South America, Xin Embassy in Ecuador.
Because of the time difference, it was still late at night.
Zhang Yaping, who had just finished the meeting with the Colombian opposition representatives, was pacing back and forth in the reception room before he had time to change out of his formal clothes. He frequently looked up at the clock on the wall.
When he learned that someone planned to murder him, and it was the notorious CIB, he was shocked and angry.
Although it was not the first time he received a death threat, it was the first time he received a death threat from a third country during a diplomatic visit.
Finally, he was tired. He walked to the sofa in the reception room and sat down.
Zhang Yaping's fingers pressed between his eyebrows and he closed his eyes with a headache.
Just as he was sorting out his messy emotions, he suddenly made a sound, and his closed eyes opened with a hint of confusion.
"Why me?"
It was impossible for the CIB not to be aware of the current political environment of Xin.
Although Xin pursued a universal suffrage system, everyone knew that without the support of Celestial Trade, he could not win this election. Under the analysis of big data, Future Group could accurately push specific news to specific groups of people.
Under such circumstances, even if everyone cast a vote that they were satisfied with, the final result of this vote would be in line with the interests of Celestial Trade.
To put it bluntly, he was a puppet of Celestial Trade.
What was the use of assassinating a puppet? If he died in South America, the Vice President would immediately be able to take over Xin. In addition to causing the people of Xin to mourn and be angry, his death would not even cause the slightest chaos in the impregnable political situation.
Did the CIB want to provoke a war between Xin and the UA?
Zhang Yaping's expression was a little strange.
When all conditions were established, the most likely answer that could be obtained by analysis was the most unlikely result.
At this moment, his assistant knocked on the door of the reception room and walked in quickly with a phone.
"Sir, it's a call from the Presidential Palace …"
Zhang Yaping grabbed the phone from the assistant's hand and hurriedly asked.
"… What did he say!"
The voice on the other end of the phone hesitated and whispered.
"He said he will increase the security around you so you don't have to worry."
How can I not worry!
Zhang Yaping's face turned pale, and he gulped.
"In other words, the itinerary of the visit to Colombia remains unchanged?"
"… Yes."
He hung up the phone.
Zhang Yaping sat back on the sofa and looked at the phone in his hand with a wry smile. He then threw it to his assistant.
"Mr. President?" The assistant looked at him worriedly.
"Nothing," Zhang Yaping loosened the tie around his neck and waved at him. "Go do your thing."
"Yes."
The assistant nodded respectfully and left the conference room.
The reception room returned to its previous tranquility.
Facing the empty room, Zhang Yaping buried his nose between his palms, took a deep breath, and sighed with a headache.
"… This is pushing me into a pit of fire."
…
The next morning.
In the suburbs of Langley, on the border between Washington, DC and Virginia, the CIA building was busy as usual during working hours.
After knocking on the door of the director's office, a CIA agent in a suit walked in and walked to Henry Wilmot, who was drinking coffee and reading a newspaper.
"What is it? My dear Mr. Baird? ' Without looking away from the newspaper, Henry, who was reading the Washington Post's latest report on the election of the two parties, spoke in a relaxed tone.
Ever since Kerry lost the election, the director had nothing to do.
He had already made a mistake on the issue of choosing a side, and he didn't want to make a second mistake. As long as Hill, who he tricked, was not elected, no matter who won the election between Trump and Kennedy, he could stand in the middle without offending either side.
As for the historical grievances between the Kennedy family and the CIB.
That was the business of the older generation …
"Okay, tell me what happened that made you look so gloomy early in the morning?" Henry put down the newspaper and noticed the serious expression of his capable subordinate. The expression on Henry's face gradually became serious.
"… Our informants in Venezuela sent intelligence that a batch of Russian-made weapons came ashore from the port of La Cruz and were suddenly cut off after being transported by truck to Venezuela," Baird said solemnly as he put the two reports on the table.
"Russian-made weapons? Venezuela? "After hearing this information, Henry was slightly taken aback.
Does Russia have any core interests in South America? They haven't even solved the problems around them, and they still have the time to worry about South America, which is tens of thousands of kilometers away from Moscow?
What a joke, this is not the sixties or seventies.
"Can you trace the source of this batch of goods?" After a moment of silence, Henry asked in a low voice.
"We are tracking where this batch of goods originated from. The latest progress we have tracked is an import and export port located in Greece, but it is likely that this batch of goods never landed in Greece at all, and it was only labeled with the official seal of Greek customs. "
"It doesn't matter where it started, I hope it's not from Coro Island."
Henry cursed in a low voice, glanced at the other report on the table, and put aside this problem that he couldn't understand for the time being.
"Report to me immediately if there are any updates. Also, keep an eye on Celestial Trade's recent movements overseas … Let's put this problem aside for now. I noticed that there is another report. "
"Yes," Baird nodded solemnly, "Another bad news. Just this morning, we received news that Agent Braddock, who was sent to Colombia last month, began to lose contact with him in the early hours of yesterday. "
"Lost contact?" CIB Director Henry Wilmot frowned, "Can you confirm his current safety status?"
Baird shook his head.
"We found no signs of fighting at his residence, but when our people arrived, he was already missing."
"No signs of fighting? How is that possible?! "Henry was shocked.
Henry had heard of Agent Braddock. Known as the CIB Hound, he had been engaged in investigative activities abroad for more than a decade. Even the director of the CIA had an impression of his name, so it was obvious that he wasn't an ordinary person.
Without any resistance, he took out an experienced senior CIB agent.
Even if 007 and Tom Cruise possessed him, it wouldn't be that easy, right?
"I also think this is quite strange. With Agent Braddock's strength, it is impossible to be kidnapped without any resistance." After a pause, Baird said with an ugly expression. "At present, we have contacted the Colombian police through the embassy and launched a search for the whereabouts of Agent Braddock as a missing UA citizen. But so far, we have not received any effective information from the Colombian side. "
"It's useless to count on the Colombian police. They can't even solve their own problems." Henry's eyebrows furrowed, and after a moment of contemplation, he looked at Baird and asked, "What was Agent Braddock's mission before he disappeared?"
"Tracking a batch of drugs that entered the country from Florida and a drug lord active in Colombia and Panama," Baird replied immediately.
Drug lord?
Henry was dumbfounded again.
If he was tricked while following a KGB agent or a Ghost Agent, he could understand it as pardonable.
However, how could a drug lord have this kind of ability?
What the hell is going on today? Why are strange things happening one after another?
Henry subconsciously looked at the calendar on the corner of the table, and his eyebrows furrowed together.
Hell, today is not April Fool's …
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