Starting from South America, speeding through the world

Chapter 72 Suddenly a madman sharpens his knife at night
The evening breeze carried a hint of the seaside scent, blowing in from the east of the city.

The poplar trees creaked under the wind, and the frost clinging to their bare branches trembled, casting their shadows obliquely onto the peeling cement wall.

Zhou Yi lit a cigarette at the hotel entrance, his gaze sweeping across the street to the shutter door of the barbershop.

A newly issued tax notice was pasted on the glass, with the four corners taped shut with transparent tape.

The smoke dissipated with each breath. Zhou Yi adjusted his coat collar, put his hands in his pockets, and walked away into the distance.

Eight fifteen.

There was less than an hour left before the agreed meeting time.

Zhou Yi had already scouted the area during the day, and this trip was just to conduct a final check.

The hotel was five blocks from the bar, but you had to walk through an old park and two nearly abandoned factories.

There was a street lamp at the street corner, which flickered weakly twice before going out after Zhou Yi passed by.

The alley grew narrower and narrower, painted with faded blue anti-rust paint and covered with various advertising posters.

Some signs advertised buying used cars, while others displayed election slogans, with dates dating back two years.

Turn right again, and you'll see the alley behind the bar.

There's a backup plan—if something unexpected happens at today's meeting.

Zhou Yi stopped and observed the surrounding activity.

Nothing unusual.

The iron gate was ajar, and behind it were several discarded beer barrels.

A emaciated cat suddenly appeared out of nowhere, flicked its tail, and disappeared back into the darkness.

Eight fifty.

It's almost time.

Zhou Yi walked around the alley once, then pushed open the door at the other end and entered.

The bar lights were the same as before, and the air was filled with the smell of cheap cigarettes.

Yuri was already sitting in the corner against the wall, wearing the same old wool coat from yesterday, with his scarf draped behind him.

The bartender, with a pained expression, looked up when he heard someone come in.

Upon recognizing Zhou Yi, she gave him a smile that could barely be described as enthusiastic.

"Come sit here." Yuri beckoned to Zhou Yi.

Zhou Yi walked over, sat down opposite him, and took off his coat, draping it over the back of the chair.

Yuri had already ordered beer, and there were a few slices of rye bread and a small plate of pickled cucumbers on the table.

“Good news,” Yuri said, handing over the cigarette case. “The mission is on. The employer heard about your performance last night from me and is willing to give you a chance.”

Zhou Yi pulled out a cigarette, lit it with a lighter, and took a deep drag: "What exactly is the situation?"

Yuri took a brown paper bag from the inside pocket of his coat, untied the drawstring, and poured out the contents.

Three ID photos.

They were all men in military uniforms.

“Three targets.” Yuri pointed to the photos. “They’re all in Kherson. I won’t mention their names, just recognize their faces.”

"This is the deputy brigade commander of the 72nd Motorized Rifle Brigade, in charge of logistics, a former Soviet soldier."

"The man next to him is a lieutenant colonel, deputy director of the reserve troop station management center."

"Finally, this young man, his rank is not high, he is a lieutenant, and it is unclear what he does specifically, but it is probably related to entry and exit approvals."

“Quite a few people,” Zhou Yi said, picking up his glass and taking a sip. “How’s the pay?”

"150,000 US dollars, cash payment, one-time settlement."

Zhou Yi frowned instantly. "This number is quite outrageous."

Yuri noticed his confusion and decided to explain:
"Don't think this is a good job that everyone is eager to do."

"These three are tough guys."

"Take the lieutenant colonel for example. He's a paratrooper, he's been in combat, he's a tough guy."

"Besides, our employer has some special conditions." "What conditions?"

"No matter what, they can't die quietly; they have to be seen and talked about."

"A high-profile operation," Zhou Yi nodded, offering his assessment.

"Of course, that's why I said it's perfect for you—yesterday's shot was enough to prove your worth. Employers value the means, not the quantity."

Zhou Yi pushed the photo back into the envelope and leaned back in his chair.

"This employer sounds like a big shot?"

Yuri smiled meaningfully, without giving a direct answer.

"I guarantee it's much bigger than you can imagine."

So, your idea is—

Zhou Yi didn't press further. After thinking for a moment, he asked, "When will it begin?"

Seeing that the deal was done, Yuri clapped his hands excitedly: "There's no time to lose, let's do it now."

As he spoke, he pointed out the window, "The driver of that car over there is already waiting. We'll be in Kherson in three hours."

"It's too rushed. I haven't done any preliminary research yet."

“Didn’t I tell you? The employer isn’t some novice who made this decision on a whim.” Yuri’s tone was relaxed. “He had everything arranged in advance: intelligence, reconnaissance, and personnel deployment.”

"You'll find out what it is once you get on the bus."

"Is someone still following me?"

"Don't worry, that person is very professional and won't interfere with your task."

Zhou Yi lowered his head, finished the last puff of his cigarette, and stubbed it out in the cup.

"Then I'm going."

Yuri stood up with a smile and downed the remaining half-glass of beer in one gulp. "I put in a lot of good words for you with your employer, don't let him down."

Anyway, good luck, buddy.

When the signal was connected, Mikhail was standing on the balcony.

"I guess you've already met him."

It was Boris's voice, almost mocking.

Mikhail did not respond immediately.

He looked at the gardener sweeping the garden, sighed, remained silent for a long time, and then replied, "Just as you expected."

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end, followed by a soft chuckle.

"How many years have you been with him? Seven? Eight?"

Nine years.

"So what did he give you? Trust? Shares? Or a pre-prepared will?"

Mikhail didn't respond, but instead said, "He's become weak and looks even more tired."

“Tired?” Boris repeated, “No, it’s that he no longer trusts anyone, especially you promoted people. He’s afraid you’ll go further than him.”

Mikhail's Adam's apple bobbed, but he did not refute.

The gardener below was slowly pushing the stagnant water and fallen leaves to the roadside with a shovel.

"Tonight, I can give you what you want, including copies of the telegrams for all major transport missions up to December."

“That’s enough for you to do a lot of things,” Mikhail continued.
"Especially the light guided weapons that have been transferred out in the last two weeks, and a batch of stockpiled goods from Moldova, packing list, transfer number, escort unit - I will give them to you."

"."

Boris was stunned by this series of messages and spent a considerable amount of time reorganizing his thoughts:

"Are you sure this is just a matter of 'still considering whether or not to betray'?"

"of course."

(End of this chapter)