Chapter 68

In the dead of night on the West Coast, a small truck adorned with cartoon patterns sped down the highway and turned into a nearby forest at a fork in the road. Cole, who had been waiting for a long time, sat in an old van. Seeing the incoming vehicle, he turned on his headlights and flashed them three times. The other party responded with three flashes, confirming the prearranged signal. Although they had done business a few times, Cole still chambered a round in his pistol and tucked it into his waistband.

As soon as he got out of the car, Cole saw the newcomer and greeted him with a smile, "Hey, big guy. It's you again! You came all this way, have you eaten yet?"

The newcomer, seeing Cole, relaxed his guard and replied with a smile, "Of course it's me. Who else would it be at this hour of the night? Check the goods."

The big guy opened the truck compartment and took out several dolls hidden inside, handing them to Cole. Cole took out a dagger and, with a 'rip,' sliced open the package. He pulled out an MP-5, tested it by pulling the bolt and trigger a few times, and, finding no issues, said, "Hmm, the numbers are right!" After counting, the big guy helped Cole load the dolls into his small van.

"Be careful on your way back, buddy!" the big guy advised.

Cole smiled, showing his white teeth, "Ha ha, don't worry. Who am I? I'm Cole from the West Coast, the ace bartender at the Cat and Mouse bar!"

After receiving the goods, Cole called Old Cat to report and then transported the batch of weapons to the pre-arranged warehouse.

At this time, seven people living in the Wiley Hotel, seemingly a family, rarely went out. The leader was the person who had gone to the Cat and Mouse bar to place an order with Old Cat.

"Sir, will Old Cat deliver the goods personally? Does he know we are staying here?" a woman in a white T-shirt asked.

The man glanced at her and said, "Old Cat has some skills on the West Coast. He definitely knows we are here. As for delivering the goods, it's unlikely to be him. But if we catch his delivery person, we can get to Old Cat. Are the others in position?"

"They are all in position. The opposite coffee shop is full of our people!" the woman replied.

After that, everyone stopped talking and either watched TV or read newspapers, waiting for Old Cat's delivery person to show up.

Old Cat, who had started his career at the same time as Li She's master, Old Ghost, and had survived for so long, relied on caution. Regardless of the size of the deal, Old Cat always handled it personally. Although he said Cole would deliver the goods, Old Cat himself was nearby. On that day, Old Cat disguised himself as a black man, holding a newspaper and wearing a cap, with a shirt covering his large belly, looking like an ordinary middle-aged man.

Old Cat walked leisurely down the street, holding the newspaper. The Wiley Hotel was across the street. Old Cat glanced at it and then walked into the coffee shop on the roadside, ordering a coffee and a sandwich. He spread out the newspaper and, like most ordinary people, read it leisurely.

Today, the coffee shop had more customers than usual. The sharp-eyed Old Cat immediately noticed something was amiss. The four people in the booth by the window seemed to be anxiously waiting for something, and their breakfasts had been untouched for a long time. Old Cat glanced at the other customers and found that at least twenty people's breakfasts were still full, untouched, as if they were waiting for something.

Old Cat quickly finished his breakfast, paid the bill, and left. A middle-aged black man coming and going naturally did not attract much attention.

Old Cat took out his phone and called Cole, "Don't deliver the goods yet. The situation has changed. Wait for my message."

Cole was taken aback when he received Old Cat's call. He had seen Old Cat's skills before; without careful planning, it would be impossible to establish a foothold on the West Coast in such a short time.

"Got it, Cat Brother!" Cole replied.

After hanging up, Old Cat found a piece of paper and, from memory, drew the face of the person who had come to place the order that day. He sent a fax to Three Hands.

He picked up the phone and called Three Hands, "Little Three, help me check this person. See what he's all about. It's best to check with the police or the FBI." Old Cat said.

"Oh? Give me five minutes." Three Hands hurriedly replied.

After receiving Old Cat's fax, Three Hands and Four Legs quickly sprang into action, their hands flying over the computer keyboard, hacking into the FBI's computer system.

They soon found relevant information in the FBI's personnel records.

'John Quin, FBI agent stationed in Germany, injured in an undercover operation in 1992, transferred from the FBI in 1993, and joined the 'Federal Emergency Management Agency' as a civil servant.'

Three Hands immediately informed Old Cat of this information.

