I, Hogwarts Week Two

Chapter 501 Praise Their Stupidity

The lady smiled at them, with a hint of meaning in her eyes. "You are so bold - Mrs. Smith is still at home." Her tone was relaxed and even teasing.

Alice was unmoved. She calmly replied, "Ma'am, we are just here to apply for a job." Her voice was still calm, and there was no abrupt expression on her face. "We saw the job advertisement in the newspaper."

The lady nodded slightly, "Well - yes, we do need a maid."

“We have a lot of experience.”

"Okay - come in." She nodded, turned and made room for the door, indicating that they could enter.

Alice and her companions looked at each other, then walked into the mysterious safe house with firm steps.

Once inside the safe house, Jill relaxed.

Today, the codes for safe houses across London change every day, making it almost impossible for anyone to know them in advance.

"By the way, which idiot came up with this password?" Jill crossed her arms, looking unhappy, "As if we are that kind of woman."

Valerie shrugged and said, "They're all intelligence agents. They just figured it out this morning. Maybe he just happened to have a copy of The Sun lying around?"

"Ha--The Sun." Jill sneered.

As one of the most famous newspapers and magazines in the UK, The Sun is often talked about for its coverage of whether the girls on Page 3 are curvaceous.

Mrs. Smith seemed not to hear Jill's complaint. She turned around and walked gracefully towards the living room with the three of them.

The living room is decorated very luxuriously, with valuable oil paintings hanging on the walls, exquisite porcelain on the coffee table, and a faint fragrance in the air.

"Please sit down." Mrs. Smith pointed to the sofa and motioned for them to sit down.

"Your mission is—"

"I'm sorry, ma'am." Valerie V interrupted her, "Although we belong to the same British intelligence agency as MI6, you do not have the right to participate in this mission."

"Of course—" Mrs. Smith nodded and didn't ask any more questions.

The task she received was only to "receive" today's guests and prepare "lunch" for them.

Apart from this, all other requirements are not within her scope of responsibility.

As they were talking, Mr. Smith arrived.

Like traditional British men, he has striking features, a bald head

But not completely bald.

It's just that my hairline has receded quite a bit.

He was wearing a black suit and carrying two bags in his hands.

"What you need."

Alice was the first to open the package on the table.

All kinds of firearms and ammunition are available.

She skillfully checked the guns, confirming their performance and condition. Jill and V also picked up their own equipment and began to check and prepare.

"These weapons are specially made firearms produced by Precision International and have not yet been officially launched on the market. Many problems were also exposed during internal testing. But - time is tight and there is no time to make adjustments," said Mr. Smith.

"this thing"

V held up the most eye-catching gun in the package.

This is a bolt-action sniper rifle.

But what is exaggerated is that the length of the gun is estimated to be more than 1300 mm.

The magazine is also surprisingly large. It is definitely not the 7.62mm bullet used by ordinary rifles. It is a whole size larger. It is not an exaggeration to call it a cannonball.

"."

"If this thing explodes," V's mouth twitched slightly, "half of our bodies might be gone."

"Don't worry—" Mr. Smith looked at her, with a gentleman's smile on his lips, "It's powerful enough to penetrate a three-millimeter steel plate—so you won't feel any pain."

"."

Jill glared at the bald British man. What do you mean by that?

Could it have exploded during internal testing?

Why then should they be given this kind of weapon as standard equipment?

Could it be that MI5 couldn't find some suitable sniper rifles?

Forget it - she shook her head.

Silently put the weapon back into the package.

Even if I ask, the other party won't say anything.

Because they don’t know the reason either.

"Okay." V ​​nodded and said casually, "We will familiarize ourselves with the equipment as soon as possible, and then formulate a detailed action plan."

Of course, this was just an excuse to Mr. and Mrs. Smith in front of him.

They themselves don't know their specific tasks.

You have to wait until two o'clock and open the envelope to find out.

In order to keep it secret, she could only say this.

