Chapter 74: Casualty Report

William glanced at the consulate staff and his lawyer. Seeing them nod, he thought for a moment and said, "Alright, give me a moment. I'll get them from my room."

Without waiting for the police to respond, William went back into his room and locked the door. He retrieved the AWP and M4A1 from his storage space and meticulously wiped off his fingerprints with a towel he had in the room. He then wrapped the weapons in a bed sheet and handed them over to Del Toro when he opened the door.

Del Toro knew William had likely wiped off any fingerprints, but considering the situation had escalated beyond their jurisdiction, he decided it was best not to make a fuss. Even if they found evidence, what would it matter? William Devonshire had single-handedly taken down a group of heavily armed mercenaries who had brazenly stormed the hotel and shot at police officers on the street. The fact that no police or civilians were injured meant there was no blame on their part. Del Toro didn't want to dig deeper and risk bringing trouble upon himself.

Looking at the AWP and M4A1 on the table, Del Toro sighed, "Alright, Mr. Devonshire, you may go. However, you are not allowed to leave Black Mountain until we receive further instructions from our superiors."

"Understood. Thank you, Officer Del Toro. I appreciate your assistance. Goodbye, Officer Del Toro," William said with a smile, shaking Del Toro's hand before being escorted by the consulate staff to a waiting car.

The drive to the consulate took about ten minutes. Upon arrival, William met with the consul, who handed him some documents and exchanged a few pleasantries before attending to other matters. Exhausted from the night's events, William just wanted to sleep.

He was shown to a room that looked quite similar to a hotel room. After thanking the staff member who brought him there, William undressed, grabbed his phone, and lay down on the bed, closing his eyes in a pretense of sleep. He was waiting for Bond's call, wondering if Bond had managed to rescue Linda Vesper.

About ten minutes later, his phone rang. It was Bond. "Hello, William, where are you? The hotel's swarming with police. Are you safe?"

Hearing Bond's anxious voice warmed William's heart. "I'm fine. I'm at the consulate, very safe. Have you managed to rescue Linda Vesper?"

"Yes, she's safe now. But we can't come to the consulate. I still need to capture Le Chiffre, and I don't have much time."

"No need to look for Le Chiffre," William said. "He's already dead."

"Dead? How did he die? Damn it, William, if Le Chiffre is dead, what about our mission?" Bond sounded panicked. If Le Chiffre was dead, Bond couldn't complete his assignment.

"Don't worry. I'll handle it. I'll explain to the Security Council that I was the one who took out Le Chiffre. We can discuss everything else tomorrow. I need to sleep now. Bye," William said, cutting off Bond before he could respond and then went to sleep.

While William was comfortably asleep, the night outside was anything but peaceful. Many people had been woken from their beds and were frantically busy.

Robert Davies, the overweight police chief, was incessantly wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. The sheer number of deaths tonight was overwhelming. As the recently appointed chief, he was already regretting taking the job.

Fortunately, the incident occurred at night when there weren't many people on the streets. Most hotel staff had hidden inside when they heard gunfire. The hotel's security had efficiently evacuated the guests from the lobby and guarded the critical access points, preventing the gunmen from storming the hotel. None of the security personnel were killed. Remarkably, all the assailants were dead, and the two sent to the hospital didn't survive. If they had lived, it would have been even more troublesome for Davies. 

Had any survived to reveal the masterminds behind this attack, Davies would face the dilemma of whether to pursue them. Those capable of organizing such a large group of AK-wielding mercenaries were not to be trifled with.

As for the complications involving the Foreign Affairs department, that was their problem, as long as it didn't involve him. After all, they had responded promptly to the emergency call, engaged the attackers, and the police were not to blame. Davies felt a sense of relief thinking about this.

However, he dreaded the media scrutiny that would follow the next day. The thought alone gave him a headache.

Three hours into his night shift, Davies received a report from Officer Del Toro.

After saluting the chief, Del Toro reported, "The confirmed death toll is 43. Eighteen were killed with single shots to the head from a Glock 17—six against the hotel's side wall, five in the lobby, and seven in the second-floor restaurant. Five of the assailants who engaged us on the east side of the street were shot in the chest by an AWP. Across the street from the hotel, three were taken down—two with headshots from the AWP and one with a chest shot.

"Eleven were gunned down by M4A1 bursts on the hotel's main street. Five at the hotel entrance were killed with three-round bursts to the chest. There's one more, possibly the leader, but it's unclear whether he was thrown from the rooftop or jumped to his death. Chief, we have a major problem. If anyone recorded any of this, we could be in serious trouble."

Davies, with a stern look, asked, "Are you sure this was all done by one person?"

Del Toro, visibly shaken, nodded, "Yes, the bullet casings match the weapons we found. The hotel's security used M1911s, and there were no signs of other weapons used."

Davies cursed under his breath, "Damn Englishman, causing trouble in our jurisdiction. Now we're left to clean up the mess. And what did Foreign Affairs get from England to let William Devonshire walk away like that?"

Seeing that the chief seemed inclined to hold onto William Devonshire, Del Toro quickly stepped in to advise, "Chief, it's best to hand this over. Do we really want to detain William Devonshire? If he loses it, we wouldn't stand a chance. I don't want to die. Just thinking about how those men got their heads blown off gives me chills. Some of our guys are still in shock. Chief, please don't do anything foolish."

"Shut up, Todd. I'm not an idiot. I don't need you to tell me what to do," Davies roared at Del Toro.

While he was indeed eager to pass this case up the chain, he couldn't show fear in front of his subordinates. After all, he was the newly appointed chief and needed to maintain authority over his men.

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