"Your hardware picked up the signals when their heads exploded, it came from one IP address that I was able to trace back to the Valentine corporation."

"Great, that's going to be near impossible to narrow down." I groaned, folding my arms over my chest as I watched the video. "Did you catch the glow?"

"I did. The one beneath the scar?"

"They all had them then?" Abi asked as Merlin played the frame by frame.

"Aye."

"But why did they detonate?"

"If I were to hazard a guess, I'd say the signal was pumping in the second professor Arnold stepped into Mordred's dark zone. That means the implant's transmitting to something."

"So the second it stops transmitting?"

"The signal's tripped and then received as soon as the implant starts communicating again."

"That's when the guards rushed in, when Professor Arnold's signal disappeared. Then they see he's alive, so far everything's good. But they couldn't know about the dead zone. If they did then they never would have insisted we go to his office to talk… Instead, we walk out of the lecture hall and professor Arnold starts screaming."

"Did you get anything from him?"

"No." I sighed, shaking my head as I uploaded the feed to Merlin's computer.

"Interrupted by the goons. And you were so close." Abi sighed. "Right now our only lead is one of the largest conglomerates on Earth. Why didn't you imperius them too?"

"Because I don't like using that curse and can't use it on more than one person at a time."

"Shame that…"

"Anywho, the interesting bit is that the origin didn't come from any of Valentine's known properties. It came from here," Merlin said, pulling up a world map and pinpointing on a hotel in Stockholm.

"Does Valentine have any assets in Sweden?"

"No," Merlin said, shaking his head. "As far as we know, Valentine's been shooting his movie. Any time he wasn't in Hollywood, he's been entertaining the richest, most powerful names in the world at his Boston home."

"Any overlap with the people who have gone missing?" Abi asked, her frown so deep that it was creasing her forehead.

"There's some overlap, aye, but not enough. Everyone Valentine's known to have hosted were seen hours, days even, after their meeting. Then there have been the other cases like Professor Arnold where they disappear from the public briefly before their swift return. Others haven't been seen in weeks."

"So we have three categories: those who are known aquiantances of Valentine's who wouldn't arrouse suspicion if they met at his home, those who have no obvious connection to Valentine but disappeared and returned all the same, and then there are the kidnapped."

"How do we know the second category exists?"

"Arnold had guards. His and both of their heads exploded, if you hadn't noticed."

"Good point…"

"Back on topic, men. And lady. How should we go about this?"

"How should I go about this, you mean? You have work tomorrow, dear." Abi said innocently. I rolled my eyes.

"I think I'll take a few days vacation, then. After all this time, I've earned it." I smirked as Abi did the same.

"About time." She smirked as Merlin rolled his eyes.

"Enough, you two. Unfortunately, I can't get you into Valentine's inner circle. He personally vets them," Merlin said.

"Who do we know's in it, then?"

"His assistants. It appears he has a public relations assistant and then he has another to deal with his personal affairs. Both female. The PR rep is seen often enough that we can piece together her whereabouts for every minute of every day for the past three years. If she took so much as a shit, I can tell you when it hit the water."

"Too much, Merlin, too much." Abi cringed, shaking her head in disgust.

"Right, my apologies. Anyway, it's his other assistant that's a curiosity. She's a double amputee with unique prosthetics. They're made of steel that have replaced her legs from the knee downward."

"Are those swords?" I asked, gaping at the posts contacting the ground.

"It certainly looks that way…" Merlin said, his eyes narrowed as he tapped on his clipboard. "Giselle DuBois, born October 7, 1985 to… Hm. It doesn't say." He muttered, tapping his clipboard rapidly. "All her files have been redacted except her name, date of birth, and employee ID number."

"Now that's interesting," I said, folding my arms over my chest as I studied the profile on screen. "She's likely Valentine's personal bodyguard."

"Or pet killer. Most likely both."

"Aye… Then there's this. This was recently brought to our attention. Gawain, you may not wish to look," Merlin said quietly. "It confirms Lancelot's death."

"Show us, Merlin," she said tightly. I felt my gorge rise as Merlin put the picture on the screen.

"MI6 had this picture on file. To our knowledge, they were unable to identify Lancelot. They also sent a copy over to Langley but the boys and girls at the CIA didn't have a clue as to who Lancelot was either, thankfully. Kingsman is still secure."