For now, all there is to do is wait.

Hearing this, Mr. and Mrs. Smith stopped talking and stepped aside, leaving the main seat in the living room to the three of them.

On the south side of the room, there is a window with a telescope in front of it.

Jill walked over, lifted a corner of the bed curtain, and looked through the telescope toward Westminster Street.

On the street, a group of hundreds of people had already gathered in front of the church.

At the street corner, anti-terrorist troops on armored vehicles looked around solemnly.

"The city government has really put in a lot of effort this time." V said sarcastically, "Such dense surveillance equipment throughout the city would cost a lot of money. The gentlemen in the parliament actually agreed to install it."

Jill had noticed the recent appearance of surveillance cameras.

I don’t know if it’s at the intersection or on the street light.

Cameras have also been installed on the rooftops of tall buildings and in some alleys.

This level of density requires a lot of money.

"At this time, they didn't bring up the right to privacy to oppose it." V continued, "Compared to the privacy of voters, their own lives are indeed more important."

"That's a good thing," Alice interrupted. "It's to anticipate the enemy's moves."

"It's possible that the gentlemen in Congress don't know about this at all." Jill suddenly interrupted, "In the United States, if the president wants to do something that Congress doesn't allow, he will package his plan a little bit."

"Oh - it's very likely." V ​​said sarcastically, "If those nobles knew that a war was going to be launched at their doorstep, they would probably run into their heads and die in front of Buckingham Palace, and would lose face to stop the Prime Minister.

Well, now it seems that Mr. Prime Minister is really courageous. "

"Courage? Jim Hack?" Mrs. Smith, who was sitting in the kitchen sipping a cup of black tea, looked as if she had heard something shocking. Her face flushed, and she covered her mouth and nose and began to cough violently.

Mr. Smith patted her on the back.

An awkward smile flashed across his lips.

"We've made worse choices, haven't we?" he consoled his wife, patting her on the back.

"Cough cough." Mrs. Smith continued to cough a few times, then took several deep breaths before calming down. "Yes"

She looked thoughtful, and after a while she replied, "Who's worse?"

"."

<divclass="contentadv">This will directly shut up her husband.

No matter how smart and eloquent he was, he was speechless for a moment.

After a pause of several seconds, he spoke again, "But no matter what, Mr. Harker's name has been recorded in history. If Britain and London can remain safe this time, he will immediately become the greatest British Prime Minister since World War II."

"That's true," Mrs. Smith shrugged. Her husband was absolutely right.

wizard

Who would have thought such a creature really existed.

And right under their noses.

On the other side, the trio by the window gathered their minds.

None of the three of them are British.

I know very little about the political situation in the UK.

It would be nice to know whether the Prime Minister is a man or a woman.

"Okay." Jill glanced at the others, "Check the time."

She glanced at the watch on her left hand, "Now - twelve twenty-seven."

"Twelve twenty-seven." The other two responded.

"Very good." Jill nodded.

"So now, it's just waiting."

Time passes minute by minute.

An hour and a half passed in the blink of an eye.

Finally, the clock hands pointed to two o'clock.

The three of them each took out an envelope from their pockets.

They looked at each other and immediately opened the envelope - inside the envelope was a short card and a pair of button-sized headphones.

The extended wire of the earphones is connected to a power supply the size of a chess piece.

Jill turned over the cards.

It shows a map of the area around Westminster Abbey with a location marked on it and a serial number next to it: 023.

The meaning is self-evident.

"Then—let's go," said Jill gravely, and she walked to the table and picked up her package.

The other two nodded and picked up their packages.

The three of them left the room one after another and went their separate ways according to their respective target locations.

Outside the window, on Westminster Street, dim, misty sunlight slanted down on the ground, adding to the bleakness of this historic street.

The crowd gathered on the street, which had been relatively calm, suddenly became agitated.

At this time, a number of black cars slowly drove into the street and stopped in a designated area near the church. The car doors opened, and diplomats from various European countries, dressed in neat suits, stepped out of the cars with steady steps.

