Starting from South America, speeding through the world

Chapter 108 Experts in Internal Strife
The headphones were still on the ground, next to the smashed casing of the listening device.

Boris crouched down, picked it up, and stuffed it into the drawer.

His hand was still bleeding, but he seemed not to feel it.

Just then, the red internal telephone rang.

The ringtone was short and sharp.

He stood there quietly until the third call before answering.

"Boris Ivanovich Sergeyev".

The voice on the other end of the phone was half a octave lower than usual, as if it were being squeezed out from between clenched teeth.

"Our two field echelons deployed in Ukraine were completely wiped out."

Thirty people.

At this point, the liaison officer lost his usual composure and began to curse.

Did you fucking hear me?

Thirty people!

“Sayeret Matkal, Shayetet 13, and a language expert from Unit 504.”

"They're all gone."

Boris's lips were pursed, and he simply responded in silence.

“You told us that the house was just a private party and that security was inadequate.”

“You promised, ‘Ten minutes at most.’”

"The results of it?"

"In the end, that damn Asian bastard messed everything up all by himself."

"You fucking dare swear that none of this has anything to do with you?"

Boris gripped the microphone tightly, his knuckles turning white, letting blood flow down his wound: "I'm only responsible for providing the location; I don't have command over the battle."

"You think you can talk to me about tactical logic?"

The other party was clearly amused and paused for a moment, their tone becoming increasingly cold.

"Alright, now I'll speak to you from a different perspective—"

"The security cabinet has just reached an agreement that if you fail to deliver within 48 hours, all access to funding and support will be immediately suspended."

“We will immediately switch to the backup contact person.”

"You will also be added to the action authorization list."

"Believe me, you're going to die a horrible death, so horrible that you'll regret ever coming into this world through your mother's womb."

Hearing his threat, Boris resisted the urge to smash the phone and spoke in the calmest voice he had ever used:
"The delivery process has begun to be deployed."

"The freight train will pass through the military-controlled liaison section in the direction of Kharkiv early tomorrow morning."

"I guarantee you will get what you want."

Upon hearing this, the person on the other end said nothing more, gave a cold laugh twice, and hung up the phone.

The call ended, and Boris stood there, his facial muscles twitching slightly.

The Israelis don't know much yet; the real catastrophe has not yet unfolded.

He took a deep breath and turned to look at his bewildered assistant beside him.

“Bring out all our informants in this area.”

"I'll pay any price, as long as I can find the dog's location."

"In addition, we are monitoring all railway nodes, bottling yards, ports, and dispatch stations around the incident site."

“That son of a bitch Mikhail couldn’t possibly have moved things out of thin air.”

The assistant solemnly noted down the order, then quickly turned and left.

The moment the door closed, Boris stood there alone, unable to control his emotions any longer.

damn it.

This is not right.

None of this is right.

Time is running out.

Not a single chip.

Time passed, but he remained stiffly seated in his chair, staring intently at the terminal on the corner of the table, as if he were looking at a revolver loaded with bullets.

After an unknown amount of time, the snow began to fall outside the window, like a thin layer of dust floating on top of the mist.

Boris leaned back in his chair, motionless.

He knew he couldn't continue waiting passively like this.

If I don't find something to do, I'm afraid I'll really go crazy.

He hesitated for a moment, then, with a tentative thought in mind, dialed Mikhail's number.

The phone rang several times.

Just as Boris was about to hang up, the call actually went through.

“Mikhail Andreyevich Smirnov.” A surge of anger welled up within him, and Boris spoke each word slowly and deliberately, his voice filled with barely suppressed hatred.

After a while, a reply came from the other end.

"I bet you're feeling pretty anxious right now."

“Fuck your mother,” Boris cursed almost instinctively. “Where are you now?”

"Where it is doesn't matter."

"The important thing is that I don't intend to completely break ties with you right now."

Mikhail paused. "You've overdone it all, Boris."

Boris gritted his teeth, his fingers turning white.

"Stop giving me that crap—"

"Don't rush to yell, I don't owe you anything right now."

Mikhail's voice turned somber.

“Igor isn’t dead, that’s your fault; the problem with the goods is my responsibility; if you really want to live, don’t talk to me like you used to.”

Just then, Boris suddenly realized something, his tone abruptly changed, and he said with a sarcastic and somewhat venomous tone:

“You must be feeling bad too, Mikhail.”

As he spoke, he subtly pressed the call button under the table.

"Igor isn't dead, you're the one who's going to suffer."

No, especially you.

There was a moment of silence on the other end, then a cold laugh.

"You're right, I really am feeling terrible."

"When I got home, the walls were riddled with bullet holes, and my men were lying on the floor like dead dogs."

"I'm hiding now, I dare not go anywhere."

"So, yes, the two of us are the ones who should be in trouble."

Boris didn't reply, resting his elbows on the edge of the table.

After a moment, the door was gently pushed open.

The assistant walked in, said nothing, and simply nodded to him.

Boris pointed to the note on the table and quickly wrote two lines:

— Capture the frequency hopping band from before

—Compare the launch characteristics to see which region the equipment might be located in.

On the other end of the phone, Mikhail, after waiting a few seconds, couldn't hold back any longer and spoke first:
"Now that things have come to this, we have no way out."

"Whether the threat comes from the Israelis or Igor."

"What do you want to say?"

"Since we have a common goal, what we should do now is to completely nail him down before Igor can make a move."

Upon hearing this, Boris regained some of the initiative: "I am not afraid of retaliation from Igor, and I have no reason to trust you anymore."

"Igor can't kill you, but what about the Israelites?"

"You caused them huge losses and they still can't deliver the goods, yet you come to me to negotiate?"

Boris fell silent again.

Seeing that his goal had been achieved, Mikhail relented:

“Listen, I can give you the warhead numbered B-42-771 first, to deal with the Israelis.”

"But I need you to promise me one thing."

"Use all your connections, weapons, channels, and power."

“From Odessa to Kharkiv, from ports to martial law, from gangs to the security bureau, whoever you can command, you can push them up.”

“Block Igor’s logistics lines, cut off his accounts, sow discord among his contacts, and leave him completely overwhelmed.”

"How about you come back for the remaining two after you've fulfilled this request?"

"."

Boris's face remained expressionless as he glanced at the spectrum recording equipment.

The indicator light is flashing steadily, indicating that the signal is being recorded.

Five seconds later, he slowly nodded. "Okay, I promise you."

"I will take action, starting now."

“Very good, I hope you keep your promise, Boris.”

"besides--"

"Don't try to locate me, it won't work."

"These days, even signals can lie."

(End of this chapter)