"They cut him in half?" Abi's voice was as venomous as it was horrified as she stared at the screen.

"Yes."

"Valentine has an assistant with bladed legs and Lancelot was cut in half…" I muttered, not liking the picture this was painting. "Tell Galahad, since this is technically his case, but try to keep Arthur in the dark. We need to keep this quiet for as long as we can. We'll give Arthur our report when we've concluded our investigation."

"Understood, Mordred," Merlin said, tapping his glasses. "Galahad? Are you there?"

"I am," Galahad said, Merlin having looped Abi and I into his comms array. "Have you found something?"

"Too much and too little, it appears. Will you join us in Mordred's study?"

"Of course." Galahad said. "I will be with you shortly."

"Understood." Merlin said, tapping his glasses again while I sank into one of my armchairs.

"Bloody Hell. Why do I have the feeling we just fell face first into something we should have stayed well away from?" I muttered, rubbing my face.

"Because we're Kingsman," Abi said as she sat down. "It's kind of in the job description."

"Right." I sighed, closing my eyes while we waited for Galahad to join us. And he was right, it only took about five minutes before there was a knock at the door. "Come in." I said, then the door swung open and Galahad stepped inside.

"What have you found?"

"Quite a bit of nothing. We have a lot of conjecture and some evidence that makes us uneasy. The only thing we have concrete is confirmation of Lancelot's death."

"I'd hoped we'd drank too soon," Galahad said tightly while he folded his hands behind his back and examined the picture of James' stapled-together face. "He was cut in half? In a safehouse in Argentina?"

"Yes. As far as I can tell a violent, powerful blow from a very sharp blade did this." Merlin said, bringing up Gazelle's picture again. "Like the ones attached to her legs. This is Giselle DuBois, Richmond Valentine's personal assistant and presumed bodyguard. Where he goes, she goes."

"You believe Valentine was in the safehouse where Lancelot was killed?"

"I can't be certain but all of the evidence is pointing to him. Either he's behind it, implicit, or someone really wants to frame him for this to throw us off their trail. Right now all we have to go on is the location of the signal that killed Arnold, the list of kidnapped individuals overlapping with his guest lists on several occasions, and the fact the guards with Arnold - who we still have yet to identify – are lacking their heads as well. Someone was paying those men to protect Arnold or the identity of the man who kidnapped him."

"I take it Mordred was unable to coax the name of Arnold's captor from him?"

"He was interrupted by the guards before he was able to ask."

"I see. We will need to get into Mr. Valentine's organization, then."

"Valentine vets his inner circle members personally. We couldn't slip a man or woman in there easily."

"Blast. What else can we do?"

"It appears he is hosting a gala dinner soon. Perhaps we could use that to get you close to the man."

"You wouldn't send Mordred?"

"He will be there as well. You just won't see him." Merlin smirked and so did I.

"Ah, I see." Galahad nodded. "Very well. And Gawain?"

"I'm going to find out why people aren't looking for the people who have been kidnapped. There's something going on there but I'm not sure what it is."

"Be careful," I said. "We don't know how deep Valentine's burrowed himself in with the upper echelons of society."

"I'll be careful, Mordred," Abi said, nodding as Galahad folded his hands behind his back.

"I take it you want to keep this quiet?"

"Even from Arthur. He's busy with the rest of the organization and Lancelot trials. Besides, this all may just be coincidence but if it isn't… Well, Arthur is just the kind of person this kidnapper would commit genocide to get his hands on. MI6 has already been compromised and we can assume the CIA has been as well."

"That's where we got this photo?"

"It is. I'm going to see if Whittaker will talk to me after all these years."

"You aren't afraid he won't out you?"

"No. He's a good man and passed the tracks test. That and he knows Lancelot's face but MI6 is clueless. We have access to MI6's most sensitive files but we don't know who gave them the picture in the first place."

"But Whittaker may know the rumors they won't even put to paper," Galahad said. "It has merit. See what he knows but be careful."

"Yes, Galahad. What do we know about his schedule? Is he in the country?"