Their appearance undoubtedly intensified the tense atmosphere on the street. The surrounding security guards immediately became nervous and looked around vigilantly.

In the crowd, a man wearing a brown windbreaker and a metal medal on his chest looked around sharply. He blended in the crowd, as if looking for something. Suddenly, he covered his ears and whispered, "0527 report."

His voice was deep.

"Two people who match the target in the intelligence have appeared in the A3 area."

"Area B4, a suspicious person."

As soon as he finished speaking, another voice sounded in his ears: "Received!"

The next moment, the surveillance camera disguised as some kind of decoration on the street lamp suddenly started to turn.

The camera focuses on the A3 area.

Not far away, Scotland Yard is about 200 yards (183 meters) from the Houses of Parliament. (London Metropolitan Police, the capital of the United Kingdom.)

Second floor - temporary joint combat command center.

In a room of several hundred square meters, hundreds of operators are constantly conveying orders.

In front of me is a monitoring area with hundreds of screens.

The surveillance area was divided into several areas, and almost everywhere around Westminster Abbey was accurately marked on this huge "electronic map". The images on the screen kept switching, showing the real-time situation on the street.

In the center of the Joint Operations Command Center, a senior police officer in uniform was standing in front of a large screen.

"Order all personnel to stand by and monitor suspicious persons." He said in a deep voice, his voice echoing in the command center with unquestionable majesty. "No shooting without authorization. Tell everyone that no one is allowed to act without authorization, no matter what."

Right in front of him, the screen showed two mysterious figures who suddenly appeared on the street corner. They were wearing ancient clothes, at least the style of fifty or sixty years ago, which formed a sharp contrast with the other people around them.

From the screen, one can vaguely make out that there are a man and a woman standing on the street corner as if waiting for something.

The camera quickly went back ten seconds to try to capture the appearance of the two people. However, the scene in the picture was unbelievable - they seemed to have been squeezed out of some kind of pipe and suddenly appeared in that position, without any signs or logic.

"Wait--"

Wait!

As one of the commanders of this operation, the man knew that he only had one chance. He seemed to be standing on the edge of a cliff, and he had to be cautious with every step.

Wizards are the most cunning venomous snakes, lurking in the dark and delivering a fatal blow once you let your guard down.

They must capture the opponent's head with one blow and not give him any chance. Otherwise, what awaits them will be endless troubles, or even a crisis for the entire city.

The man took a deep breath, suppressed the tension and anxiety in his heart, and quickly gave an order: "Connect Mr. M."

As the command was delivered, a magnetic, low voice came from the earphones hanging on the ears a few seconds later.

"—all life will eventually end."

This is the password.

The man was slightly startled, then replied: "All sincere hearts will eventually be broken."

"What's the plan?"

"Everything is under control."

"Very good." A magnetic voice came from the other side of the headset, letting out a long breath. It didn't sound like relaxation after tension, but just a puff of smoke. The owner of the voice was relaxed the whole time.

Just by the sound of his voice, one could guess that the other party should be sitting in a spacious and bright office at this moment, with a cigarette in one hand and a phone in the other, easily and freely making logical deductions based on the information he received.

"Playing chess - it's so simple it's boring."

"This is thanks to our enemies—and friends," the man said calmly.

"Yes." Mr. M's voice sounded again from the other end of the headset, and he exhaled a puff of cigarette lightly, "Thanks to their stupidity."

After a pause, he added: "Praise their stupidity."

"By the way - is Mr. Jacob Levi satisfied with the stage we built for him?" Mr. M asked lazily.

"He had no choice." The man said. Jacob Levi was the wizard captured in Europe.

MI6 made a life-like mask for him and provided a death row inmate with a similar figure and appearance to stand trial in his place.

It can be said that the entire stage was set up for him.

This spectator was also present at the scene, but at the moment he was a diplomat from a European country.