Chapter 140
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The sharp tapping sound had never been so pleasant!
His agitated mood also gradually subsided. What could thirty thousand dollars do?
Chief Charlie took off his hat and scratched the back of his head. He could buy two not-so-good detached villas in the Bay Area, or a well-located detached villa with a pool and garden.
Even if he spent ten dollars a day, he wouldn’t have to worry about expenses for ten years.
How old would he be in ten years?
His eyes seemed to wander. That’s how it is when one gets old: lack of focus, easily distracted.
Seeing that Chief Charlie’s eyes had lost focus, the Assistant Chief coughed.
This sound brought Chief Charlie’s soul back from God. “What did you just say?”
As an old partner, the Assistant Chief was not at all surprised by his question. “I mean, let them fight it out within a controllable area.”
“After they’re done fighting, our people will go in immediately and arrest those ‘murderers.’ This way, we give an explanation to the citizens and to our police badge.”
“It’s not that we are unwilling to intervene in advance, it’s that there is absolutely no way.”
As he spoke, police cars were already leaving the police station, their sirens wailing. The Assistant Chief walked to the window, pushed aside the blinds, and watched the police cars driving away.
“Their continuous troublemaking will only make the situation uglier.”
“Compared to rampant serious crimes, I think it’s more appropriate to keep everything within a controllable range.”
It was unclear which sentence convinced Chief Charlie, or perhaps it was the table-tapping that represented thirty thousand dollars. He took out his pipe, stuffed a little tobacco, pressed it down methodically, and lit it.
After two sharp puffs, he took a deep breath. The room was filled with the smell of tobacco, but it wasn’t very foul.
“Everything within a controllable range?”
The Assistant Chief nodded, repeating it like a truism, but this time it was a definitive statement, “Everything is within a controllable range!”
Heller, who was waiting for news, put his tea-colored glasses back on. The room was filled with senior and ordinary cadres, all waiting for news.
No one spoke, and the atmosphere was very tense.
There were still plenty of banknotes on the table in front of Heller. These people had received enough money, and everyone’s face showed an indescribable expression, like… a look of smugness mixed with ruthlessness.
Suddenly, the phone rang, startling some people!
Heller was too, but he didn’t show it; his heart clearly skipped a beat the moment the phone rang!
He picked up the phone, and then a dazed voice sounded. “We agree in principle with your idea, but you must first resolve the situation outside. I don’t want anyone else reporting serious incidents in the Empire District.”
“Also, let your people stay in the police station; that’s the price you have to pay.”
“It’s still too early; between three and five o’clock, you must resolve the battle.”
“Additionally, there must be… twenty people left at the scene. We need to give an explanation to the citizens.”
Heller thought for a while after hearing this. “That’s too many people to take the fall, ten people.”
The person on the other end also considered it for a moment, seemingly unwilling to haggle with him. “Twelve or thirteen, perhaps. Too few wouldn’t be acceptable.”
“No problem.”
After he hung up, everyone’s gaze was fixed on Heller. He looked at the senior cadres, and then at the others.
“Between three and five o’clock tonight, that’s our time.”
“Also, find twelve people to take the fall, six hundred dollars per person per year.”
Going to jail was also a business.
In the Federation, some people specialized in serving jail time for others, earning roughly five or six hundred dollars a year, and some immigrants were also willing to do this.
For short terms, like six months, a year, or a year and a half, quite a few people were willing.
They couldn’t earn that kind of money outside, but they could in jail, not only getting free food and lodging but also meeting many friends with various skills. This was arguably a lifestyle.
The senior cadres knew what Heller meant. They had to divide these numbers. Five senior cadres would split twelve spots, giving each two, with two left over.
Perhaps noticing their gaze, Heller frowned. “Two each for you, and two for me.”
“Have the weapons arrived?”
The cadre responsible for purchasing firearms nodded. “Arriving soon…”
“Very good. I’ll take a nap. Wake me at two-thirty.”
He stood up, stretched, and walked towards the small door in the back, where there was a lounge.
After a night of frustration, he could finally get some good rest.
During the night, countless phones rang when they shouldn’t have. Some senior gang cadres began to restrain their subordinates, telling them not to approach the “triangle area,” which was the location of Lance Financial.
Although they didn’t explicitly say anything, these people knew that there was a high probability of a large-scale shootout there.
This kind of thing didn’t happen so often in Golden Port. It used to happen frequently when the five major families were not yet “the five major families” and were vying for that distinction.
Since the five major families established their status here, this kind of customary shootout rarely occurred, which also made many young people very excited!
Although their captains and cadres told them not to get involved, who could control themselves?
Everyone wanted to see what kind of shootout such a large-scale event would be!
