A TAXI JUST ZOOMED PAST HIM on one of the quiet and empty streets in the city of Manchester, nearly crashing onto him in the process, but he didn't really care anyway.
After all, now was no time to chase a taxi driver out of frustration. He really only needed to meet one person.
The man crossed the street and looked around to check for any surveillance cameras before diving into an alley.
Of course, he had kept his hat down low to his eye level so that none of the cameras would be able to recognise him with face recognition.
He walked deeper into the alley until he stopped by the third door he walked past. Before he could take out the keys to the door, it opened from the inside to reveal a young man.
The young man gestured for the man outside to come in.
The room they walked into wasn't much. It was only a miniature space with a single wooden table with three identical chairs as they only used this room for one reason.
"Walker has not returned?" The young man asked with his left eyebrow raised, sitting down.
"Walker will not return. He's dead. He failed."
"Then what about you, Lane? Isn't "Operation Syndicate" a complete and utter failure too?" The young man snarled. Lane did not reply. The young man had a point.
"I cannot believe you two!" The young man shouted as softly as he can. "We only had one goal! And after two tries, we still cannot eliminate Hunt!"
"I still don't know why you want to kill Ethan so badly," Lane answered. "He is, after all-"
The young man banged the wooden table between them with his fist, making Solomon Lane flinch slightly in the process, but the young man was too angry to notice.
"Do not finish that sentence," He growled with gritted teeth. Lane then kept his mouth shut.
The young man he was talking to may be nearly twice as young as him, but his skill as an agent was much better than his. He did receive training from a very young age.
However, Lane did not blame him. His mother died when he was merely a newborn. His father then raised him until he was twelve. Despite being fairly distant, he trained him.
But at the age of twelve, he abandoned him, according to the young man's words, leaving him to live by himself scrapping for food by the streets until he met Lane.
Despite having to scrap or beg for food, he did manage to not become underweight or overweight with Lane not knowing how. In fact, he looked a lot stronger than others for his age.
"But, Eu-" Lane started.
"Do not call me by that forsaken name. I hate it."
"Walter, we can activate Operation-"
"Don't bother," Walter interrupted, standing up. "I'll do it myself."
"How are you supposed to track Hunt?" Lane asked.
"I already did."