After a brief video call with Barney, during which they exchanged some embarrassing stories from their past, Trench, who looked as tough as a brick wall, finally believed the situation.
Stretching his stiff limbs, Trench picked up a gun from the ground, scavenged a few magazines, and just as Christmas and Yin Yang were about to leave, he suddenly called out, "Wait."
He walked to the corner and dragged out a sack, rescuing a person stuffed inside. "This is my employer. If it weren't for saving him, I wouldn't have let myself get captured yesterday on purpose."
"On purpose?"
Christmas and Yin Yang exchanged glances and shrugged. Purposeful or not, rescuing one or two people didn't make much difference.
Christmas nodded. "We'll handle the cleanup. You ensure your employer's safety."
"OK, no problem." Trench slung his employer over his shoulder, grabbed an AK with one hand, and said, "Let's go, boys. Let's shoot our way out."
As they exited the room, Yin Yang nodded to Christmas and then sprinted ahead. Moments later, the sound of gunfire echoed continuously in front of them.
By the time Trench emerged carrying his employer, he was stunned to see corpses strewn all over the ground and four men in the same Mark III armor standing idly around.
Swallowing hard, Trench hesitated for a moment before awkwardly saying, "Guys, can you ask your boss if he's hiring? I suddenly feel like Barney was right—working for your boss has a future."
"No, not just a future. There's also a fortune," said Gunner, who knew Trench. Removing his helmet, he patted Trench on the shoulder. "Do you know how much I'm worth now?"
"How much?" Trench asked, playing along.
"Hmm," Gunner thought for a moment. "About 30 or 40 million, I guess."
"Dollars?"
"No, pounds." Gunner rolled his eyes at Trench, clearly enjoying the opportunity to one-up him. "I'm settled in London now, so of course, it's in pounds."
"Damn! Is your mercenary fee that high now?" Trench asked, both annoyed and envious.
"No, no, you're mistaken again," Gunner said with a grin. "Our fees are slightly higher than average, but still within the normal range. The key is that we have a boss who's a money-making genius. Over the past year and a half, just by following his guidance, our net worth has increased several times. Jealous?"
"Of course," Trench admitted without hesitation. But Gunner, knowing Trench well, wasn't fooled by his current docile demeanor. Trench might act agreeable now, but when it came to killing and scheming, Gunner knew he couldn't outmatch him.
"Alright, enough talk. The boss is waiting."
After Barney informed them that the plane was parked on a lake 10 kilometers away, Christmas ordered the group to find vehicles.
They found three cars, and Trench shoved his employer into the trunk of Gunner's car. Realizing that the $200,000 contract from his employer no longer mattered, he didn't even hesitate.
Six hours later, their plane landed at the Ace Academy airstrip on the outskirts of London.
Barney originally planned to take Trench directly to meet William, but Sunday informed him that William had arranged for dinner at the Gordon Ramsay restaurant near Chelsea Stadium.
The group handed over their Mark III armor to Harry Hart and stopped by the Kingsman tailor shop to pick up some simple off-the-rack suits.
Dressed in sharp suits, they arrived at the restaurant to meet William.
"Good afternoon, Trench," William greeted warmly, shaking Trench's hand. Back in the day, Trench (the "Governor") had been a household name in China. Unfortunately, here, he was just a middle-aged mercenary struggling to make ends meet.
"Hello, Lord Devonshire."
In their circles, rumors had spread that Barney's Expendables were working for a mysterious tycoon. But seeing William in person, Trench was still surprised. It was hard to believe someone of William's stature would employ a team of aging mercenaries.
"No need to be so formal," William said, glancing at his watch. It was only 5:15 p.m. "Should we eat first or get down to business?"
If William hadn't checked his watch, Trench would've deferred to him. But now, he quickly replied, "Let's talk business first. Otherwise, I won't have the appetite to eat."
"OK, let's head to the rooftop—it's more spacious and private there."
William nodded to the restaurant manager, who immediately gestured politely and led them to the second-floor rooftop.
On the rooftop, the manager brought over a bottle of whiskey and said eagerly, "Your Grace, our restaurant recently acquired a bottle of Macallan 1953. Would you be interested in trying it?"
"Alright, open it. Thank you," William said, waving him off. Christmas took the bottle, opened it, and poured a glass.
Taking a sip, William turned to Trench and said with a smile, "You and Barney go way back, so I'll get straight to the point."
"Of course, it's an honor, Mr. Devonshire," Trench replied. He couldn't help but glance at the whiskey in his glass and swallow hard before looking up to hear William out.
After a moment of thought, William said, "I want to know about the events you encountered in the Central American jungle in 1987."
"How do you know about that?"
The usually fearless Trench froze, his hand trembling as he held the glass. Taking a few deep breaths, he said solemnly, "This isn't a good idea, Mr. Devonshire. Seriously, I strongly advise against getting involved with them."
"What's this about?"
The rest of the Expendables were shocked by Trench's reaction. These men, veterans of 10 to 20 years in the mercenary world, weren't afraid of much. Yet Trench, who was one of the hardest of them all, looked genuinely shaken.
"Quiet," William raised a hand to silence the group. After a few seconds of thought, he said, "I know you were the last survivor out of a seven-man team back then. My question is, if your team had been equipped with the same armor Barney's group used earlier, how confident would you have been in defeating the Predator?"
"The Predator? That's what they're called?" Trench asked urgently.
"Yes," William nodded, watching him closely.
Realizing William was only asking about the armor, Trench thought for a long moment before replying, "I haven't tested it and don't know the exact parameters, so I can only estimate. If the armor can counter their cloaking, then with a seven-on-one fight, I'd be confident in taking down the Predator I encountered back then.
But the battlefield matters a lot. If it's in the jungle, the casualties would likely be significant."
After pausing for a moment, Trench added, "The Predator uses energy-based weapons. While their blast radius isn't large, their penetration power is immense.
They excel in stealth, are masters of melee combat, and possess incredible physical strength and resilience. Their claws and spears can slice through ordinary weapons like butter.
Worst of all, when they're on the brink of death, these maniacs activate a self-destruct device on their wrists."
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