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On the speeding train, inside one of the carriages.
A phone rang.
A man in a suit answered it, then handed it to Max, who was reading a newspaper beside him.
"This isn't what we agreed on, Ethan," Max said into the phone. "Our deal was for you to be here. Face to face."
"Please forgive my rudeness, Ms. Max," Ethan replied from the other end. "I have to do this for my own safety."
And so-
Their deal began on the train.
A blond man sitting behind Max rubbed his forehead.
Morin.
He was wearing a human-skin mask, disguised as an ordinary tourist. At this moment, he felt helpless.
And... absurd.
He had too many things to say.
You people...
You're way too brazen.
You're doing an illegal deal in public?
There are ordinary passengers everywhere.
No soundproofing. No security.
Is a ten-million-dollar deal really this casual? At least get a private room. Are you that short on money?
Morin ranted internally, but his expression didn't change. He still looked drowsy. Dispirited.
Meanwhile, Max and Ethan's clean, efficient illegal transaction continued.
Morin listened while continuing his silent commentary.
Ethan: "The list is on a disk under your seat. Taped there with black tape."
Great, Morin thought. A complete CIA agent list. Under a train seat. Held on by black tape.
Max reached under her skirt-
Under her seat.
She pulled out a disk and handed it to the suited man beside her to verify.
Great, Morin continued. They're opening a laptop and checking the CIA agent list on a train. In plain sight. No attempt to hide it.
"I wish I could see you in person and thank you properly, Ethan," Max said with a smile as the file unlocked and names filled the screen.
"I'd rather see the ten million," Ethan replied. "And 'Job.'"
"I'm willing to pay," Max said. "Ten million. You deserve it."
"The money is in a silver briefcase in the luggage compartment. Rack number three. Combination 314."
Amazing, Morin thought. She just announced the location and combination for ten million dollars. Loud and clear.
"What about Job?" Ethan asked.
"I'll tell him where you are," Max said calmly. "You'll have the money. He'll come to you. Someone who'd sell you out for one million-what wouldn't he do for ten?"
"Then we're done," Ethan said. "Have a pleasant journey."
"You too."
After the call ended, Max gestured for her subordinate to begin transferring the file.
A warning appeared on the screen.
"No signal."
"What's wrong?" Max frowned.
"There's a signal problem," the subordinate said. "I can't transfer it."
"I have eyes," Max snapped. "I know that. I'm asking why."
"Battery issue?"
"Impossible," he said immediately. "That can't be it."
"Then fix it," Max urged. "We need to send it before the tunnel."
Morin glanced to his left.
Luther sat there with his own laptop. A line of code had just been entered.
On the screen:
Interception successful.
Morin mentally gave him a thumbs-up.
You could literally stand up and show her, Morin thought. You're intercepting her signal from one meter away.
If they just turned around-
Morin covered his face.
I can't watch this anymore. My intelligence is being insulted.
He stood up and walked over to Max, looking down at her.
Max and her subordinate both looked up.
After a brief pause, Max asked cautiously, "Sir? Do you need something?"
She was on guard. The man looked listless, but his timing was strange.
"You're too loud," Morin said, eyes slightly widened.
"I'm trying to sleep," he continued. "Do you understand? Be quiet. Please."
"Uh..." Max froze. "O-okay?"
"Hmph. No manners," Morin said in flawless London English.
Then he turned and went back to his seat.
Max and her subordinate exchanged glances.
"What are you looking at me for?" Max hissed. "Hurry up and transfer the files."
And just like that, the farce of a deal came to an end.
A short while later, Morin stood and muttered something about a stomach ache as he headed toward the bathroom.
"He called me rude?" Max rolled her eyes. "That fake Englishman. A phony gentleman."
The oppressive feeling of being watched was finally gone.
She turned back to her subordinate.
"Hurry."
Morin walked straight past the bathroom.
He headed for the luggage compartment.
Inside, Ethan, Jim, and Claire were locked in a standoff.
More precisely-
Jim was pointing a gun at Ethan and Claire.
Jim, the cuckold, had played his role well. He had pushed his wife toward Ethan, intentionally or not.
And now, Claire was leaning slightly toward Ethan's side.
That wasn't surprising.
Jim was old. Unattractive.
Ethan was young. Strong. Handsome.
The gap was too wide.
If not for the money, Claire would've been in Ethan's arms long ago.
During this mission, Claire and Ethan had grown close.
After receiving Morin's information, Ethan already knew Jim was the mastermind. He felt no guilt playing along with Claire's advances.
A few days ago, they had even shared a genuine heart-to-heart.
Not for the first time.
And just earlier, Ethan-wearing a human-skin mask-had pretended to be Jim and met with Claire.
She had suggested they take the money and leave without killing Ethan.
So when Ethan removed the mask, Claire's emotions were...
Complicated.
Indescribable.
Right after that, Jim had entered the luggage compartment with a gun.
"Feel the wrath of a cuckold!"
He raised the gun, ready to shoot.
And then-
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Someone knocked on the door of the luggage compartment.