A decade later, Victor stood with a much rounder man in the port of Shanghai, looking toward the docks at crates being loaded off the large ship. The air was heavy with the smell of saltwater and diesel, the hum of machinery in the air as Victor's sharp eyes scanned the activity around him.How many crates is that?" he asked; his voice showed steady, though a hint of suspicion was not absent in the tone.The man standing beside him-the one in the ill-fitting suit that strained against his bulk-wiped the sweat from his brow. "Twenty-five thousand crates, worth about thirty million dollars.Victor grumbled, while he was not happy. "It is not about the money," he said to me, eyes fixed on the workers. "I just hope it's not like last time. I was short by nearly five thousand crates. That kind of mistake just cannot happen again.The man laughed but his face fell serious. "I still do not understand how that happened. We checked the numbers. Everything was right on paper."Yeah, well, it's
Stephen sat opposite Victor in the cramped office at the back of the pharmacy. There was no noise but the 'tick-tick' of the wall clock. Stephen leaned back, crossing his arms. His glasses reflected the dim light of the office, though his eyes never left Victor's."I wasn't expecting you," Stephen finally said in hushed tones.Victor gave him a taut smile, one that didn't reach the eyes. "Neither was I planning on visiting."Stephen furrowed his brow, not knowing where this was leading to. "So, what do you want, Victor?"Victor squirmed in his chair; his keen eyes locked with Stephen's. "It's simple. Someone's been stealing from me. Messing with my business."Stephen's eyebrow rose, but he kept still. "You are accusing me of something? You think I know about it?"Victor shook his head. "No, I'm not here for that."Stephen waited, watching him closely. "Then why are you here? You don't have to come all the way out here to tell me somebody's messing with your business."Victor sighed, r
Enoch sat opposite a businessman, tension between them now replaced with agreement. The man slid the paper across the table, and Enoch grabbed the pen in his firm hand and signed his name."It's nice to be in business with you," the businessman said calmly but firmly.Enoch gave a slight nod, extending his hand. They shook them, firm grips. As they did, there was the flash of cameras popping in the background to capture the moment for the press. Enoch straightened his suit, adjusting his tie-all neutral for the cameras. But inside, his mind was already moving to the next task.The instant the photographs were taken, Enoch turned and went toward his office. His gait was measured and sure, as if all that was around him was already accounted for. The din of the press was dampened behind him as he swung the door open to his office, softly closing it behind him.Inside, the room was in silence. Enoch let out a deep breath, relaxing into his chair. He leaned back, staring up at the ceiling
The door creaked open, and Enoch's assistant peeked in, a little sheepish. "Sir, the package has come."Victor and Stephen exchanged a quick look. Silent, Enoch stood, his face set, and walked out of the office. The stride now was brisker, more confident, without the casualness that had marked their progress to this point. Victor and Stephen went directly behind Enoch.As they neared the place of delivery, Enoch noticed a tall man standing beside a crate, looking apparently uneasy. The man was all soaked in sweat, and his hands were quivering along his sides."Biggy?" Victor stuttered, quite surprised and suspicious all at once. The man began to flinch upon the pronouncement of his name and darting his eyes from Victor to Enoch."W-what are you doing here?" Biggy stuttered out, his voice shaking in fear.Enoch turned to Victor, whose eyes had now narrowed. "You know him?"Victor nodded, his face going hard. "Biggy works for me. He's in charge of the distribution of my goods."Stephen
The door creaked open, and Enoch's assistant peered inside a bit warily. "Sir, the package has arrived."Victor and Stephen exchanged a wordless glance. In dead silence, Enoch rose to his feet, his face somber, and strode from the office. He moved more rapidly now, urgency the counterpoint to confident expectation. Victor and Stephen were hard on his heels.As they drew near the delivery area, Enoch noticed a towering man beside a crate, shifting uneasily. He was sweating profusely, with twitching hands hanging at his sides."Biggy?" Victor called in surprise and suspicion. He started at the mention of his name, darting his eyes between Victor and Enoch."W-what are you doing here?" he stuttered low, as fear wrapped itself around his vocal cords.Enoch turned to Victor, his eyes slanting. "You know him?"Victor nodded, his face hard. "Biggy works for me. He is in charge of the distribution for my goods."Stephen took another step closer, his eyes warily eyeing Biggy. Biggy's face lost
Enoch's throat dried, and he stammered, "I. uh, there's nothing wrong, officer. We're just—"The cop raised an eyebrow. "You sound nervous. You got something you're not telling us?"Stephen stepped in, his voice cool and firm. "Officer, if I may ask, what's the purpose of your presence here?"The policeman regarded him for a moment, then nodded. "We're here about a friend of yours. Clarke."Clarke?" Enoch exclaimed in confusion. "What does he want this time?"The officer shrugged. "He just wanted to see you, Enoch. Said it was urgent."Stephen exchanged a quick glance with Victor before turning back to the officer. "May we tag along?"The policeman was silent for a second before nodding his head. "You may, but keep no secrets."Stephen let out a relieved sigh. "We will, officer. Shall we?The men left the building, following the officers out as they tried to keep their anxiety in check. The ride to the station was tense, with each of them lost to himself. Stephen tried to anticipate w
Victor stood outside the club, his scowl deepening. They were actually going through with Clarke's plan. After all the lies he'd told them, he thought they'd dismiss him, yet here he was.Clarke had said Caesar's right-hand man came to this club every afternoon. The catch? Only one of them could go in without raising suspicion. And of course, they picked Victor.He laid his hand over the transmitter in his ear and growled, "Why do you always pick me?"Enoch's voice crackled through the airpod. "You're the one who knows how dealers move. You've been in the game."Victor scowled. "What does that even mean?"Before Enoch could answer, Stephen interrupted him. "Focus. We don't have time for this.Sighing, Victor adjusted his jacket, then strode toward the door. Just as he reached it, a huge bouncer stepped in his way, blocking him. "Entry card," the bouncer grunted, arms crossed.Victor forced a smile. "Uh, about that. I kind of lost it. But maybe we could work something out." He reached
They stepped into the VVIP section, and the ambiance was different immediately-quieter, more tensed. The flashing light and loud music from the club outside were dulled outside, which made the space more exclusive, more dangerous. Stephen scanned the room, tapped his ear then. "Enoch, keep an eye out for anyone entering from the CCTV outside."Silence.Stephen's eyes narrowed. "Enoch, can you hear me?"Still nothing.Victor glanced at him, frowning. "What's wrong?"Comms are dead," Stephen muttered. "Either the signal's being jammed or something else is blocking us."Victor let out a sigh. "Guess we're on our own now."Just then, his attention, along with that of Stephen, was caught toward the middle of the room where a Chinese man sat cross-legged on a raised couch while two women fed him drinks. His eyes, cold and calculating, fixed upon them.Welcome, gentlemen," he said, his lip curling. Smooth underestimated his voice; it oozed with confidence. "I assume you're here for me?"Vict