nodded very lightly. "Understood." He said nothing more, only giving her a deep look, as if trying to etch this moment of tranquility into his heart.
Then he turned and walked towards the door, his steps steady, his left arm showing no signs of injury. Just before the door closed, he paused, his back to her, and whispered one last thing: "See you at dawn, Sophia."
The door closed gently. Elaine sat alone in the room, her fingertips unconsciously brushing against the elbow that he had just held so firmly, where the warm and restrained touch seemed to still linger.
The next morning, when Keegan changed into a well-tailored dark suit and put on his refined glasses, he tried to suppress his sharp, murderous aura and revealed a calm and reserved gentlemanly demeanor that was not usually seen on him.
Elaine, dressed in an elegantly tailored ivory turtleneck sweater and plaid long skirt, was already sitting on a soft chair by the window of the ward, serene and intellectual. When she occasionally looked up, her gaze was intelligent and thoughtful. She didn't need to do anything more; this was her true self.
Keegan entered the ward and gazed intently at her, his eyes now filled with undisguised tenderness. He carefully helped her into her wheelchair. As they entered the briefing room together, Hesh couldn't help but let out a soft whistle.
Ghost pushed in a seemingly ordinary suitcase and a gear case. He opened the suitcase, and the items inside, though seemingly commonplace, exuded high-tech precision: a wheelchair specially made for Elaine, with a frame made of ultra-lightweight, high-strength composite materials, and solid honeycomb tires that were puncture-resistant and silent. Hidden within the right armrest were a high-sensitivity directional microphone and a laser eavesdropping probe; the left armrest contained a miniature drone launch port and a potent sedative injection needle for emergencies. The lens of the high-magnification digital microscope was actually a high-definition camera probe connected to a miniature storage device; the multispectral scanner had a built-in special data extraction and encrypted wireless transmission module; even the exquisite ancient book restoration tools concealed miniature environmental sensors and miniature communication repeaters under their velvet padding.
Keegan's watch functions as a vital signs monitor and emergency beacon, with a crown capable of triggering blinding glare; his rimless glasses have built-in bone conduction communicators and thermal imaging capabilities. Elaine's pearl necklace features a large pearl that is an encrypted storage device, and a clasp that is a miniature signal amplifier. Hidden in the luggage compartment are non-metallic ceramic knives, miniature high-performance explosive cords, and two electromagnetic pulse guns disguised as Montblanc pens.
“Remember your new identities,” Ghost’s voice came through the mask, calm and even coldly monotone. “Dr. Rossi, Mrs. Rossi. Your weapons are knowledge, grace, and impeccable manners. Violence is a last resort, meaning the complete failure of the mission. Survive and bring back intelligence.”
After two or three hours of intense preparation and final checks, a low-profile but high-performance black sedan quietly drove away from the exit of the "Eagle's Nest" hidden in the mountainside and merged into the sparse traffic of the Alps in the early morning.
Inside the car, the atmosphere was completely different from the frigid outside. Keegan—now Dr. Alexander Rossi—had changed into well-fitting casual clothes and was intently reviewing the mission documents in his hands. His right hand rested on the center armrest, naturally covering Elaine's hand beside him. His palm was warm and dry, completely enveloping her hand. Occasionally, his thumb would unconsciously and extremely gently caress the skin on the back of her hand, bringing a subtle and reassuring touch.
Elaine—Sofia Rossi—sat quietly beside him, a soft cashmere blanket draped over her lap. Instead of pulling her hand away, she subtly rotated her wrist, letting her fingers gently intertwine with his. Her serene gaze followed the fleeting snow-capped peaks and glaciers, edged gold by the brilliant morning sun, past the window. Though a sense of unease filled her with the unknown tension of the road ahead, the steady warmth and strength emanating from his hand acted as a sturdy barrier, dispelling most of her anxiety. She could even feel Keegan's hand, wrapped around hers, tighten imperceptibly as a silent response when she slightly tightened her grip.
Hesh and Logan followed in another vehicle at a safe distance, providing remote surveillance and support via encrypted channels.
They were no longer the elite Ghost Squad that struck fear into the hearts of their enemies, but a loving, wealthy, and academically dedicated young couple traveling to St. Moritz, a city renowned for its luxury and tranquility. Inside the carriage, the warm stillness contrasted sharply with the magnificent yet chilling scenery outside the window. The subtle gesture of intertwined fingertips spoke volumes.
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