I Just Want to Live

"Someone come talk to me!" Preton pulled out a pistol and pressed it against his head. "Otherwise, I'll shoot myself!"

He added, "I'm not joking!" His expression was indeed very serious. After saying that, he actually swaggered off and sat down on the steps by the door.

A short while later, a middle-aged man in a suit came out of the room opposite. He looked very unwell and seemed to be the leader of the group.

He walked up to Preton, pulled out his badge, and said, "Federal Security Committee, may I ask how you found us?"

The head of the National Security Committee Action Team believed that even God himself would not find any flaws in his plan, but Preton saw right through it.

Preton didn't answer immediately. Instead, he carefully took the document and asked, "Could I call to verify the authenticity of this document?"

The Action Team leader paused for a moment, then nodded. "Of course, but don't try anything funny!"

Preton returned to his room, dialed the local Police Station, and briefly explained what he had been told: someone had asked him to cooperate with a secret national operation, and he showed his identification.

He was unsure of the document's authenticity, so he hoped the Police Station could help him.

A few minutes later, the operator told him that the document was genuine.

This answer relieved Preton. He reopened the door, slowly placed the pistol on the ground, kicked it away, and then slowly lay down on the ground, raising his hands as high as possible to ensure he was harmless.

As the agents were putting restraints on him, he said to the head of the National Security Committee Action Team, "The windows of your car are tinted..."

The Action Team leader suddenly turned around, looked at the Business Travel Car, and a somewhat absurd expression appeared on his face.

They had meticulously planned the arrest operation for so long, but it was all exposed because one car had tinted windows. He hadn't even considered that, even though the car windows he saw every day on his way to and from get off work were clear, he hadn't noticed it.

"Everyone in the logistics department should be fired!" he muttered, then personally escorted Preton onto the Business Travel Car.

The agents arrived quickly and left just as quickly. Before long, people in the community began to gather and chat, speculating and discussing things related to the new family who had moved in.

Meanwhile, in the car, the two started chatting again.

"You seem to have been waiting for us?" The team leader had sensed from Preton's initiative in showing up, revealing their identities, and verifying his credentials that Preton didn't seem to have any intention of running away or resisting, so he was very curious.

What kind of thinking is supporting Preton? If he really wanted to turn himself in, why didn't he contact the local Bureau of Investigation sooner?

Preton readily admitted, "Since you've already found me, there's no point in me hiding. As long as you're not one of Gefra's men, I'm willing to cooperate!"

Even if he is captured by the Federal, he can still live because he will always be a flaw in Gefra's glamorous appearance. His existence will definitely disgust Gefra Emperor at all times. As long as he has this value, the Federal will not let him die. On the contrary, they will bring him out to show him off from time to time.

If he were captured by the Gefra, he would have virtually no chance of survival.

The emperor wanted to kill him to vent his anger, Navy Minister certainly wouldn't let him go either. There might also be other nobles who had taken his money who had already sent assassins to search for him all over the world.

None of these people wanted him to live; everyone wanted him dead.

If Federal agents can find this place today, then Gefra's spies will soon find him too. He doesn't know how he was exposed, but once exposed, there's no escaping it.

"Didn't you ever think about resisting?" This was the first time the team leader had caught someone who so readily admitted defeat, and he was also curious. "Want to run away?"

Preton smiled but didn't say anything.

The Federal was able to find him because all of his stand-ins had been found. Some of those stand-ins were dead, and some were captured. None of them were the real Preton. So the Military Intelligence Agency and the National Security Committee went through the clues again and came to the conclusion that it was possible that Preton had never appeared on screen at all.

The Preton who left the country was a fake, a double; the real one is still hiding in the Federal.

With pressure from two major military powers, Gefra and the Bayer Federation, no bank could withstand such immense pressure.

Under intense work, they obtained a batch of potentially Anonymous Account through the branch accounts they had already identified, and by verifying the signatures for opening and withdrawing funds from these Anonymous Account, they found some clues.

Many of the accounts were found not to belong to Preton, but no one was disappointed. It's a process, and it may be arduous and lengthy, and there may not even be a good result, but they must continue to investigate.

