Ultimate Firepower
Chapter 310 - 296 Grid Connection

Chapter 310: Chapter 296 Grid Connection

The once vibrant Sky Garden vanished without a trace.

Joelson was isolated in his own sickroom within the Walter Reed Medical Center, not sent to a prison, not subjected to torture, nor transferred to a CIA-own hospital.

Twelve days had passed, his inflamed wounds had healed, the stitches removed, and he could move about out of bed, but still, the only person he could see was his doctor.

He was very anxious.

Joelson had prepared himself for interrogation, fortifying his mind daily, ready to face the use of truth serum.

The truth serum used in the United States wasn’t as overbearing; one could return to normal after its effects wore off, unlike the Russians, whose harsh truth serum turned people into idiots after use.

So, as long as he could withstand the truth serum, he should be clear of any trouble.

Joelson was grateful that Gao Yi hadn’t told him anything.

A little trick well known to frequent interrogators or those often interrogated was that what mattered was not the truth but the outcome.

If Joelson were to be interrogated, the interrogator would be concerned with where the Sky Garden was hiding, not whether Joelson was colluding with the Sky Garden.

If Joelson knew too much, he might let slip some details.

But Joelson truly didn’t know, and questions not asked by the interrogators naturally reduced the risk of exposure.

Note, not eliminated, just reduced.

Joelson himself had no certainty in his heart, but at this point, other than fighting through, he had no other choice.

The sickroom door was knocked; someone pushed it open and entered.

Each visit was a moment of torment; if it was a doctor, it meant he was safe for the time being; if it was a colleague, it spelled trouble.

Joelson was startled – the visitor was his former boss.

"Sir..."

With a gasp, Joelson couldn’t help but sit up.

Crawford, in his fifties, looked like a gang boss—domineering and stylish like one, not much in appearance but very much so in essence, reminiscent of a boss played by Denzel Washington.

Yes, Crawford was black.

Crawford gestured with his hand, preventing Joelson from getting up, looked around, then dragged over a stool and sat by Joelson’s bed.

Both men had a million things to say yet didn’t know where to begin.

"I’m glad to see you made it back alive."

"Me too."

So many emotions made the conversation more casual than usual, but not any lighter—in fact, it felt even heavier.

There was no third person in the room; this could mean everything was fine, but it could also mean both men were finished. Joelson had seen both scenarios many times, but more often the latter.

So, after a moment’s hesitation, Joelson whispered, "Did I get you into trouble?"

"No."

Crawford shook his head softly, "The investigation into you is over. I played a big part in it because I wrote a lengthy report and handed over all the information you had given me to the investigators, letting them understand you were wholeheartedly trying to do something. At least it proved you weren’t an accomplice to the truck driver."

Joelson, surprised, said, "They dropped the investigation? How’s that possible! I’ve only been through a preliminary inquiry, I haven’t even taken a lie detector test."

"That’s useless, everyone knows."

Crawford grinned, then whispered, "Freedom Wind has lost several men, they can’t find anyone in Tripoli now, and have expanded the search across Libya."

"How’s it going?"

"Of course, they’ve found nothing. The CIA’s effort isn’t just in Libya to locate the Sky Garden."

Crawford sighed and then whispered softly, "Wei Feng never went to Libya; I only found out yesterday. Do you know what Wei Feng is doing?"

Joelson thought for a while before finally saying, "He’s too secretive, I don’t know."

"Wei Feng is in France investigating the French External Security Bureau. He believes everything that happened in Tripoli is fake, all a feint to cover the escape of the Sky Garden."

Joelson’s eyes widened.

Wei Feng investigated the Saudi National Intelligence Agency and concluded that Saudi hadn’t made any moves this time, so the National Intelligence Bureau could be ruled out.

Joelson was still astonished.

Wei Feng also investigated the French External Security Bureau and obtained firm news...

Crawford muttered a curse under his breath before continuing, "That French woman really admires the truck driver. Don’t ask me why, I don’t know either. But the one who nearly caused the whole Military Intelligence Sixth Department to resign in protest was the truck driver. The French External Security Bureau taught Military Intelligence Sixth Department a harsh lesson thanks to that trucker."

Joelson was taken aback, "What? I wasn’t aware of this."

"Oh, information doesn’t flow well in Libya, so you haven’t heard about such a major event. Yes, the truck driver caused a huge scene in the UK, and then that woman from the Directorate-General for External Security literally got down on her knees begging him, but the trucker insisted on leaving. Only then did the French arrange for him to be on a transport plane to Central Africa. This is definite news with ample evidence."

Joelson knew he should be asking about the major issues, but the words that came out were not what he intended.

"That Marina? What’s her deal? Kneeling on the ground, begging the truck driver not to leave? Impossible!"

