Capítulo 1395: Chapter 671: Bastard, You Bastard!
In the office at the National Palace, cigar smoke surged in the morning light, and Victor’s brow was furrowed, Rodriguez’s na had been marked with three red slashes.
Casare’s beer belly hit the edge of the desk with a dull thud, he paced back and forth pulling his hair, the curse words from his mouth exploding like a barrage.
“Fuck Khun Sa!” Casare kicked over the tal trash can, cans and cigarette butts rolled all over the floor, “The six bodies aren’t even cold yet!”
He suddenly turned around, his eyes red as if they were about to bleed, “Boss, launch the missiles! Turn the kong River banks to scorched earth! I request deploying the missile brigade, three units of incendiary bombs, ensuring those bastards don’t even have bone fragnts left!”
Victor slowly raised his head, ash falling on the button of his army-green shirt.
He stared at the world map on the wall, the position of the Golden Triangle circled in red pen like a sinister blood hole, next to it a line of small writing in pencil: 200 kiloters west of the East Great Border Line.
“Do you want xico’s avocados to rot at the port?” Victor’s voice was rough, “Or do you want Tesla’s assembly plants to imdiately shut down?”
“Look at this! The Asian Bank just approved a 7 billion loan for us, collateralized by the Yucatan Peninsula’s oil and gas fields! Do you think those yellow-skinned businessn will sit by as we drop missiles in their backyard?”
“So just endure?”
Victor pulled out a black folder from the drawer, tossing it heavily onto the desk, its cover embossed with a golden Hydra emblem, “Last night, the Intelligence Bureau happened upon soone alive in Colombia, Khun Sa’s treasurer, reportedly holding the entire group’s accounts.”
He pointed at the photo inside the folder with his cigar, a man in a silk shirt was hanging from a beam, below the knees already a blur of blood and flesh, “This bastard confessed, he said it was all Zhang Quan’s doing, Zhang Quan is Khun Sa’s right-hand man, handling all the biological agent channels, and moreover—”
Victor paused, exhaled a smoke ring, “This old thing’s a lover of won, especially those with scars.”
Casare suddenly stopped pacing, a flash of ruthlessness in his eyes, “Boss, you an…”
“Let Hydra’s people take action.”
Victor pressed the cigar against Khun Sa’s photo, the ember burned a black hole into the wrinkled face, “Find a suitable woman, she needs to be ruthless, beautiful enough, ideally with so knowledge of chemistry. Zhang Quan’s been tinkering with a new anthrax strain, sure to be interested in this type, tell her that if it works, three years on xico City’s jewelry street are hers, and if not enough, have the Treasury Departnt supplent with two boxes of gold bricks.”
Casare’s breathing gradually grew heavy, he bent down to pick up a cigarette butt from the floor, stuffing it into his mouth and chewing it fiercely, “What does the Intelligence Bureau say? Do they have a station in Yangon?”
“Already given a heads up.”
Victor pulled open a drawer, tossed out another stack of docunts, “Inside is all of Zhang Quan’s details, five years ago he kept three strippers in Bangkok, last year he killed a pregnant mistress in Chiang Mai, threw the body into the kong River. On the surface, he’s loyal to Khun Sa, but he’s long since transferred the group’s opium profits to a Swiss Bank, the password is his deceased daughter’s birthday.”
He suddenly laughed, “Tell Hydra, no need to be polite with him, first use seduction to extract intel, then get Khun Sa’s itinerary!”
Casare nodded vigorously, “What if Zhang Quan doesn’t take the bait? That old fox is reportedly absurdly cautious, constantly surrounded by four bodyguards, never without a gun.”
“A hunter is more patient than the prey.” Victor looked at him and said.
…
Three days later, in Bangkok’s Red Light District, neon lights dyed the rain strands into colorful ribbons.
In the alley behind the “Poison Snake” bar, a woman in a black slip dress crushed a cigarette butt under her high heel, a scar stretched from her brow bone to jaw on her left cheek, under the purple lights it looked like a wriggling little snake.
Opposite her stood a xican operative.
The woman took the photo handed over by the agent, her fingertips brushed Zhang Quan’s scarred face.
“Zhang Quan will co here for whiskey at ten tonight, he likes to sit at the third table by the window, when ordering he’ll tap the table three tis with his left ring finger, that’s his signal to inspect goods.”
Ruth Gabriel suddenly laughed, the scar twisting into a strange shape in the laughter lines, “Don’t worry, I know how to get him to stick his tongue in my glass.”
She pulled open the neckline of her slip dress, revealing her alabaster shoulder, “What about you guys, if I die in the Golden Triangle, make sure to scatter my ashes on Wall Street, I hear that’s where money slls the strongest.”
The agent stared at the tattoo on her collarbone, “Khun Sa’s guard corps are all desperados, they like playing the ga of skinning people alive.”
“More ruthless than the drug traffickers I’ve t in the Sonora Desert?”
Ruth Gabriel suddenly stopped smiling, “Three years ago in Juarez City, I was tied up in a slaughterhouse by seven n, the only one to walk out alive was .”
She pulled out a folding knife, twirling it beautifully between her fingers, “Zhang Quan’s matter, I’ll handle it.”
At ten o’ seven in the evening, the bar’s wooden door was pushed open, a breeze carrying the dampness of the kong River swept in with rain strands.
Zhang Quan wore a black trench coat, the collar stood high, four bodyguards guarded the door like the Eiffel Tower, hands always on the guns in their holsters.
He glanced at the whole room, his gaze paused on Ruth Gabriel’s face for three seconds, then walked straight toward the third table by the window.
Ruth Gabriel carried two glasses of whiskey over, high heels clicking crisply on the floor. She deliberately staggered a bit, spilling the liquor on Zhang Quan’s trench coat’s front lapel (so damn cliché!).
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