American variety show: The Godfather, the Peace Ambassador, what the heck?

Chapter 140 There's a Wall in Berlin

boom!
The black car sped towards them, crashing through the gate fence of the industrial park and skidding onto the main road. Simon, gripping the handrail, was swaying so violently that his vision blurred. If it weren't for the fact that soldiers are generally in good physical condition, he might have already vomited in the car.

Looking back, Simon saw the police cars still hot on their heels, which made him extremely anxious. He tried his best to calm himself down and said in a deep voice, "Pigeon, where are your men? Where's Night Demon? Get them to come and help. The two of us can't shake off these cops on our own!"

Neither Night Demon nor Leon are very good at acting. Luca, who was quite rough with his hands, sneered and said angrily, "Shut the hell up! I have my own ideas. If you want to live, shut your mouth!"

Da da da da da!
Bullets pelted the car like a relentless summer hailstorm, the crisp sound making Simon's brow twitch – something he desperately wanted to admit was that his life was now in Luca's hands.

If Luca stops, he's finished.

But Luca did not.

Amidst the hail of bullets, Simon turned and glanced intently at Luca. His strong mental fortitude prevented any sign of panic on the young face, only unprecedented focus.

The inertia from the drift distracted Simon, who looked ahead and saw that the car had reached a bridge.

The Hudson River flows beneath the bridge. It passes through the capital city of Albany, then through Newburgh, then past West Point, and finally empties into the sea next to the Statue of Liberty in New York.

The river was calm, but chaos reigned on the bridge. Police officers who had flanked from the other side of the bridge, along with Hobbs's pursuit team, had trapped Luca and Simon in the middle of the bridge.

With tigers in front and wolves behind, and no way to escape, Simon was about to question Luca when Luca suddenly turned the steering wheel, the rear of the car swung out, and it blocked the middle of the road. Then Luca opened the car door and said, "Come on, follow me!"

Simon, bewildered, got out of the car and ran with Luca towards the bridge. When he saw Luca's hurdling motion, his face turned pale instantly: "This is your escape route?!"

"You can swim all the way back to New York from here!"

"Swim back?!"

"Don't worry, there are no sharks down there."

After saying that, Luca leaped into the air and plunged towards the river.

Seeing that the police were catching up, Simon gritted his teeth and stepped onto the guardrail. Just then, a gun shot out from the window of a police car not far behind him, and a precise bullet hit Simon in the thigh, disrupting his jumping motion and causing him to fall into the water like someone who had been fishing with explosives in the Philippines.

McLean, gun in hand, climbed out of the car and ran to the bridgehead. He saw a speedboat approaching from a distance, rescuing Luca and Simon from the water, and then speeding away right under the noses of the police.

Hobbs watched the speedboat disappear into the distance, narrowing his eyes: "The preparations are quite thorough. What are we going to do if Luca really runs away with Simon and the rest of the gold medalists?"

McLean instinctively denied it: "Impossible. Old Pigeon's home is in New York. How could such a large family of his go to become a wanted criminal? Hobbs, you don't know Old Pigeon. He's not the kind of person who would betray his principles for money."

"That's hundreds of billions of dollars worth of gold."

"He has already provided a lot of information about gold and has even volunteered to act as an informant."

McKellen wanted to explain, but when he turned around and saw Hobbs's ambiguous smile, he immediately realized, "We've already gone this far with the act, big guy, aren't you playing along pretty well?"

"I would say I trust the NYPD and the FBI more than I trust Luca."

Hobbs turned around. "Now the stage is set for him. There are no outsiders to disturb him. All that's left is the show. If Luca still can't gain Simon's trust and find out the whereabouts of the other gold medalists, then I'll have no choice but to bring Simon back for interrogation!"

But this was not the situation Hobbs wanted to see. Once he sat down at the negotiating table with Simon, Simon could use his gold as leverage to make unreasonable demands.

Hobbes just wanted to get things done quickly.

McLean shrugged: "I've never met anyone who makes friends better than Old Pigeon. He's bound to succeed."

Lyon was driving the speedboat.

After picking up Luca and Simon, the speedboat departed Newburgh, made a stop on the way, and finally arrived at a safe house in a small town outside New York.

