“There’s something wrong with this restaurant,” I said immediately.
"oh?"
I thought for a moment: "Look at this restaurant's address... They deliver food. But this restaurant's address is far from the Vietnamese construction company, not even in the same area! If the Vietnamese construction company were calling to order takeout, there's no reason for them to choose a restaurant so far away! But they call this restaurant every day, so they must be ordering takeout, but where is it delivered to?"
I quickly pulled up a map of Vancouver, opened it, and pointed to a street: "Look, according to the address, the restaurant is on this street, more than a dozen blocks away from the Vietnamese construction company!! So it's definitely not delivering food to the Vietnamese construction company."
At this point, I slowly said, "The Vietnamese have hidden all their elite troops... So many people, they need to eat every day! They're different from us. We can make our own water and canned food on the island and last for a few days... But these Vietnamese, they don't have that kind of quality we have in our region! And they've been hiding for many days. If they only eat canned food, they won't last that long! A whole bunch of people need to eat and drink... So it seems we really need to make a trip to this restaurant that specializes in delivery!"
Part Two: The Road to Success, Chapter Forty: Oh, I Lied
At 3 a.m., in Vancouver's C district, on a certain street, a restaurant's sign was written in both English and Italian, revealing that the restaurant owner was Italian.
Sure enough, they offer what they claim to be authentic Italian pizzas and pasta, and they also have a delivery service.
It was three in the morning, and the whole street was quiet, with only the streetlights casting a dim glow. This street was located on a side street of a main road and was not very busy. There were cars parked on the side of the street...
The main building of the restaurant is a three-story building, with the restaurant located on the first floor and the restaurant owner's residence upstairs.
"It tastes really good." I held a pizza that had just come out of the oven in one hand, took a careful bite, and the rich aroma of cheese filled my mouth and nose.
I gave a compliment, then drew back the curtains and glanced at the street below.
"Don't worry, sir, madam, we mean no harm." I smiled. "So you don't need to be afraid, I won't hurt you... Oh, we're not robbers either. We came here late at night just to ask you for a favor."
Sitting on a slightly worn old-fashioned sofa in the middle of the room, a white couple embraced, the woman trembling slightly. The man remained relatively calm, holding his wife tightly.
Their facial features were distinctly Mediterranean, typical of Sicilians, especially the man with his high nose and green eyes. Then, looking at me in heavily accented English, he asked, "What exactly do you want?"
He was afraid, and his eyes kept glancing at my other brothers in the room. And it was clear he was trying hard to suppress his anger.
I can understand him perfectly. After all, being broken into your home in the middle of the night by a group of armed men and dragged out of bed with your wife would drive anyone crazy.
I casually handed the pizza box to Ciro: "Try it, it's really good." Then I wiped my hands and took out a piece of paper from my pocket with a phone number copied down on it.
“This is a phone number. Someone called you using this number recently. Just recently, the owner of this phone number must have ordered a lot of takeout food from you.” I stood in front of the boss: “I don’t ask for much, just that you try to recall and tell me every detail of this matter. How much food they ordered each day, where it was delivered, and anything else… basically, anything you can remember, no matter how small the detail, please tell me everything.”
The owner calmed down a bit, glanced at the phone number on the table, and hesitated for a moment: "I'm sorry... I don't remember this number... No, no, I'm not trying to lie to you, it's just that I receive a lot of food orders every day, fifty or sixty a day, and I can't possibly write down every single one of them... I need to check my accounts... After all, I'm not a computer."
"Sure." I held out my hands. "Go ahead."
The boss released his wife and then pointed to a drawer in the room: "My accounts are in that drawer..."
He stood up and walked over, and I gestured to Stone and the others not to stop him.
"Wait." Just as his hand was about to touch the table, I smiled and said, "I need to remind you that if you try to reach for the gun hidden under the table, then I can't keep my promise... I don't want to hurt you, but please cooperate. We just want to ask you for a favor."
The boss's face turned deathly pale, and he looked at me in surprise.
I laughed: "There aren't many Italians in this city, and I've heard that many small Italian restaurants have ties to Mafia families... I respect you Italians, so I don't want to cause trouble."
I walked over. The boss's body was a little stiff. I reached under the table and rummaged around for a while, pulling out a pistol. The gun was stuck in a groove under the table.
"A very well-hidden gun hiding place." I smiled, picked it up and glanced at it, then casually asked, "Do you have any connection with Mr. Albertoni?"