"Surprisingly enough, he is. He's an analyst now, following a field injury that resulted in him being made an amputee." Merlin said, accessing Whittaker's file from MI6. "All of his records state he was an excellent agent taken out of the field much too early."

"And how'd he become an amputee?"

"Took a poisoned knife to the foot. Slow acting but horribly damaging. The doctors were just able to save his knee but everything else was a total loss."

"Damn… Okay then. I'll go to Vauxhall tonight, see if I can coax him to dinner."

"While you do that, I think it's time I track down Sophia," Abi said, folding her arms under her chest. "See if she can tell us anything we don't know about professor Arnold."

"Usually, we do not approach failed candidates in the field," Galahad said, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "But these are not usual times. As she is still loyal to our organization, I can allow it. I believe Miss Pride has a class tonight, audit it, if you would, then speak with her afterward. Mordred, I will get you dinner reservations. Your driver will know where to take you. The reservation will be under Potter. You and Mr. Whittaker will be able to speak freely."

"Thank you, Galahad."

"Of course. Now you'd best be going if you want to catch Mr. Whittaker before he clocks out for the day. Oh, and please do take the Hyperloop and cab. You may not have time to waste but we do need time to prepare." He said pointedly. I nodded as I stood up, buttoning my jacket as Abi joined me.

"Shall we, Mordred?"

"Indeed we shall, Gawain," I said, opening the door for her. "And gentlemen? Feel free to use this space for as long as you wish."

"Thank you, Mordred. You'd best be off."

"Of course, Galahad," I said, closing the door behind me.

"Damn. I should have known you would be here," Whittaker said as he passed by me. "As soon as I saw Lancelot, I should have bloody known you'd be all over this, Gawain."

"Mordred, actually. Gawain is speaking to our mutual acquaintance at Imperial College. Walk with me?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Of course. Do you have plans?"

"No, but I'd still rather go home." Whittaker huffed, pulling a pack of fags from his pocket and lighting up.

"Come now, Jared, don't be that way," I said as I opened my taxi door. "Especially when we have a six o'clock reservation at the Ninth."

"Bloody Hell… I forgot how good you guys had it." Whittaker huffed, stamping out the cigarette as he ducked into the cab. I closed the door behind him and circled to the other side of the vehicle.

"Indeed. Ryan?"

"The Ninth, sir?"

"Yes, thank you." I nodded. "Oh, and would you please activate the privacy screen?"

"Right away, sir," Ryan said as he tapped a button that separated the cockpit from us with a wall of black glass.

"I really miss the fancy toys you lot have at Kingsman." Whittaker sighed, gesturing toward the cigars in the divider with a raised eyebrow.

"They're actually cigars, not grenades. Though I do have to say that none of us at Kingsman could say we were James Bond." I grinned, pushing his shoulder as he took one of the cigars, lit it, and took a puff, the smoke drifting into the ceiling lazily before it disappeared into the scrubbers.

"For a little while at least." He sighed, looking down at his leg as he took another drag of the cigar. "I was an agent for three years and then I was fucking made by some asshole hitman in Brazil."

"I'm sorry about that. You would have made a good Gawain."

"So would you. How'd you convince the old hardass to give you a place?"

"I have a certain set of skills that Arthur wanted to add to the organization in perpetuity. Gawain is simply an excellent agent, far better than me for certain. I'm afraid I can't say much more than that."

"Right, I won't pry." Whittaker sighed. "Back to Lancelot… Bloody Hell… I can't believe he was cut in fuckin' half. Have they started his trials yet?"

"Last night. They picked their puppies this morning."

"Ah, good times." Whittaker smiled wistfully. "It's a damn shame though."

"Yes it is. Do you know who sent the photo in?"

"I only know it was a female who talked to the chief and I only know that much because he passed the picture through all his analysts and field agents. Said he had a friend who wanted to know who Lancelot was and that she wanted to know yesterday."

"And you still haven't sold us out? Even after all this time… Good on you, mate."

"I thought about it… More than once, actually. MI6 are supposed to be the good guys, yeah? But then I kept figuring that Kingsman were the good guys too and they were doing a lot of good without Whitehall breathing down their necks. And after seeing Lancelot like that? I'm damn glad I never said a word. No. I won't sell you out. Especially not to monsters who can do that to their fellow man."