Old Cat frowned after hearing it, "The 'Federal Emergency Management Agency'? Hmph, it seems we are really being watched. The waters in America are deep. I didn't expect there to be a disaster management agency besides the FBI. Little Three, it looks like you won't be getting the payment for that batch of goods. I'll keep it for now. We'll talk about it later."

"No problem, Cat Brother, be careful yourself." Three Hands reminded him.

"Hmph, don't worry. Without delivering the goods, they can't catch me. Want to play? I'll see what this disaster management agency is all about." Old Cat said, narrowing his eyes.

After hanging up, Old Cat called Cole again, "Cole, the situation is wrong. No need to deliver the goods."

Hearing Old Cat's words, Cole immediately said, "Cat Brother, are those guys cops? Should we find some people to take care of them?"

"No, taking care of them will cause more trouble. The cops are already onto us. Hmph! Since they want to play, we'll play along. Find a courier to deliver them some real fruit according to the order!"

Cole laughed, "Don't worry, Cat Brother, it will be fresh."

The group in Room 301 of the Wiley Hotel was anxiously waiting, and the people on standby in the opposite coffee shop were drinking cup after cup of coffee.

"Sir, it's been so long without any news. Is something wrong?" a young female intelligence officer asked.

John Quin, the leader of the 'D-10 Zone'—'Normal Affairs' section, also had a serious expression. The ashtray was already full of cigarette butts. He lit another cigarette and said in a low voice, "It shouldn't be. Old Cat will likely deliver the goods in the evening, making the arrest more difficult."

Cole, who was once a notorious thug on the West Coast, was indeed efficient. By the afternoon, a delivery truck had parked in front of the Wiley Hotel.

The people monitoring from the coffee shop immediately reported via a wireless walkie-talkie, "Hunter, Hunter. Fox has appeared. A delivery truck has arrived downstairs."

John Quin's spirits were lifted. He picked up the walkie-talkie and said, "Monitor closely, wait for orders. Prepare the people in the hallway!"

All the personnel were on high alert at John's command. This Old Cat was not just a simple arms dealer. Most of his weapons were 3D-printed, capable of producing ivory and hard plastic guns that could bypass security checks, making them suitable for assassinating high-ranking officials. That's why the 'D-10 Zone' had targeted Old Cat.

Two people got out of the delivery truck, each taking a large package from the back compartment. They carried the packages into the Wiley Hotel.

The agents in the hallway, disguised, closely monitored the two delivery men. They carried the two packages to the door of Room 301, knocked a few times, and called out, "Delivery!"

John thought to himself, "This Old Cat is indeed not simple. He had someone dress up as a delivery person to deliver the weapons! Hmph, I'll catch you this time."

John nodded and picked up the walkie-talkie, saying softly, "All personnel, prepare to act."

The people in the room drew their guns and chambered rounds with a 'click.' John made a gesture, and the two people at the door carefully opened it.

"John Quin? Sign for the delivery!" the delivery man called out.

John, who was ready to draw his gun, was taken aback. How did the delivery man know his name? His current identity was the leader of a gang called 'Comps,' and all his files had been classified as S-level since he joined the 'D-10 Zone.' How did the other party know his real name?

Not just John, but everyone in the room was stunned, all looking at John Quin.

The delivery man was already impatient, calling out, "Is there a John Quin here? To sign for the delivery."

"It's me!" John shouted.

"Quick! Sign it." The delivery man handed over a delivery slip.

John took the pen and signed his name. The two delivery men handed the two packages to John. As he signed, John took the packages.

The people in the room stared at John, anxiously waiting for orders. John frowned, staring intently at the two delivery men, but found nothing suspicious on their faces.

"Sir, why not give the order to arrest them?" a companion in the room asked.

John's face was already black with anger, gritting his teeth, "This cunning Old Cat! Hmph, one day you'll fall into my hands."

When John received the long package, he already knew he had been tricked. As a veteran agent, he was well-versed in basic firearms knowledge, which was why he was transferred from the FBI to the 'D-10 Zone'—'Normal Affairs' section. A quick touch of the long package revealed that it did not contain any weapons.

With a 'rip,' John tore open the long package, revealing seven bamboo sticks. He then frantically opened the other box, which contained twenty pineapples, twenty mangoes, twenty pounds of corn, and a bag of flour.

"Shit! That Old Cat must have discovered we were tracking his phone and text messages! Shit!" John shouted.

At this moment, the cunning Old Cat was already driving to Las Vegas, where Li She had called four people to gather, as Li She, who had been missing for a long time, had called them again.