Chapter 1999: Chapter 831: Chaos Unleashed (Part 3)
McTavish didn’t speak.
He remembered a few weeks ago, when John McLean discovered that batch of radioactive materials and sophisticated parts in an old warehouse in Glasgow. At the time, McLean’s judgment was that someone planned a terrorist attack in Scotland.
Now he understood.
It wasn’t a terrorist attack.
It was market testing.
"Tell McLean," he stood up, "keep an eye on the streets of Glasgow. If ’Black Pearl’ shows up on our turf, I want to know who’s selling it, where it came from, and who they’re working with."
Callum nodded.
"Also," McTavish walked to the window, "Over at the English Congress, aren’t Sarah Kent’s people organizing community patrols? Get them to help keep watch. If any strangers show up in the Liverpool Dock Area, tell them— I owe them a favor."
November 4, 1997, England, Liverpool.
When Sarah Kent received that message, she was handing out reflective vests to newly recruited patrol members.
The message was very brief, from a number she didn’t recognize:
"Friends in Glasgow say new goods might come into Liverpool. Keep an eye on the dock area. Remember the favor."
She finished reading and handed the phone to Allen.
Allen glanced at it, expressionless.
"A Scottish favor," he said, "not light."
"What should we do?"
Allen thought for a moment: "Tell the dock area branch to add an extra patrol shift starting tonight. From 10 p.m. to 4 a.m., three people per group, go through each dock. No weapons, just walkie-talkies. Report any suspicious unloading—boats without lights, trucks without license plates, people not speaking—immediately alert the police and notify us."
Sarah nodded and picked up the walkie-talkie to start arranging.
Allen walked to the warehouse door, looking at the gray sky outside.
He remembered three months ago, when he first met Sarah Kent in that warehouse in Liverpool. Back then, she only had a copy of the Charter and contact information for a few hundred volunteers.
Now she had five seats in Parliament, a community network covering half the city, and a favor from the Scots.
What he didn’t tell Sarah was: he knew the number the message was sent from.
It was an encrypted channel from MI6, which he had used once in Belgrade two years ago.
November 5, 1997, off the coast of West Africa, "Far Seer".
Black Mamba looked at the latest data just transmitted from Europe, showing a genuine smile.
Twenty-five tons.
Over the past three weeks, the total volume of "Black Pearl" transported from this ship—twenty-five tons.
At least twenty tons entered the underground market in Europe.
France, Italy, Spain, Germany—four countries, twenty cities, all had his goods.
Costa was dead, Samir took over, Camorra bowed down, Albanians cooperated.
The next step is Eastern Europe.
Hendrick stood behind him, holding a freshly translated telegram.
"Boss, from the ’Engineer’. They say the people in Kosovo want to meet you. They set the time and place."
Black Mamba didn’t turn around.
"Kosovo? What do they want?"
Hendrick glanced at the telegram.
"Weapons. They want to buy weapons and pay with ’Black Pearl’."
Black Mamba was silent for a few seconds.
November 6, 1997, Belgium, Brussels, European Union Council Building.
The emergency meeting was convened at 10 p.m.
The agenda was only one: the European drug crisis.
Conti sat in the conference room, watching ministers from various countries enter one after another. Germans came, French came, Spaniards came, Dutch came, Belgians came. The United Kingdom didn’t send anyone—they sent an observer, sitting silently in the corner.
Before the meeting started, Conti received the latest report.
The report came from the European Criminal Police Organization.
It detailed the number of drug-related violent incidents in Europe over the past seventy-two hours—forty-seven.
Among them lethal cases—thirty-one.
Death toll—sixty-three people.
The last paragraph of the report was bolded and highlighted:
"Based on current intelligence, all drug-related cases point to the same network as the source. The controller of this network is Idriss Diawlo, a Drug Lord of West African origin with the nickname ’Black Mamba’. Whether there is support from countries or organizations behind him is under investigation."
Conti closed the report and looked up.
The conference room lights were cold and white, all eyes fixed on him.
He began to speak, his voice hoarse:
"Gentlemen, our countries are being invaded. Not by armies, not by tanks. By drugs, by guns, by young men dying on the streets."
No one responded.
"What should we do?"
Still no response.
Conti stood up and walked to the window.
Brussels’ night sky was painted orange-red by street lamps, and in the distance, the European Union Headquarters Building was brightly lit.
He remembered three months ago, at that summit in Mexico City, the speech. That Mexican named Victor stood on stage, saying:
"New security challenges require new solutions. Mexico is willing to collaborate with Europe."
At the time, he thought it was just words, just a way for Mexicans to try to get a foothold in Europe.
Now he knew it had been true.
"Notify the Mexican Ambassador," he said, turning, "tell them we want to discuss that ’Digital Security Cooperation Framework’."
November 7, 1997, Mexico City.
Bramo placed the message from Brussels on Victor’s desk.
Victor glanced at it but didn’t pick it up.
"Are the Europeans asking for help?"
"Not asking for help," Bramo said, "it’s an inquiry. The Italian Minister of Internal Affairs wants to know if our ’Digital Security Cooperation Framework’ can still be signed."
Victor leaned against the back of the chair, looking outside.
The streetlights on Paseo de la Reforma had just lit up, traffic moved slowly, orderly. Compared to Europe’s chaos, it felt like another world here.
"Tell them," he said, "the conditions need to change."
Bramo picked up his pen.
"First, Mexican technical teams will be stationed at the Coast Guard command centers in Italy, France, Spain, and Portugal, for five years."
"Second, all nations covered by the cooperation framework must agree to allow Mexican companies to participate in their national network construction."
"Third, as founding members of the New Security Challenge Response Framework, these countries must vote in favor of all anti-drug resolutions proposed by Mexico at the United Nations."
Bramo finished writing and looked up.
"Will they agree?"
"Now it’s their turn to feel the pain of drugs."