"At least it was quick," I said quietly. Jared nodded too.

"Yeah… At least it was quick. How's Regulus?"

"He's getting up there in years, I actually had to retire him last year. I managed to get another black Alsation two years ago, though." I smiled. "His name's Godric, Reggie's made training him a bloody dream. How's your pup?"

"I had to put him down two years ago. Prostatitis, you see."

"Damn mate, I'm sorry to hear that. Thought about getting another?"

"In this economy and with my pay? Pull the other one. I may still make a field agent's salary but it's still shite. The benefits are amazing though."

"Government jobs always have the best perks." I chuckled.

"Nah, Kingsman has the best perks, mate." He grinned. "I mean, reservations at the Ninth for prime time on a whim? Bloody amazing. How's your dental?"

"Top of the line, like everything else." I smirked.

"Heh, lucky bastard." He chuckled, pouring himself a finger's worth of my favorite plum brandy. "Well, since Kingsman's paying, I might as well enjoy myself for once."

"For once? Mr. Bond, you could have enjoyed yourself everyday."

"Trust me, the job was nowhere near as glamorous as the movies made it out to be." He sighed. "I'm a single, one legged, government gopher living in London and unable to talk about any part of my job – not even the cool shite, sorry especially not the cool shite — to anyone but you, mate, and likely because you already know it all. I have an apartment a matchbox would laugh at and work for MI6. That's about the coolest thing I can say about my life. Now I don't even have my freaking dog."

"You've had it rough, my friend, and I'm sorry for your troubles. I wish I could help you more but maybe you can help us… I might be able to get you in with our tech department. Not as glamourous or well paying as an agent's role but it's more than what you've got now."

"I'd like that, mate… Does Kingsman have a lead on the monster that did that to Lancelot?"

"You know I can't discuss that."

"That's a yes. Who?"

"I can't say."

"Bloody super secret agents." Whittaker sighed, putting his hand on his head while he closed his eyes. "Look, I know the chief is in someone's pocket, someone who has suspiciously deep pockets, but nothing else."

"So who does that narrow it down to?"

"I… I know he's had dinner with the Queen recently but the Queen wouldn't be asking about Lancelot, would she?"

"Her Majesty is still currently unaware of our organization."

"So she might have?"

"The Queen wouldn't kill a man like that."

"True enough." He sighed, swirling his drink. "He's also spoken with Richmond Valentine once but he's harmless enough."

"You've met him?"

"I've had the pleasure." He nodded. "Seemed like a- No."

"Maybe. We're looking into his dealings."

"No way. You think Richmond fucking Valentine did that to Lancelot?"

"Actually his sword footed assistant is looking to be the likely culprit."

"Gazelle? Really? I haven't met her in person but she doesn't seem like the type. And it wasn't her who brought in the photo."

"Damn, I was hoping they slipped… But you know what appearances mean."

"Jackshit."

"Bingo. She's his bodyguard."

"Bloody Hell… Wait… Is this connected professor Arnold?"

"Most likely."

"Do you know the shit that's stirred up? Were you the one who blew off his head? His and those of his buddies?"

"Those were his handlers, not his buddies. The report must have mentioned their SMGs."

"B AMCs chambered in .40 Smith and Wesson. It's a rather rare weapon that you mostly see with the American MPs. The fact is in .40 is even stranger though. The Yanks use the same weapon, aye, but theirs are chambered in 9 millimeter. You rarely find it chambered in that caliber, even if it is rather effective. Then they were also carrying Smith & Wesson M Compacts, those were .40 cals too. The police found them holstered in their coats."

"Interesting… Police issue?"

"Close enough. I didn't think anything of it but the weapons were registered to the Valentine Corporation's security force. The police assumed they were stolen."

"Bloody Hell…"

"Want me to keep an ear to the ground?"

"I'll have to clear that with Galahad. This is his mission, I'm just assisting."

"Understood," Whittaker said, frowning. "What do you think Valentine's up to?"

"Based on the information we have? Absolutely nothing good."

"Agent Mordred. How was your dinner?"

"Excellent as ever, Galahad. But the conversation I had before was quite enlightening." Merlin and Galahad raised their eyebrows as I put my conversation with Whittaker on the screen.