Simon was shot in the thigh and spent some time in the river, leaving him extremely weak. However, he insisted on removing the bullet directly without anesthesia.

Luca picked up the tweezers by the sofa and said jokingly, "Afraid that you'll fall asleep and never wake up again?"

Only two grown men remained in the room. Simon's face was as white as a bloated corpse, and Luca's teasing elicited a self-deprecating smile from him.
"Even without anesthesia, I'm so tired I want to fall asleep right now. But this isn't the time to sleep. I need a clear mind. Pain will remind me that I'm still alive. Please do it, thank you."

Luca has removed bullets from his body countless times over the past decade or so. How could an assassin never get injured? Luca has many bullet wounds on his body.

Removing the bullet only hurts for a moment; what hurts more is the continuous irritation from the alcohol and medicine during the wound disinfection process. However, Luca did not hear Simon's screams.

After he finished bandaging the wound, he looked up and saw Simon's face covered in sweat, who forced a pale smile at him. "Your medical skills are quite good. You can remove bullets faster than the professional medics under my command. Why don't you consider becoming a medic?"

"It seems that pain can indeed clear your mind and give you the energy to joke with me."

“I’m not joking, Pigeon. The Federation has already tracked down your oil refinery. You’re finished. They won’t let you off the hook.”

Simon laughed as he spoke, "But we're not at our wits' end. We still have enough gold to buy a country. If we take them out of America, we can even go to Africa and arm a country!"

"Is this your goal?" Luca asked curiously. "You stole so much gold just to go to Africa and become a landlord?"

“I want to correct the word ‘landlord.’ I robbed the West of its gold, not to create another Western puppet in Africa.”

Simon glanced at Luca. "You think I'm some greedy bandit hiding under this uniform? Ha, I'm a soldier of the German Democratic Republic, I always have been, and I still am."

Simon's casual remark made Luca's eyelids twitch. Holy crap, is this guy a madman?

The Berlin Wall has already fallen, and these people still want to cause trouble?
Luca's gaze toward Simon suddenly became somewhat obscure. He had almost forgotten that Simon was an East German officer who went underground after German reunification and became a mercenary leader.

East Germany was a socialist country, while West Germany was not. When the Berlin Wall fell, East Germany was incorporated into West Germany.

With this, Germany was unified. Simon looked at Luca with a hint of mockery, as if he had rediscovered the sense of superiority he felt when playing games with the police: "Pigeon, you wouldn't understand! I'm a soldier. You may be called a soldier, but what are you fighting for? Your Mafia has long abandoned all other beliefs except for your family. You have no country in your eyes, only your family."

Luca retorted sarcastically, "I rarely defend what I do. What you see is what you get. Do you think you're so noble? Didn't you also throw your comradehood into the trash and run away from the east to the west?"

“But that doesn’t include me! I’m not a traitor!” Simon said coldly. “At least while you Italians were selling bulldozers to West Germany, I was still guarding the east side of the Berlin Wall!”

“But unfortunately, you lost.” Luca shook his head. “Your so-called faith is just a wrong bet at the poker table. You fight for your memories, and I will become the one who controls those memories. Simon, if you really want the Federal Reserve’s gold, you’ll have to learn to shake hands with the devil first.”

"Ha, so this is the Mafia, everything has a price tag."

"Do you even know who I am, yet you still invite me to go to Africa with you?"

“If there’s a price, we can talk. At least for now, you seem more reliable than my brother. If Hans and I run away together, he’ll definitely leave me behind to draw the police’s fire so he can escape on his own. He won’t even take the bullets out for me; he’ll just aim the gun at me.”

Simon chuckled self-deprecatingly, "Who made us two brothers stand on opposite sides of the Berlin Wall? That wall separated two countries and also separated many families of brothers and sisters."

Hans Rube—Syman's brother—was thrown off a building by McLean in Los Angeles a few years ago.

Perhaps due to his physical weakness, Simon's defenses also weakened considerably. He talked about his relationship with Hans, how the Berlin Wall separated not only families, but also two soldiers standing in different military camps.

Luca's expression turned even more surprised. Damn, this guy has quite a story to tell.
He only knew that in the original storyline, Simon had no interest in bombing New York; his goal from beginning to end was the gold, and the explosion was just a diversionary tactic.

