Warlords: Rising from the Northwest Border and Sweeping Across the Powers

Chapter 1259 Smith's Invitation

A private room at the Ritz Hotel, London.

When Brighton pushed the door open, Smith was already sitting there, with a wisp of smoke rising from the cigar in front of him.

"General Smith," Brighton said with a standard diplomatic smile, "I am flattered that you have returned to London unexpectedly and asked me to meet you privately."

"Mr. Brighton," Smith motioned him to sit down, "I have been wanting to talk to you."

"Oh?" Brighton adjusted his tie elegantly. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Let's talk about this farce," Smith blew out a smoke ring, "Tsarist Russia suddenly expressed strong dissatisfaction with our military actions, and you tried your best to persuade the Prime Minister to keep things quiet..."

“Is there any problem with that?” Brighton smiled. “As the Prime Minister’s senior adviser, it is my duty to avoid unnecessary diplomatic conflicts.”

“Yes,” Smith said meaningfully, “you did a good job. So good that…it gave some people enough time to get out.”

Brighton's expression remained calm: "General, what do you mean by this?"

"You know what?" Smith suddenly changed the subject, "I have always admired Chinese Go. The art of layout is truly breathtaking."

Brighton's fingers trembled slightly.

"Especially those seemingly unrelated chess pieces," Smith continued, "which appear to be placed for a certain purpose, but are actually used to cover up actions in another place. What do you think of this method?"

"The general seems to be very knowledgeable about Eastern culture," Brighton said with a smile, "but I know nothing about Go."

"Really?" Smith looked Brighton in the eye. "How much do you know about the term 'divert attention'?"

The atmosphere in the box suddenly became solemn.

"General Smith," Blyton put down his teacup, "if you asked me to come here to say these specious things..."

"No," interrupted Smith, "I asked you to come here to tell you something."

He took out a photo and put it on the table: "This is a photo of Colonel Wilson at the Port of Liverpool a week ago. Take a look at the man next to him. Does he look familiar?"

Brighton's pupils contracted slightly. In the photo, Wilson was talking to a man with an oriental face.

"I don't understand what you mean," said Brighton, trying to be calm. "What does this have to do with me?"

"Of course it is related," Smith said with a meaningful smile, "because this Oriental man appeared at your inauguration ceremony three years ago. At that time, he attended as a diplomat of the Chinese Embassy in the UK."

Brayton's fingers trembled again.

"Mr. Brighton," Smith stood up, "I am not here to arrest you today. On the contrary, I am here to remind you that some chess moves, if played too perfectly, will attract attention."

After saying that, he turned and left, leaving Brighton sitting there alone with a gloomy look on his face.

Soon, an encrypted telegram was sent from London to Dragon's Nest:

"Urgent report! Smith has noticed. He just used Wilson's matter to test me, and he obviously has some evidence. This person is more dangerous than we thought. Request instructions! - Longyan"

MI6 headquarters, the Commander's office.

"Are you crazy?" Sir Robert slammed the report on the table. "Brighton is the Prime Minister's most trusted senior adviser! His family has had a century-long influence in English politics!"

"It is precisely because of his identity that he is more suspicious," Smith said solemnly, "I have obtained some evidence..."

"Evidence?" Robert sneered. "Are you talking about that blurry photo? Just because a Chinese diplomat showed up at his inauguration three years ago? Can that be considered evidence?"

"Not only that," Smith said eagerly, "just think about it, every time there is a cabinet meeting involving China policy, Brighton always makes the most 'pertinent' suggestions. And these suggestions..."

"That's enough!" Robert interrupted sharply. "Every suggestion Brighton made was for England's benefit. It is because of his foresight that we have been able to take the initiative in many diplomatic occasions."

"But......"

"Smith," Robert's tone became stern, "you are our best counterintelligence expert, but you really went astray this time. People like Brighton are destined to work for England since birth. His father is a privy councilor, his grandfather is a foreign minister, and his great-grandfather is..."

"The more prominent one's status is, the easier it is to use it as a cover," Smith said unwillingly, "The Chinese are best at..."

"Enough!" Robert stood up suddenly. "Do you know how important Brighton is to the Prime Minister? Do you know how much contribution he has made to England? Just because of some ambiguous evidence, you doubt such a meritorious minister?"

Smith wanted to say something, but Robert waved his hand: "That's the end of the matter. I don't want to hear any more suspicion against Brighton. Your task now is to continue tracking down Wilson's whereabouts."

"But sir..."

"This is an order!" Robert said sternly, "If you continue to bother about Brighton, I will have to consider whether to adjust your position."

Smith clenched his fists, but finally saluted silently and turned away.

As he walked out of the office, he heard Robert's warning from behind him: "Remember, some people cannot be doubted. This is not only related to personal honor, but also to the dignity of the entire England."

Smith sneered. In his opinion, it was this inherent arrogance and prejudice that gave the opponent an opportunity to take advantage of. Those who were born into prominent families and held high positions often became the best cover.

"How is it?" Thompson asked in a low voice outside the office.

"As expected," Smith said coldly, "They would rather believe that a nobleman is always loyal than admit that their confidant may be a pawn of the enemy."

"Then we..."

"Continue to investigate," Smith's eyes flashed with a cold light, "but be more careful. Now we must not only beware of the enemy, but also our own people."

At this moment, he suddenly thought of something: "By the way, check Robert's recent social circle for me. I want to see who whispered what in his ear..."

At this moment, Brighton's secret letter has been sent to the Dragon's Nest:

"The crisis has been temporarily resolved. As you expected, their arrogance has become the best cover. No one would believe that a noble who has been loyal to England for generations would be a pawn of another country. However, Smith is indeed a difficult person, so it is recommended to make arrangements as soon as possible. - Longyan"