Albertoni was the head of an Italian mafia family in Vancouver, but the Italians weren't very powerful in Vancouver. Albertoni was just a second or third-rate figure.
“I… my cousin is Mr. Albertoni’s godson.” The boss was somewhat dejected.
I laughed. It's a typical Italian gangster model based on family and religious connections.
“Listen, I just need help. I have no conflict with Mr. Albertoni, and my being here today is just a coincidence.” I looked at him. “I just want to know everything about that phone number, that’s all.”
"Who are you, and which organization do you represent?" the boss asked another foolish question. "I won't show you my ledgers! Unless you kill me."
“Idiot,” I muttered under my breath, pointing the gun at him with a wry smile. “Are you deaf? Whether you’re one of Albertoni’s men or part of the Italian mafia, it’s none of my business! I’m not here tonight to cause trouble for you Italians! I simply see you as a restaurant owner, and coincidentally, some of my rivals have ordered food from you these past few days. I need to find their addresses through you! Do you understand? Italians? Hmph, even Albertoni treats me with utmost respect! I have no interest in your ledgers! Just tell me everything about that phone number, and I’ll disappear from here immediately. And you can treat everything that happened tonight as a dream. When you wake up in the morning, nothing will have happened.”
"Really?" The boss looked at me with a face full of doubt.
I lost patience with arguing with him, so I picked up the gun and pointed it at his head.
"6 B-4, XX Street." The shopkeeper quickly recited an address, then, as if afraid I wouldn't believe him, explained, "They've been ordering food from me for three days in a row, each time ordering enough for sixteen people. It's a big deal, so I remember it clearly. But..."
"But what?"
"However, they ordered food from me for the first three days, but they didn't order anything for tonight."
"Thank you!" I immediately holstered my gun, glanced at the others, and said, "Quick! Let's go!"
Before leaving, I looked at this somewhat stubborn boss and smiled, "I haven't seen you tonight, and you haven't seen us either. I suppose you don't want to cause trouble, do you?"
I casually tossed a banknote out of my pocket and chuckled, "By the way, your pizzas are really good."
We sped to the back of the street, and I urged Ciro to start the car. Ciro was still a little nervous and confused: "What's wrong? Now that we know where those guys are hiding, shouldn't we plan things out properly before we act?"
I sighed and remained silent. Stone spoke first: "The owner made it very clear that the other party had been ordering food from him for the past three days, but not tonight... This means they have probably moved to a different place! So we need to get there right away... As for whether we can catch them, it all depends on luck."
Xiluo then realized what was happening and quickly started the car and stepped on the gas.
Thirty minutes later, we arrived at the address. It was an old neighborhood, surrounded by old-style buildings with exposed brick walls. Most of the buildings were only three or four stories high, and the houses were gray and low. The streets were narrow, and even the streetlights at night were poorly maintained; many were not working, and some were flickering and making a buzzing sound.
"This is the place, on the fourth floor."
We slowed down as much as possible to keep the car quiet, and slowly drove up to a building. There happened to be an alleyway across the street, so I had Xiluo drive in. The other car behind us followed.
"Leave two brothers downstairs to guard the car." I glanced at Xiluo: "Xiluo, you stay."
"Why?" Siro asked, somewhat disappointed. "I wanted to go up with you!"
I ignored him and glanced at Stone: "Leave one of your men behind to watch the car with Xiluo. We're ready to retreat at any time. Also... everyone, get your weapons ready."
The people in the other car also climbed into our car. We checked the time, and then, under my strict orders, Xiluo reluctantly agreed to stay.
"Split into two groups. One group will come from the rear, led by Stone. Scorpion, you take eight men and we'll charge in from below..." I paused, then slowly added, "Don't hesitate, make it as clean as possible!"
The sound of hurried footsteps echoed up the old-fashioned staircase as our group of ten quickly ascended it. One advantage of this spiral staircase is that it allows for rapid ascent.
I rushed up to the fourth floor in one breath, and there was a wooden door in front of me, through which a dim yellow light shone.
"Charge!" I gestured, and immediately someone stepped forward from behind me and stomped on the door.
Bang!
The entire door was kicked down, and I immediately led the way and rushed in. I held my gun in both hands, and the three of us who rushed in first immediately formed a triangular group.
But we were disappointed.
Behind the door was a large room, but it was empty. A chandelier on the ceiling swayed gently, its dim yellow light flickering.