"Interesting…" Abi muttered, leaning back in her chair. "So Valentine was almost certainly behind Arnold's kidnapping, but why? Why Arnold? Sophia said that he was exactly what we thought he was, a climate change lecturer. The only thing concerning in his background is what he lectured on."

"Aye, I did a bit of digging into Gaia theory while you worked over Whittaker and Pride. It's the theory that Earth will heal itself like a host ridding itself of a virus."

"Don't tell me he thought global warming is a fever?"

"That's exactly what he thought."

"As fascinating as that is, I'm not sure how that helps us," Abi said.

"He's a lecturer. He has no money, he only has a few connections… So either Valentine needed something for him or he's just a personal fascination."

"So how do cannibals in Uganda tie to climate change? Or why do dead Chechnyan Insurgents relate to Gaia Theory?" I said, frowning heavily. "And why the bloody fuck do exploding heads point to Richmond Valentine? We just don't have enough information to see the bigger picture."

"And what a shame that is," Galahad said. "Now is the time we must watch, listen, and wait until Mr. Valentine fails to be discreet or the person truly behind this reveals their cards. It would be beneficial for us if we could get devices onto his person."

"Shame he doesn't have any ties to the magical world." I grunted. "I'm sure he would have loved to meet Harry Potter if he knew who I was."

"He likely knows who Hugo Ackeral is, though."

"He shouldn't," Merlin said. "There wasn't enough time for the implants to send a signal back to their home base, assuming they can relay information at all."

"Wouldn't that be something? If the implants let Valentine see through the carrier's eyes."

"Until we can prove otherwise, we should operate under that assumption," Merlin said, a worried edge in his voice.

"That and we should assume he can hear through their ears," Galahad said. "If I am to attend this gala, I will have to go under an alias."

"I'll make sure it's one worthy of kidnapping," Merlin smirked.

"Thank you kindly, Merlin. Do we have any other leads besides the mountain hideout in Argentina?"

"I'm afraid not. Lancelot was not planning to effect a rescue mission but it would be a good place to begin our research."

"Yes it would." I nodded. "Merlin?"

"I'll get the plane ready. Do you plan to take care of this mission yourself?"

"Yes. I'm afraid I'll have to tell Kingsley I'm going to need to take a few weeks of vacation so I can."

"You aren't afraid of losing your position?"

"Not at all. Kingsley can handle the paperwork until we finish this." I shrugged. "Besides, I took care of his paperwork for six weeks while he took his sabbatical. As far as I'm concerned, this is mine."

"And a well earned sabbatical it would be. A shame it won't be legitimate." Galahad said.

"Who knows? I'd rather search a house in Argentina than scrawl my signature on paperwork all day." I shrugged with a smirk. "Maybe I should take an early retirement, let someone else deal with all of it."

"Unfortunately, Mordred, we need you to be our eyes and ears in your Ministry."

"Oh, that's done already, Galahad," I grinned. "We have eyes and ears in every room in the Ministry."

"I don't even want to know how you got into the ladies' rooms."

"After hours. There are no monitoring charms anywhere in the Ministry save at the entrances per my suggestion. Getting into the loos was as easy as opening the door and walking in."

"We have full coverage?" Galahad asked, more than a little surprised.

"I do. I'm afraid I cannot give you full access to the information as most of it is rather tedious but should there be anything of concern? Well, I've got eyes down to the secret rooms in the Department of Mysteries." I said, more than a little proud of that accomplishment. "Should anything worrying come to light, I'll inform the twelve. The bugs have the same tech as my glasses so they'll transmit even after an impenetrable field is cast around them. That's a given in the DOM."

"I'm impressed, Mordred," Galahad said, swiping through the footage shown on Merlin's clipboard. "How did you manage that?"

"I made myself available to everyone in the Ministry, it opened every door. I almost hate that I abused that trust but now we have eyes and ears in the most sensitive places of the British Ministry of Magic."

"Bloody well done," Galahad said as he examined the 3-D views of my office and the Minister's. "Are these the only two rooms with real view?"

"No. The list includes the Head Auror's office, the Auror bullpen, and every lab in the Department of Mysteries."

"It's actually quite impressive," Merlin said. "This is the most thorough job I've ever seen from one of our agents. You're sure you want sole control of that information?"

