Chapter 1998: Chapter 831: Chaos Unleashed ~2
Black Mamba didn’t turn back.
"Tell them, no rush. Wait for Europeans to get themselves into chaos; weapons will be more valuable."
What he didn’t say was: Weapons were never the goal. The goal was to make Europe chaotic enough so that police and intelligence agencies from various countries were fighting their own battles, unable to communicate with each other. When they were all preoccupied with local street shootouts and drug proliferation, his "Black Pearl" could flow through those cracks into every corner.
Hendrick stepped out from the shadows, standing behind him.
"In Marseille, Samir has received the goods."
Black Mamba nodded.
"What about Italy?"
"Camorra accepted it, Entrangata accepted it, Cosa Nostra—still hesitating."
"They’ll take it," Black Mamba said, "Once they see that ’Black Pearl’ on their rival’s turf is selling 40% cheaper, they’ll take it."
Hendrick was silent for a few seconds.
"Boss, Europeans won’t stay chaotic forever. They’ll eventually catch on."
Black Mamba turned around, looking at the former South African mercenary who’d been with him for three months.
"You’re right," he said, "That’s why we need to turn ’Black Pearl’ into something they can’t quit before they catch on. Not drugs—it’s money."
He walked back to the control panel, pulling up a map. The map highlighted major ports and transport hubs in Europe, alongside a string of numbers—the total quantity of "Black Pearl" shipped from West Africa to Europe over the past two weeks.
Twenty-five tons.
"Twenty-five tons, enough to drop street retail prices in Europe by 30%," Black Mamba said, "Once prices drop by 50%, regular business folks will start to ask: Why is this stuff so cheap? By the time they find out the answer, our goods will already be tied into their supply chains."
He paused, looking at the map as if he were admiring a web he personally wove.
"By then, Europeans won’t be able to ban it even if they want to."
November 2, 1997, France, Paris, emergency meeting at the Ministry of Internal Affairs.
Conti walked into the conference room to find the Ministers of Internal Affairs for Spain and France already there. The German didn’t come, instead sending a director from the Federal Criminal Police Office—Dr. Wagner.
No pleasantries, no coffee, four individuals sat around a round table.
"I’ll start," Conti spoke up, "Over the past two weeks, more than twenty tons of ’Black Pearl’ have been seized in Italy. The source points entirely to West Africa. Transport method: semi-submersible transport ships, modified from fishing boats or small freighters, with enlarged ballast tanks capable of submerging two meters under the surface. Unloading points: Italian West Coast from La Spezia to Palermo, at least eight locations."
The French Minister remained silent. He slid a folder over.
Conti opened it. Inside were photos—the ruins after the Marseille Warehouse No. 17 was destroyed, with police cars parked nearby and forensic doctors cleaning the scene.
"Yesterday morning at four," said the French Minister, "Warehouse explosion. Seven dead, four local gang members, three—identities unknown. Our tech team found residual fragments of RPG-29 rockets at the scene, originating from Ukraine. The same batch of rockets appeared on the black market three months ago, bought by Albanians from Kosovo."
The Spanish Minister continued: "Seventeen shootings related to drugs occurred in Barcelona and Valencia over the past week. The deceased include locals and North Africans. We’ve captured several live members, and their confessions are consistent: the suppliers are Africans, the buyers are local gangs. The goods—same as yours, ’Black Pearl’."
Dr. Wagner hadn’t spoken at all.
Conti looked at him: "What about Germany?"
Wagner pulled out several sheets of paper from his briefcase, placing them on the table.
"This is a statistic we’ve compiled over the past ten days," he said, "Before ’Black Pearl’ appeared, the heroin street price in Europe’s major cities averaged 80 to 100 Marks per gram. After ’Black Pearl’ appeared, the price for the same purity substitute dropped to 40 Marks. In some parts of the Ruhr District, it dropped to 30 Marks."
He paused.
"At this rate, Europe’s underground market’s price structure will completely collapse within three months."
"Isn’t that a good thing?" the Spanish Minister asked, "Cheaper drugs mean more buyers, but at least—at least the gangs won’t make money."
Wagner looked at him.
"Minister, cheaper drugs mean more profitable entities will find ways to monopolize supply. Whoever monopolizes the supply—no matter who he is—will soon become the only person who can set the price. By then, cheap goods will disappear, prices will rise, and that sole supplier will hold the lifeline of Europe’s underground market."
The room fell silent for a few seconds.
Conti spoke up: "Who’s supplying?"
Wagner slid another sheet across.
It was a network diagram. At the top was a name: Idriss Diallo, nicknamed "Black Mamba."
Below were several lines pointing in different directions: armed groups in West Africa, arms dealers in Eastern Europe, Albanian gangs from Kosovo, local Mafia in Italy.
At the very bottom was the converging point of all lines.
The point had no name. Only a symbol—a skull entwined with a snake.
November 3, 1997, Scotland, Edinburgh, Holyrood Palace.
McTavish looked at the intelligence transferred from France, his brow furrowed.
"Black Mamba." He read the name, "What does this person have to do with us?"
Callum adjusted his glasses: "No direct relationship for now. But intelligence shows their ’Black Pearl’ has already begun to flow into Northern England. Liverpool, Manchester, Glasgow—it’s spreading."