At that moment, the stone figures at the window also climbed in from the outside. Their movements were very efficient; the ones in front landed and immediately took up advantageous positions to cover the ones behind... Unfortunately, all of this was in vain!
The room was a mess, with lots of discarded items and trash on the floor. I even saw a pile of pizza boxes in the corner, and there was a rancid smell coming from the room...
We quickly checked the place and found another room inside, which was a bit cleaner than the outside. There were many plastic sheets and other miscellaneous items scattered on the floor.
Damn it... I even saw a condom.
“They’re gone,” Stone said sullenly.
I took a breath and slammed my fist against the wall. I walked to the table and saw a half-eaten pizza and some empty water bottles.
"Alright, we were just a step too late, but we still have a chance to find them," Stone said, trying to comfort me.
"It's nothing." I forced a smile. "They must have moved to a different hiding place. These Vietnamese are quite cunning."
Shi Tou waved his hand and instructed the others, "Check carefully to see if there's anything useful or if you can find any clues. We'll leave in five minutes."
Very soon...
“Stone, we found this.” A man walked over with a smile, a golden object pointed at the muzzle of his gun.
This is a gold watch.
"I found it in the toilet inside. Someone probably left it here and forgot to take it," the man laughed. "This thing should be worth a lot of money."
I picked it up and glanced at it… Hmm, a Rolex. This kind of watch is probably worth around twenty or thirty thousand US dollars, not too expensive. But what caught my attention was that there were some words engraved on the back of the watch, seemingly scratched out with a knife tip.
Moreover, the watch is very old, extremely old, and looks like a very old thing.
I handed him the stone, and he took a look at it, especially at the marks on the back. He laughed and said, "Hmm, this thing is old. The marks on the back are Vietnamese words, meaning 'spoils of war'."
I forced a smile, but before I could say anything, I heard a walkie-talkie on my waist suddenly flash.
"Hello?" I picked up the phone. "Siro? What's wrong?"
Xiluo's voice was excited: "Xiao Wu, someone's here! They just came up the stairs, it looks like they went up... They might be Vietnamese! Two of them!"
I immediately perked up! A smile spread across my face as I looked at the stone: "Someone's coming up, it's two Vietnamese men, they're back!"
Without me giving any instructions, Stone immediately made a hand gesture, quickly issuing several commands, and then whispered, "Capture them alive?"
Having received my confirmation, everyone sprang into action. Some people first propped up the fallen door panel, placing it against the doorframe, while three others went outside and hid behind the doorway. Stone and I stood on either side of the door. The others found places within the room.
A minute later, I heard footsteps coming upstairs, and I could faintly hear people talking in hushed tones as they walked. To my relief, they were indeed speaking Vietnamese.
I glanced at the stone, and a slight smile appeared on his lips.
Bang!
The door collapsed with a crash. It was probably because the two Vietnamese men outside were trying to open the door, but we had already kicked it down. They just gave it a light push from the outside, and it fell over with a thud.
As the two Vietnamese men cried out in surprise, their reaction was not slow. One of them had already drawn his gun from his waist. But immediately, two brothers hiding outside the corridor reached out from behind and grabbed their necks. Stone and I rushed out and each punched one of them, knocking them down and kicking their guns away.
We dragged the two Vietnamese men into the room, and someone immediately closed the door again. At first, they seemed to want to resist, but when they saw that the room was full of our people, their faces immediately showed expressions of fear and despair.
"Do you speak Vietnamese?" I glanced at Stone, and he smiled. "Most people here can speak it."
"Alright!" I waved for someone to bring the two Vietnamese men over and pin them to the ground. I pulled up a chair and sat down in front of them.
"Ask them how they got here."
Stone immediately asked them the same question in Vietnamese.
The two Vietnamese men hesitated for a moment, but remained silent. I went up and slapped them both across the face, swelling up half of their cheeks.
I noticed that both of them looked utterly hopeless. But the one on the left seemed resigned to his fate, his eyes fixed on the ground. The other one, however, had a mixture of despair and fear, his gaze seemingly evasive.
A thought struck me: "Tell them I want to ask them questions, and I can spare their lives if they are willing to tell the truth."
Stone translated for me, and the two men's expressions changed slightly. One of them had a cold smile on his lips, while the other's eyes held a more evasive look.
"What are you laughing at?" I asked coldly.
Every time I spoke, Stone was right next to me, translating it into Vietnamese.