"If Kingsman needs to know about it, I'll share. Otherwise anything that passes through the MoM can be considered a state secret of the ICW and they don't care who you work for. They'll obliviate everyone in the organization down to the apprentice hatters just because I work for you."

"Is it truly that serious?"

"Absolutely."

"Especially because he's had over a decade to do this job, Merlin," Abi said with a frown. "Hard asses, they are."

"I couldn't have put it better myself."

"How's it feel to know you can quit your day job?"

"Bloody fantastic."

"Are you going to inform Arthur?"

"After our investigation is over." I nodded. "Again, this needs to stay quiet. Now, if you lot will excuse me, it appears Kingsley is still in the office."

"Good luck, Mordred," Merlin said. "I have a feeling you're going to need it."

"You're probably right."

"In these years you've worked for me, Harry, they've been the most efficient the DMLE and Auror Corps have ever seen… I hate to see you go but I do understand, and I'll be honest, I've been thinking of retiring too. I've spent too many years behind this desk." Kingsley said as he swirled the firewhisky in his glass.

"If that's your way of trying to guilt me into staying, Shack, it's working," I said as I sipped my own drink. "But, I have a list of people here that I think will be suitable candidates for the job and the potential replacements for the posts they vacate."

"That certainly saves me a good deal of time." Shacklebolt smiled as he took the file and cracked it open. "Alicia Thompson, Percy Weasley, and Jeremiah Hunt… Percy Weasley is an interesting choice, isn't he?"

"He's by the book, methodical, and organized. He'd be a good director."

"If he follows your new guidelines?"

"There's nothing really new about those, Shack. I've been implementing muggle civilian police protocols with the LEAs while the Aurors have been getting military police training ever since you gave me the job."

"Huh… I never knew. You were a good director but if you think it's time to move on, I can open a few hours in my schedule to interview the three of them."

"That's all I could ask for. Who do you think will replace you as Minister when you take your well earned retirement?"

"If miss Granger- Sorry, Missus Weasley, still lived in the Isles she would have had the job already."

"But she still hasn't come back from Australia," I said darkly. "Do you know if she and Ron have had any more kids?"

"If you have to ask me that question then your falling out was far worse than I could have imagined."

"He missed his brother's funeral and I caught them playing grabass in Grimmauld after I came back from the funeral." Kingsley's jaw fell open as he stared at me. "Then she said they had just gotten back from France and had a flight to Australia later that day. She lied to my face, Shack, so yes, we fell out."

"Bloody Hell…"

"That's what I thought too." I muttered as I knocked back the liquor. "But I understand why. I'd just caught my best mate with my other best mate's hands on her ass, I'd have been shocked if she actually was thinking clearly."

"Right. Molly would have been mortified."

"Not as mortified as she would have been over her daughter."

"That's the truth of it," Shack grunted. "She's on her fourth husband now, I believe? A Mr. Michael Corner?"

"Huh, interesting. She dated him in Hogwarts and then they broke up. He was my year, a Ravenclaw, yes?"

"One in the same."

"Of course. How long has she been with him?"

"They've been married for six months."

"Right. I never kept up with her personal drama but she does write excellent sports columns. Shame her chaser career was over so quickly."

"Isn't it? She and Molly may dote over her children but I still firmly believe she would have made one of the best Aurors we ever could have had."

"She was a force in the war. Bloody Hell, I still remember that Reducto she used to level the hall of prophecy."

"The DOM still hasn't completely forgiven her for that."

"And still I think it was the greatest thing she ever did." I smirked as Shack laughed heartily.

"Yes, understandably so considering your history with prophecy." Shacklebolt chuckled as he refilled our glasses. "Come now, Harry. Have one last drink with me while the both of us are still Ministry Men." He smiled before he relaxed back into his chair, heaving a long sigh. "Hereby, I accept your resignation, effective immediately. You are entitled to a pension of one quarter of your salary for the rest of your natural life, to be deposited into an account at Gringotts – your personal vault if I can manage it. I'll keep it quiet until we find your replacement. Thank you for your service to our country and to our world, Director," he said as he picked up his glass and raised it.

"Thank you for the opportunity, Minister." I nodded as I picked up my own glass, clinking it against his.