The Anderson Asheards tailor shop on Savile Row in London, England is brightly lit.
It was ten o'clock in the evening, and Andersonasheards had never tried to leave the door unclosed so late, and the tailor Ayjol sat at the table, looking from time to time at the old wall clock on the wall, and from time to time glancing out of the door.
Clearly, he was waiting for an extremely important guest.
With 1o to 15 workshops on Savile Row, Savile Row has been known as the mecca of menswear tailoring around the world for 200 years.
High-ranking dignitaries and wealthy businessmen from all over the world, as well as entertainment stars, have a set of handmade suits from Savile's top tailors as a status symbol.
Therefore, it is also known as the "temple of bespoke menswear", and the world's best menswear fabrics and top craftsmanship can be found here.
A Rollslass Phantom slowly pulls into Savile Street, in the back seat, David.
Finch stared intently at the laptop in front of him.
On the screen is a photograph of a black-headed Oriental, and the information column next to it shows: Name: Long Yun, African Ghost Group mercenary, male, 2o years old, Han nationality: Chinese ancestry: third-level mixed race.
It took him a while to come out of his thoughts.
Close the computer, press the control button next to the seat, and slowly lower the black soundproof panel between the seat and the front seat.
"Chavez, have you arrived?"
"Here we are, Doctor."
The Rolls-Royce Phantom slowly stopped in front of the door of Andersonasheards, and Chavez got out of the car first, looked around vigilantly, and then walked to the back seat and pulled the car door.
"Dear Mr.
Finch, welcome to London again."
Seeing Finch pushing the door in, Ayol smiled enthusiastically, "How long are you going to travel to Europe this time?"
Ayol, a native Englishman, had become accustomed to a kind of urbane and somewhat serious style, and even though he had shown great enthusiasm, he still seemed a little reserved to Finch, an American who had emigrated to Ireland.
"I stayed in Italy for a week, and this time I came to the UK for two days and left."
Ayol shrugged, still smiling, and said, "Ah, for a foodie like you, these British fish and chips do make it hard for you to find a reason to stay." ” Finch smiled slightly: "But the clothes here are the best in the world" "And, of course, the tailors here."
He added.
Ayol bowed slightly, gladly accepting the compliment.
"Your clothes are ready.
Actually, you know very well that you have to wait at least 8 to 12 weeks to make clothes with us, and you still have to try them on twice, but Mr.
Finch, you are our guest of honor, and I already have your specific fit, otherwise I would not have made this suit for you in three days."
He chattered as Finch took off his coat and hung it gently on a hanger.
"This time, according to your request, the cloth is a 25o Saga suit.
I mean, Mr.
Finch, you're a connoisseur of the art of costume."
He carefully took out a gold-striped suit from the box, it was a three-piece suit, and Finch tried on the waistcoat and then the coat, and it felt very fit.
Apparently Finch loved the outfit, which is why he would rather travel all the way from the United States to get a suit customized.
In terms of Sheards' craftsmanship, it can only be regarded as third-rate, and those Armani and Jessia on the market are not even ranked.
While admiring the well-fitting cut in the mirror, Finch was now a little older, and the years had left some traces on his body, and a few crow's feet that had just climbed into the corners of his eyes were particularly obvious.
Even if he himself has a mysterious bloodline and is stronger than ordinary people, he still can't stop the engraving of time.
At this moment, he suddenly felt a little nostalgic for his youth.
"Doctor" Chavez broke into the store, he was originally in charge of guarding outside the store, so panicked, obviously a bit rude.
"Chavez, what is it that makes you so flustered" Finch obviously guessed a little, but he didn't know how serious the matter was, and maybe subconsciously hoped that it would be okay.
Chavez was obviously reluctant to talk about urgent business in front of Ayol, but only glanced at Ayol and did not speak.
Ayor was a man of interest and politeness, and he had long been accustomed to everything from the aristocracy, from the oil tycoons of the Middle East to the biggest names in the mad entertainment industry, in shops like Anderson Asheards.
Nodding politely and bowing slightly, Ayol said, "I'll make a cup of coffee in the back pantry."
He leaned on his waist exaggeratedly and yawned, "The shop is too busy today, and I'm so tired, I really need a good cup of royal coffee to refresh myself." ” He made an excuse for himself to sound very comfortable, and gave up the room to Finch and Chavez gracefully and decently.
"Thank you for your understanding, dear Ayol."
Finch apologized.
When Ayor disappeared behind the door, Finch took Chavez's phone and listened to it.
His relaxed face tauted, and it was clear that there was no pleasant news on the phone.
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A minute later, he hung up the phone, his expression grim.
Chavez asked tentatively, "Doctor, is what happened to the team we sent to Sierra Leone?"
Finch nodded, slowly sat down on the round stool, lifted his black-framed glasses, rubbed his temples and said: "It's a call from the company's headquarters, and the British side just informed us that the 16th Air Assault Brigade cannot be sent to reinforce Gege's group."
They're on their own now."
After a few moments, Finch made up his mind, walked to the pantry to say goodbye to Ayol, and said to Chavez, "We have to go, Chavez." ” The two hurried out and got into the car.
Chavez asked: "Now where are we going to fly Sierra Leone" Finch looked at his watch and said, "It's too late, I'm afraid there's already a fight on the Bo side, and I'm not worried about the three thousand rebels, but if the people of the Liberation Society get involved, I'm afraid things won't be so simple."
Don't forget, they also know how to use Chip calculations, and if the Sky Eye System can reveal the secrets of Sierra Leone, then the people of the Restoration Society will definitely not be unclear."
Chavez started the car, held the steering wheel, and waited for a while without seeing Finch speak, he rarely saw his boss so indecisive.
"Let's go, go to Whitehall 2."
The Rolls-Royce Phantom slowly left the front of the Andersonasheards door, and when the matter was urgent, Chavez sped up, and the car quickly disappeared at the end of the long street in the night
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