As the underground emperor of this city, Mr. Pasoretto also received a call from a broker. “There’s a shootout in the triangle area tonight. If you have anyone there, it’s best to tell them not to run around.”
Mr. Pasoretto was still entertaining when he heard this news, and he was a bit surprised, as it hadn’t happened much in the past two years.
He was also a bit curious. “Who with whom?”
“The Camille gang and some small family, called… Lance…”
He tried to prompt. “Lance?”
“Yes, Lance Family, a small family. Do you know them?”
Mr. Pasoretto didn’t deny it. “Met once, very interesting young man…” He pondered for a moment, clarified the time, and agreed to meet for tea when they were both free next time, though it was actually an indefinite arrangement, then hung up.
He then picked up the phone again and called Alberto.
Alberto was now enjoying his nightlife at a bar. The Summurians had only a few preferred things, and he could find almost all of them here.
Fordis walked up to him and bent down. He was lying on the sofa, with a girl serving him.
“The boss told you that the Camille gang and Lance are going to have a shootout tonight in the triangle area, between three and five o’clock.”
Alberto initially didn’t react; this new girl’s technique was too good, forcing him to concentrate, otherwise he might lose face.
He certainly didn’t want to become the bar’s laughingstock the next day—that strong Mr. Alberto Coti couldn’t even last three minutes!
But his rationality still had a sliver of breathing room under the siege of alcohol and waves of pleasure. A few seconds later, he suddenly reacted.
“Who did you say?” He turned to look at Fordis.
“The Camille gang, and Lance.”
“Shit!” He pushed the girl away, re-tied his belt, stood up, and strode towards the stairs. The office was on the third floor.
He went into the office, lit a cigarette, then found Lance’s business card and dialed the number.
“Are you in the triangle area?”
Lance vaguely had a premonition that this was related to Liam’s death. “Yes, I’m in the triangle area. What’s wrong?”
“The Camille gang applied for a shootout. The police department will soon clear the area for your shootout, do you know?”
“A shootout… can be applied for?” Lance heard this for the first time. “I don’t know, no one told me!”
His voice didn’t sound like he was lying. Alberto calmed down at this point. “Listen, after three o’clock, they’ll come to you. Are there many police outside your door?”
Lance took the phone cord and walked to the window. He had someone turn off the lights and looked outside.
There were many police officers standing outside, but they didn’t intend to come in; they seemed to be just guarding the place.
“Is it still time for me to leave?”
“Several police cars outside the door…” He had Elvin check the back alley. Elvin soon returned and told him there were two police cars in the back alley too. “Back alley too.”
Alberto shook his head, though Lance couldn’t see it. “They most likely won’t let you leave.”
“Wait for my call; I’ll ask about the situation.”
Lance hung up the phone and frowned. He turned the lights back on. “Alberto told me the Camille gang is coming to fight us soon,” his gaze moved across their faces, finally resting on the two girls.
“You two see if you can leave. If they let you, go home as soon as possible.”
“If they don’t let you leave, come back quickly.”
The two girls changed their clothes and left the company somewhat anxiously.
As soon as they stepped out the door, a police officer approached them. “There’s been an incident here. Until we investigate it thoroughly, you’d best stay in this building.”
One of the girls said, “We’re off work now. We want to go home!”
The police officer’s expression was cold, and his voice got a bit louder. “I repeat, please return to your building.”
The surrounding police officers heard the noise and gathered around. Seeing that the situation wasn’t right, Lance pushed open the door and stepped out.
“Excuse me, they don’t know what happened. Can you tell me your name?” Lance actively stepped between the two girls and the police.
The dim streetlights couldn’t illuminate everything here, but they allowed them to see each other’s eyes, reflecting some light.
The police officer’s attitude seemed to soften a bit. “This has nothing to do with you. Please return to the building, sir.”
Lance smiled, and whether the other party saw it or not, he nodded slightly and led the two girls back into the room.
Only when they returned did the police officers leave again.
Lance told them the current situation. He raised his wrist and glanced at his watch. “You have over three hours until three o’clock. We need to do something.”
“I remember the filing cabinets are made of iron?”
Elvin nodded quickly. “Yes, they’re all iron.”
Lance walked towards the archive room. “Come on, lend a hand. Take things out and block up some windows and doors.”
He had considered forcing his way out, but the police would definitely stop him. If he opened fire, it would be a felony in the Federation, with a minimum of ten years.
If he accidentally killed someone in the conflict, he might even end up in the electric chair.
Soon the phone rang again; it was Alberto.
“They say you took out Liam of the Camille gang, right outside his Red Heels club?”
Lance was a bit speechless after hearing this. “He wanted to kill me, so I killed him first. I don’t think there’s any problem with that.”
