In the US section of the US-Mexico border, H Town.

In a secluded warehouse on the outskirts.

This place used to be rented by a border trade company, but it had shut down due to poor management; recently, the warehouse owner received a new lease contract.

The new tenant was very generous, paying a year's rent upfront without haggling.

But there was a condition: they claimed they were renting the warehouse to develop a new technology project and, for patent secrecy reasons, hoped the landlord would not come around for no reason, leaving a phone number and saying to contact their secretary with any issues, urging not to disturb them as they were very busy.

The landlord looked at the business card; it bore the name of a distinctly Chinese company "Falcon Technology Development Co. Ltd."

Looking at the tenant, who appeared to be younger than thirty, youthful, a Chinese-American.

Chinese-Americans in the Beautiful Country are known for being law-abiding and honest, rarely getting into shady business, though H Town is one of the most rampant drug smuggling areas along the US-Mexico border; nevertheless, Chinese-Americans involved in this trade are in the minority.

"No problem, rest assured, I won't come around disturbing you for no reason!"

The landlord smiled, exposing a mouthful of nicotine-stained yellow teeth, his body fat jiggling with pleasure and joy.

"Also, don't come bothering me with issues; contact my secretary, and he will help you handle everything."

The Chinese-American tenant seemed serious and meticulous.

Seeing the generous rent, the redneck landlord smiled even broader and repeatedly said, "No problem, no problem!"

But in his heart, there was a problem.

For the following week, he would drive quietly to a large tree near the warehouse, using binoculars to observe the comings and goings.

After all, no one could guarantee that this Chinese American wasn't using his warehouse as a dedicated drug storehouse, as that could have significant implications for him.

Such issues were common in border towns, with drug traffickers renting warehouses to stockpile drugs brought in through underground channels from Mexico, sometimes even executing hostages on the spot and burying them in the nearby desert.

Once entangled in such trouble, it was easy to get caught up in legal disputes.

After observing for a week, he noticed that trucks were continually entering and exiting the warehouse, carrying electronic equipment.

After several days, the landlord finally felt at ease, confident that these people were not drug traffickers, for the electronics and computers they were moving in were enough to set up a scientific research lab.

On the fifteenth day, the new tenant, Song Heping, sat in one of the warehouse's office rooms, researching a massive amount of data and maps on his computer when his mobile phone vibrated on the desk.

"Ms. Kelly, is there something urgent you need from me?"

"Song, you've been in H Town for a full half month, and I haven't seen any plan or activity from you."

On the phone was the voice of Secret Action Department Head Kelly.

"Are you on vacation in H Town? Don't forget, you've already received half of the upfront payment you requested, and I've sent over the equipment and technical personnel you required. But my people say you've been eating and drinking with your colleagues in the warehouse lately, or driving a pickup into the desert to hunt. Do you think you're here on a trip?"

"Miss, I think you do not understand my work style. I am always credible, and I never pick a fight I'm not sure of winning. In the past few days, your people only saw me eating and drinking here with my colleagues, but they didn't see us locked in the conference room discussing strategy. They think I'm out hunting, but they don't know I go out every night and only come back at dawn."

Song Heping said, "I'm not hunting; I'm scouting."

Kelly thought Song Heping was just bluffing.

Scouting what?

She had provided him with an abundance of intelligence and data.

The annual quantity of drug smuggling across the border, hot smuggling routes, the involved gangs and groups—she knew it all in detail.

What she needed was for him to enter Mexico and take out Bartolo, not to stay in the US hiding in a small border warehouse "scouting."

"Scouting? I can give you any intelligence and data you need; what could you find in the desert that border police and the DEA don't already know?"

"I'm verifying the accuracy of the intelligence you provided. These days I've visited some of the hot routes mentioned in your intelligence and have seen some stuff."

"What did you see?"

"There's a mole inside your organization; I don't know who it is. It could be a cop, DEA, or someone from your own internal department."

Song Heping didn't mince words, "I'm considering who I should use if I move forward, I can't trust your people, and I can't trust the police either."

"If you trust no one, what are you planning to do? Rely purely on people from your company?"

"That's right; isn't this a good thing for you? If anything goes wrong later, you can completely disassociate and say it has nothing to do with you; isn't that exactly what you want?"

Hearing Song Heping's mocking tone, Kelly actually couldn't refute.

Not a word he said was wrong.

The beauty of money is it causes no harm and avoids casualties.

"So when do you intend to act?" Kelly asked, "I've allocated funds to you, if you don't act, how am I to explain to my superiors?"

"You made the right call today," Song Heping said, "I've just come up with a method, a bold plan."

"Let's hear it."

"I need one person, just one. Can you get him for me?"

"As long as he's in the United States, I can get him to you."

"No problem, he's in the United States, and he's from the DEA."

"Who?"

"He used to work undercover for the DEA in Mexico for six years, then came back home as an agent, although it seems he has resigned now. His name is Brian Barrett."

"Him?!"

Kelly was clearly surprised by the name.

"Can't you ask for someone else? Why him?"

"What's the issue? Didn't you say you'd provide everything I needed for this operation? Isn't the CIA in the United States capable of anything?"

"He's a madman; nobody can control him. Bringing him in is asking for trouble."

"To you a poison, to me an elixir."

"What?"

"You may not control him, but that doesn't mean I can't."

"Song, you overestimate yourself. Using him, you're likely to end up in over your head."

"I've read his file; he's interesting and highly capable. I need someone like that."

"I can't give him to you; he's left the drug enforcement division and is now not under the command of any department."

"I just need you to give me his address, I'll personally visit him and convince him to join."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line.

Finally, Kelly said, "Watch for a message, I'll send you his address and phone number."

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by lotustale.com