This time, they didn't expect to catch Preton so quickly; they found their way here by following the usage of the anonymous bank account.

Preton also raised his own question, "How did you find me?" He laughed and said, "It was just a little curiosity of mine, of course you don't have to tell me!"

The team leader finally decided to tell him, since he had been so cooperative, "Your account hasn't had any transactions for years, do you understand what I mean?"

Preton was quick-witted; he immediately realized, "Oh, I see! I hadn't thought of that before!"

Preton prepared these Anonymous Account in a very discreet manner, just in case something happened and he wouldn't be left with nothing.

Moreover, the preparation period is very long. Some accounts were prepared several years or even more than ten years ago. He doesn't believe anyone can trace back to that far back.

But it was precisely this vigilance that exposed him.

Accounts that hadn't had any transactions for years or even decades suddenly started making purchases during the time he was hiding, and the payment signatures of these accounts were similar to his signature details. It wasn't actually difficult to filter out this information.

If he had used a different account with a normal transaction history, he could have at least escaped this massive crackdown.

News of Preton's arrest quickly spread among a small group of people. Mr. Truman immediately interrupted the ongoing teleconference, obtained the authorization documents from the President, and rushed to the National Security Committee.

He is now the First Chief Officer of the International Affairs/Policy Research Office and also an important advisor to the President. Therefore, the President only needs to issue an authorization order to allow Truman to attend the trial on his behalf, and Mr. Truman will be qualified to intervene in this matter.

Before meeting Preton, Truman had thought the arrest would be thrilling, until the Action Team leader told him that Preton offered no resistance except to verify his credentials.

This was far beyond Mr. Truman's expectations, because when they were arresting the doubles, they discovered that Preton was very cunning. He had arranged for more than one double to move around, attracting people's attention and spreading all sorts of rumors.

He was a very shrewd man, and his capture should have been extremely difficult. However, he chose an unexpected way to end his "flight" career, which gave Mr. Truman a very clear understanding of the current situation.

As they spoke, the two reached the door of the Interrogation Room. Mr. Truman kicked him in, and just as the interrogators behind him were about to come in as well, he raised his hand to stop them and then closed the door.

The only people in the room were Preton, who was restrained in a chair, and Mr. Truman, who had just entered.

"I know you, I often see you on television..." Preton was not surprised that Mr. Truman had become his interrogator, but before he could finish speaking, he saw Mr. Truman take out two handkerchiefs from his pocket.

One is ready to use at any time, and the other is a backup.

It was still very hot in the Federal at the end of September; a handkerchief was simply not enough.

He unfolded a handkerchief and covered the two cameras, then unplugged the listening wires. This action prompted the people in the monitoring room to report it immediately.

However, the people in charge of the case at the National Security Committee were not surprised; this was part of the strategy.

In the room, Mr. Truman got down from his chair, returned to the interrogation table, and sat down. "Now that no one is watching us and no one can hear what we're saying, let's have a frank conversation."

"What do you want, Mr. Preton?!"

Preton answered almost without hesitation, "I just want to live."

This was not unexpected for Mr. Truman. Everyone wants to live, and so did he. He nodded noncommittally. "Then let's talk about something that interests me, such as your dealings with the senior ministers of Gefra and the list."

"Will I live if I tell you?"

"You should understand that your life is more valuable than your death!"

The two talked for nearly an hour in a room where no one knew them, and then Mr. Truman left with a valuable document, Preton seemed relieved.

Almost that very evening, just after the Construction Minister of Gefra had finished dinner, the telephone rang at his home.

The room was resplendent with gold and exuded luxury; even the corner trim was made of gold.

The Construction Minister was a very lucrative position. Construction Minister was in charge of all "official projects" that were even remotely related to the empire. He had many opportunities to take charge of these projects.

He went into the study and answered the phone; it was a local call.

International calls typically require a transfer operator; you can't just connect whenever you want, and the entire call is recorded. Domestic calls, on the other hand, are much simpler.

He had barely sat down, and before he could even savor the enjoyment of dinner, his face darkened.