Spy-x-War Showdown
Chapter 584 - 592: The Old Driver

Chapter 584: Chapter 592: The Old Driver

Hans had been following the travel group ahead, and of course, he was also paying attention to what was happening behind him.

The weight of a grown man is not light, but Hans found it quite easy to carry, however, he couldn’t keep dragging someone forever; he would eventually be discovered.

Finally, after turning a corner, Hans immediately put the fainting taxi driver on the ground, then he loudly called out in English, "What’s wrong? Sir, what’s wrong with you?"

Hans’ shouts drew the attention of the people ahead, and when the travel group turned back, they saw a man lying on the ground with Hans squatting by his side.

Having drawn the attention of the people in front, Hans pointed at the driver lying on the ground and said, "He just fainted suddenly, I think we should call an ambulance. Does anyone here have medical training?"

While Hans decided to abandon his burden, Anton was still driving and queuing up to move forward, and when it was his turn to take passengers, he stopped right in front of Jethro and Yang Yi.

Jethro said something to Boyata and then immediately opened the back door of the taxi and got into the car.

Knocking the meter down, Anton asked fluently in French, "Where to?"

Jethro took a breath and said, "Just drive ahead for now."

After driving several meters, Jethro said in a deep voice, "To Ferrat Cape."

"Sure, Ferrat Cape. Do you want to see the Azure Coast? If you want to enjoy the scenery, I could take the seafront boulevard, but it’s very crowded right now. If you want to go faster, I can take another route, it’s a bit roundabout but quicker."

Without any hesitation, Jethro answered, "The quickest way and route you have."

"Got it."

Many taxi drivers like to chat with passengers, and this is true all over the world, but there are also drivers who don’t like to talk much. Anton decided to play the role of a silent driver, focusing solely on driving. Only when encountering other drivers who didn’t follow the rules would he fiercely honk the horn a few times before swearing in a more civilized manner.

A taxi driver with road rage but who doesn’t want to curse too harshly in front of a customer, Anton wasn’t just playing the part brilliantly; he was essentially a seasoned Nice cabbie who had been driving for years.

Jethro remained silent in the back seat for the whole trip, occasionally taking out his phone to glance at it.

Whenever Anton took a look in the rearview mirror, he noticed that Jethro always looked deeply preoccupied, a demeanor that hadn’t changed since he got into the car.

The distance from the airport to Ferrat Cape wasn’t short, but Anton was driving fast and still sticking to the rules, familiar with the road conditions as well.

Actually, Anton’s choice was quite risky. Instead of directly driving Jethro, he could have quietly followed him because Jethro might be familiar with Nice. If Jethro knew Nice well and Anton showed unfamiliarity with the routes while driving, he might give himself away.

But Anton had no issues, even though he had never been to Nice before, checking maps before coming to Nice was basic preparation for a surveillance assignment.

The rest was just a basic quality of a potential Black Devil Squad member—being adaptable and having a good grasp of the overall situation.

Having entered Ferrat Cape’s territory, Anton finally said, "We have reached Ferrat Cape, where exactly?"

Jethro looked up, peered out the window, and said gravely, "Just keep following the main road, I’ll tell you when to stop."

Anton had no more questions; he just continued to drive.

They were approaching the southernmost tip of Ferrat Cape, but at a crossroads, Jethro suddenly said, "Stop at the junction."

Anton stopped the car, then looked at the meter and said, "That’ll be one hundred and fifty-five Euros, thank you."

"We’re not there yet, just wait here for a while."

Anton shrugged and replied, "Payment is due upon waiting."

Taxi fares are expensive all over Europe, and France is in the middle in terms of pricing, but taxis are definitely a very costly mode of transportation, and not everyone can afford a fare of over a hundred Euros; fare dodging is uncommon, but not rare, so Anton had to secure his fare.

Showing some impatience, Jethro said, "I’m not getting out!"

After finishing, Jethro rolled down the window.

Anton couldn’t turn his head, but he glanced through the rearview mirror and didn’t spot any suspicious characters. However, after waiting for about two minutes, a man who passed by his car took a quick look inside.

Once a seemingly ordinary man walked past, Jethro said in a deep voice, "Okay, let’s go, this is the right road."

Anton shrugged his shoulders, started the car again, and then said somewhat impatiently, "You could have just told me where to go. I know if I’m on the right path or not."

It was just a complaint, but Anton didn’t say much else.

The car continued forward until they reached the southernmost tip of Cap Ferrat.

When they drove onto a private road leading to a villa, Jethro suddenly said, "Stop here, how much."

"One hundred sixty-two euros, thank you."

Jethro pulled out his wallet, hurriedly counted out one hundred seventy euros, handed it to Anton, and said in a deep voice, "Keep the change."

Jethro walked down the private road, while Anton immediately left after flipping the taxi meter down.

Turning on the taxi light to show it was available and still accepting passengers, Anton drove to a taxi stand and found someone waiting; he then pulled over.

A man in his thirties got in the car, choosing the front passenger seat instead of the one in the back.

Anton didn’t react much, just asked in a deep voice, "Where to?"

"The tennis club."

In France, taking a taxi is quite a luxury, and playing tennis isn’t urgent. Those living in Cap Ferrat would certainly have their own cars, and even if they didn’t want to drive themselves to the sports club, the man getting in wasn’t wearing sportswear nor carrying a racket bag.

Anton asked in a deep voice, "Which tennis club are you talking about?"

"The one nearby."

"I’m not familiar with this area, so I can’t find it if you just say ’the nearby one’. You know the way, right?"

"Yes, keep driving forward."

Anton pressed the meter and started the car.

The passenger in the front seat suddenly asked, "What’s your name?"

It was rare for passengers to ask the taxi driver’s name, but it happened. Anton replied calmly, "Pierre, Pierre Soir."

"How’s your day going?"

"Not bad."

Anton looked uninterested in talking. He responded to his passenger’s questions briefly, neither overly warm nor too cold.

The passenger chattered away to Anton, and finally he left the car, far from any sports club.

Anton continued to behave as a taxi driver should until he was out of Cap Ferrat. It was then that he finally made a phone call while driving.

"Where are you?"

"Not far from you now, but I didn’t enter Cap Ferrat."

Anton sighed and said, "Good thing you didn’t follow. Their security is extremely tight, very, very tight."