Luca had never been to Germany, nor had he ever seen the wall, but he knew there was a strait that had separated many people and broken up many families.

"You know why I'm willing to listen to your stories, buddy? I understand how you feel, because I've heard similar things before."

Luca sat down opposite him, took out an Oreo and ate it, then began to recount some stories from his memories.

Simon's expression grew increasingly strange, wistful, and even somewhat empathetic as he listened. He actually detected some inexplicable emotions in Luca's words.

"If I remember correctly, you are a descendant of Italian immigrants, right? The New York Mafia doesn't accept people of other bloodlines."

“Because I’m very interested in these cultures.” Luca shrugged. “There are only a few unique countries in the world, so it’s hard not to know about them. Of course, your country is one of them.”

"I feel like you're the one joking with me now. Who would have thought that the Mafia would be interested in this kind of stuff?"

"It cannot be generalized."

"Personal action, please do not associate it with the entire Mafia." Luca shook his head. "If your goal is really what you say, then I have nothing but admiration and respect for you. Man, you are a warrior. A bear this big in Siberia was dismembered, yet you still carried the remaining corpse forward, and you even managed to slap America in the face. You did what many people want to do but dare not do."

Luca's gaze was sincere.

Although Simon is an extreme "madman" in some ways, he actually has such an "unrealistic" "ideal" in his head. It's so unrealistic that even Luca wonders if Simon is fooling him.

But Luca is about to destroy what Simon is pursuing, and even Simon's life.

For a rare moment, Luca was quiet for a few seconds.

Simon, however, spoke up while taking aspirin: "I used to have many colleagues who are now tightening screws in the Mercedes factory. In fact, I didn't know at first until I saw the Frankfurt newspaper—a former People's Army colonel, now reduced to an assembly line worker."
The West mocked East Germany, saying it was trash that should have been eliminated long ago, and that even East German marks weren't worthy of circulating in West Germany. The freedom we once longed for was simply being able to pick up any goods from the supermarket shelves, but now we don't even have the right to be 'remembered'.

My friend, Targo, you've met him. He's pretty much like me, except he wants to bury all this gold at the bottom of the sea. I think that's too extreme—bringing the whole world back to a level playing field? That's even crazier, isn't it? What I want isn't a third world war; I just want to find a new path for those who lost their faith in East Germany.”

Luca joked, "It sounds like a Hollywood script where if you succeed, you should be the protagonist and the Federation will be the villain."

"Damn Hollywood, they could never write a script like this in their lifetime."

Simon rubbed his forehead and took another aspirin. "Pigeon, I apologize for what I said before. You're a thoughtful guy, and you're a nice person. You saved my life this time, and I'll remember that favor. I don't expect us to be on the same side, but I hope you can help me again and help me take the gold out of America."

You can't take it with you.

Luca's gaze was unwavering. "Even if you argue until the end, I cannot let you take the gold away."

"To be honest, I really don't want to get involved in your mess right now. I already have enough trouble of my own."

Luca raised the corners of his mouth. "But it wasn't just the Berlin Wall that fell; you also tore down the wall in my heart. People often resonate with each other's stories, and I really like your story; it touched me."

"It sounds like you'd be willing to help me."

"I have no interest in the African rivalry."

Luca has now realized that there's a reason why this guy was able to contact Yuri, the arms dealer, since Yuri's main market is in Africa.

Luca: "I simply like your story and am willing to pay for it. Perhaps you could write an autobiography someday; I'm quite interested in the story of the Berlin Wall. You're injured, so rest and recover first. It's safe here; don't worry about the police coming for now. I'll go think of a way to get the gold out of here."

"thank you for your help."

The voice behind him made Luca pause slightly, then he continued walking, waving his hand without turning around, "I'm waiting to hear you continue your story about the Berlin Wall."

[Bond: Friends]

The colors of the bond were brighter, but Luca's gaze was more profound as he stepped out of the room.

He took out his phone and called Jimmy: "Where is Yuri now?"

Yuri was a pure man with no principles; he could even go to the border between China and Vietnam, buy their guns and bullets, and then resell them to fascists.

Luca intends to meet this King of War.

(End of this chapter)