"I don’t know, but that’s what Wei Feng reported. You know, Wei Feng is very meticulous – if he says it is, then it must be. So, the French must have a special relationship with the truck driver. Is the truck driver handsome?"

The last question was directed at Joelson, who was taken aback, but he replied with a puzzled look, "I wouldn’t know!"

What seemed like gossip quickly turned into a lethal question. If Joelson said the truck driver was handsome or not, it would confirm his acquaintance with him.

What does the old boss mean by this?

Crawford laughed sleazily, saying, "Does that mean he’s great in bed?"

After saying this, Crawford seriously continued, "I don’t know who would be better, I’m convinced that once Marina knows how good I am, she’d never fall for a young, inexperienced kid."

Why had the conversation suddenly taken a sleazy turn? Why had it become so vulgar all of a sudden?

Joelson looked at Crawford confusedly. Crawford sighed softly and said, "Don’t take it to heart. Since I’ve come to you, you’re in the clear. Tell me the truth. What kind of magic does the truck driver have, to make a powerful and beautiful middle-aged woman so devoted to him?"

Joelson asked quietly, "Sir, what happened?"

"As I said, Wei Feng is in France. He thinks since the truck driver landed there, um, despite your mess-up, the main point is still that he crash-landed in Libya. He has no reason, no need to stay in Libya, so Wei Feng believes the truck driver must either return to France or go to the French-controlled area."

After finishing, Crawford spread his hands and continued, "It’s been a long time now, and Wei Feng hasn’t found any clues. Just yesterday, our director couldn’t stand it anymore and personally pressed France; personally pressed the Directorate-General for External Security. Guess what happened?"

"The French wouldn’t talk?"

"The French are stubborn as hell. That woman just won’t spill the beans. Even the head of the Directorate-General for External Security gave in. The French President hinted at handing over the truck driver to us, but that woman still wouldn’t talk!"

Crawford gestured dismissively and said, "Too ruthless. A woman can be more ruthless than a man once she is. But only a woman who has been conquered both body and soul can be that ruthless."

Joelson was silent for a long time. Crawford smiled and said, "The upside is that people believe it must be the French who came to the rescue and took the truck driver away. Because as long as the truck driver is still in Tripoli, he should be findable. Since he can’t be found, he must have left. How he left, the French refuse to say, so the pressure is on France."

Joelson spoke softly, "Is there a possibility that the French really don’t know?"

Crawford shrugged, "That’s what you should say to them, hahaha..."

Crawford laughed heartily, and Joelson was forced to continue pondering Crawford’s intentions.

It wasn’t until Crawford’s laughter subsided and his tone turned cold, in a manner unfamiliar to Joelson, that he said, "So, how much did the truck driver pay you off?"

Joelson looked at Crawford, who was resolute.

"I didn’t take any payoffs from him."

Crawford said indifferently, "If you took no payoffs from him, then why are you hiding it from me too? The French are involved, the Pentagon is involved, you’re involved, and now I’m dragged into this. But it seems like you’re trying to fool me like I’m an idiot, aren’t you?"

Joelson glanced at the closed door, then he whispered, "I didn’t take any payoffs from the truck driver, but I took one for you, sir. Besides, I don’t know where the truck driver is hiding, I really don’t."

"Oh."

Crawford said with a half-smile, "If that’s your stance, then I’m really starting to lose my patience."

Joelson shook his head, speaking in a low voice, "The truck driver is just a hired hand, why does everyone think he’s so powerful? Hmm, that’s just because he’s become a proxy valued by many. The truck driver is like an adapter; through him, you can connect with incompatible power sources."

Crawford looked straight at Joelson, who continued, "Actually, I don’t know much about the truck driver. He’s very cautious, but now I know one thing, his network is really complex. The Pentagon, FBI, Directorate-General for External Security, Saudi National Intelligence Agency, the Dark Web... Boss, just from what we know now, his background is already extremely complicated. How much more don’t we know?"

Crawford was deep in thought. Joelson said quietly, "Big shots like you don’t care about money because you have too many ways to make it. Yet the truck driver can make someone like me, mid-lower rank, earn money. He can let someone like you, who doesn’t care about money, exchange resources, obtaining benefits beyond wealth. The biggest benefit I got from being held hostage by the truck driver is seeing the possibility to break industry barriers; through him, I can make direct contact with Libya’s Anti-American Armed Forces and even start cooperation with a previous cautious rival like the Pentagon."

Crawford sighed, then he spoke softly, "Actually, you’re wrong about one thing."

"What’s that?"

"You say I don’t care about money because I have too many ways to make it. That’s wrong."

Crawford smiled righteously, speaking gently, "By embezzling the astronomical sums Congress appropriates to the CIA? If you knew how little each of us actually gets when it’s divided up, you’d see it’s not that much. Risking the same dangers and yet being dragged into this mess by you, what do you think I should do now? What will I do?"