“No problem, no problem. Now Heller is cornered by his cadres and can’t back down; he has no choice but to do this.”
“Many people are watching this shootout. Do you have weapons there?”
Lance turned and asked Hiram; Hiram had been managing the weapons during this period. Then he said to Alberto, “Yes, but not many. The rest are hidden at my residence.”
Alberto licked his lips. “I’ll arrange for people to send some over to you.”
“I can’t help you with anything else on this matter. Heller, to force the police department to compromise, had his people commit crimes desperately in the Empire District and nearby. To control the situation, you were sacrificed by the police department.”
“That’s roughly the situation. Now, unless someone like Senator William or the mayor, who hold significant core power in this city, speaks for you, no one can change the outcome of this matter.”
“And I heard the mayor knows too, but he hasn’t made any other statement. He tacitly approved. Do you understand what I mean?”
Lance was silent for a while after hearing this. “I understand what you mean. Everyone thinks we’ll lose, so exchanging our dozens of lives for Heller’s compromise is well worth it.”
“Although I don’t want to admit it, you’re right, Lance, you’re too weak, and so am I, so I can’t help you, except to send you some weapons and ammunition.”
Lance actually didn’t feel much anger or sadness at this moment; he had experienced these emotions many times in his previous life.
When you are still very weak, anyone can come and step on you. Only when you grow strong enough to make them fear you will they communicate with you as equals.
“Regardless, Alberto, thank you for your help. I owe you a huge favor!”
“After this is over, as long as you say the word, I can help you with anything!”
Alberto chuckled twice. “I don’t think this is your endpoint, Lance. I trust my intuition. Waiting for your good news!”
The call ended quickly. Lance sat at the table and, after a while, lit a cigarette.
If one could live a happy life without striving, who would want to strive?
Wasn’t striving hard and tiring?
Ask those who strive, are they truly willing?
Wasn’t everything forced?
Lance just wanted to lead everyone to a better life, to earn money, to spend money, not to be bullied, but… why was it so difficult?
He took a deep drag from his cigarette. The feeling of his lungs being filled with smoke was exceptionally fulfilling.
After a few seconds, he slowly exhaled the smoke.
The others had already used the few filing cabinets to block the windows. They also overturned some tables to create makeshift fortifications.
Having done all this, everyone gathered around again.
“Are you scared?”
Lance asked, with his legs crossed.
Most said no, a few remained silent.
He looked up at them, laughing heartily. “You’re all lying. Actually, I know you’re all more or less scared. I’m scared too.”
“But fear won’t solve the problem. Fear will only make our enemies more arrogant.”
He picked up the phone, then put it back down. “Alberto just told me that everyone in the city is betting against us, and they all think we’ll lose.”
“I, for one, never believe in fate, because I always feel that my destiny should be decided by myself.”
“Whether alive or dead, it should be decided by me, not by them!”
“They want to decide my destiny?”
“Simple, kill me first.”
“But I’m not the kind of person who won’t fight back. If anyone wants to kill me, they better be prepared to be killed by me!”
“Today they think we’re a tough nut to crack, so we must make them lose a few teeth!”
Their visibly low morale began to rise again. Lance flicked his cigarette.
The sparks from the cigarette butt hitting the wall momentarily lit up the surroundings, but only for a flash.
“Alberto’s people will send weapons over later. Today, we’ll teach them a lesson. Don’t you f**ing always think others are easy to bully. Let’s f**ing do this!”
Ten minutes later, Fordis drove up, and the police stopped him on the street.
“I’m Mr. Pasoretto’s man, here to deliver some things.”
The police officer shone a light on his face, and then two more police officers arrived, one of whom Fordis found vaguely familiar, possibly having seen him somewhere before.
That person motioned for the police officer with the light to lower his lamp, then asked, “What are you delivering?”
“Food and drinks.”
“Can I take a look?”
Fordis didn’t refuse.
The officer walked to the back of the car and looked inside. It was full of various weapons. He then opened the car door and took out four fragmentation grenades. “These aren’t allowed. I’ll give them back to you when you return.”
“Also, you can’t stay here,” he said, signaling to the other officers to let him pass, then he himself stood by the roadside.
Fordis nodded. “Thanks.”
The car quickly stopped at the company entrance. He greeted them, and Lance had people come out to help move the items inside.
“Over a dozen submachine guns, the rest are handguns, plus bullets and magazines…”
Fordis pulled Lance aside. “They won’t all come. You still have a great chance…”
“I originally brought four small papayas for you, but they were taken away.”
“Thank you, Fordis, I owe you a favor.”
Fordis said nothing. He hugged Lance. “Waiting for your good news…”
