Chapter 1098: Decapitation Operation

After finishing his shift, Hiram found a public phone booth. He called Lance.

"I have gathered some intelligence on Paige Perez. When should we move?"

He was anxious to act. Although playing a police officer was an interesting experience, it was ultimately just an experience.

He wanted to experience it briefly, not indefinitely.

Lance asked him to wait. "We are still missing one final, crucial element—something to make Fran take the bait. So, we need to wait a few more days."

Few people knew Lance's plan, and Hiram was no exception, but he had no issue with that.

"About when? I'm getting restless."

"Today, they tried to dismiss me with ten dollars. I want to tear that bastard's face off and shove it up his ass!"

Lance couldn't help but laugh out loud. "Though I don't know exactly what happened, I can tell you're very angry."

"Don't worry!"

"The opportunity will appear soon."

Hiram spoke a few more words with Lance, then hung up.

He walked out of the phone booth, cigarette dangling from his lips, cursing softly as he got into the patrol car and drove back to his apartment building.

He could sense he would have to play the role of a police officer for a while longer.

The next period would be one of low-grade misery for Hiram—not unbearable, but certainly uncomfortable.

He had to be at work on time every day. It wasn't that he couldn't get up, but the job was incredibly dull.

Before joining the Lance family, he had thought being a police officer was interesting. First, they could legally use violence.

As an illegal immigrant, being treated as a criminal suspect by the police was a frequent occurrence.

At the time, he thought being a police officer must be very prestigious, and he even believed his life would improve only if he became one.

He imagined he could beat people, extort shopkeepers, and do many things.

But he no longer thought so. The police job was tedious and tiring. If not for the Bearded Director looking out for them, their workload would be heavier, more exhausting, and their income unimpressive.

During this time, he had meticulously figured out Paige's entire schedule. Now, he was just waiting for the signal.

The signal came quickly, and in a way Hiram had not anticipated.

"Lance was attacked."

The moment the news broke, Hiram immediately called Lance to check on him.

Lance was reportedly attacked shortly after returning to Golden Port City. It was rumored he was injured, and the injuries were serious.

Perhaps to stabilize the Lance family organization and prevent panic in the Senator's faction, Lance made a public appearance immediately after the attack.

His arm was in a sling and cast, suggesting a fracture.

He had some cuts and scrapes on his face, cause unknown, but overall, he looked miserable.

Fran, viewing the public footage, even noticed from Lance's walking gait that he must have suffered some leg injury.

Fran's face was wreathed in smiles!

"Go find out who did it."

"No matter who it is, tell them to contact us if they want our protection."

"This is the best news I've heard since the New Year, bar none!"

He looked at Bob. "Bring me that bottle of Royal Cognac I was saving."

Bob, also smiling, rose and went to the center of the liquor cabinet, pulling out a bottle.

It was Royal Cognac, vintage 891. Due to climate factors that year, the Royal Cognac vineyard had a reduced yield, resulting in only just over ten thousand bottles being produced.

Since the winery continuously served the Imperial family, the quality and craftsmanship were solid. Combined with the royal endorsement, the 891 Royal Cognac now sold for over ten thousand dollars a bottle and was extremely difficult to acquire.

Every bottle consumed was one less in existence. They were primarily collectibles owned by the powerful.

They would occasionally admire them; few actually drank them.

Fran had three bottles, spoils from eliminating a rival gang family. They had drunk one before, leaving him with two. This was one of the remaining two.

Bob opened the bottle in front of Fran. As the cork was removed, Fran felt an uncharacteristic urge to taste it immediately.

"Alright, leave me alone for a bit."

Bob knew this was Fran's habit. When he was very happy or very angry, he would isolate himself for a while.

Bob wasn't sure why he did this, nor did he care. It didn't concern him.

Fran poured some liquor, then recorked the bottle. The cognac would last a bit longer.

He took his glass and walked out onto the terrace. Lance being attacked was a highly significant event for him.

Furthermore, the attack occurred in Golden Port City. This implied that the conflict between the Lance family and the Perez family had escalated, and people now saw through the Lance family's weakness. Therefore, some gangs that Lance had severely suppressed were now fighting back.

People would leap to challenge him, trying to eliminate him and destroy the Lance family's dominance in Likalai State.

Fran and the Perez family might not even need to act; Lance would be in deep trouble!

This was exactly what Fran had feared: that once a powerful gang began facing challenges, it meant they had lost their deterrence, and people were planning to carve them up.

The thought made Fran savor the Royal Cognac.

He wasn't a sommelier and only judged the quality of liquor by its price.

If the price was high, Fran considered it a fine liquor.

If the price was low, it certainly wasn't good liquor.

Although his method of judgment was simple, it was surprisingly accurate in many ways.

The moment he raised his glass, he suddenly felt something push him, followed immediately by a loud bang!

It was a gunshot. He instantly hit the ground. All the guards in the estate mobilized. One group chased the direction of the gunfire, while the others continued guarding the crucial areas of the estate.

Bob and his men frantically burst into Fran's study. They saw Fran, a pool of blood spreading beneath him, crawling from the terrace toward the room.

Seeing Bob, the terrified Fran reached out a hand and shouted, "Help me," words highly uncharacteristic of his persona.

Bob and his men quickly helped him inside and pulled the curtains shut.

The Perez family had private doctors on twenty-four-hour standby at the estate. Given the inevitable need for surgery in gang life, these doctors were licensed to perform operations.

They examined Fran's injury. The doctor's expression was grim. "The bullet passed through his left shoulder and exited through his right lung."

"That's a good thing, at least we don't have to worry about removing the warhead."

"But the bad news is..." The doctor looked at the assembled men. "He is old. With such severe injuries, even if we save him, there's a high probability he won't fully recover, and his ability to care for himself might be compromised."

If the damage to the right lung was too severe, it might have to be removed to prevent further internal deterioration.

Doctors at the time generally believed that removing the damaged organ was beneficial for recovery, as the body wouldn't waste energy trying to heal something irreversible.

Bob's expression shifted repeatedly. "You must immediately save him! Fran cannot die, at least not now."

"Also..." He turned to the others. "No one is to leak this news."

"If anyone asks, say someone accidentally discharged their gun. It was an accident. No attack, no injury."

Some men looked at Bob with peculiar expressions, and a few even looked secretly overjoyed. A few others remained expressionless.

They all understood Bob's motive:

If Fran was incapacitated or failed to wake up, Bob, as the family's second-in-command, would be qualified to issue commands on his behalf.

But if Fran died, the family would have to choose a new patriarch, and the opportunity would most likely fall to Fran's sons.

No matter how capable Bob had been over the years, surpassing Fran's sons in competence, he lacked the lineage for succession. He couldn't become the next patriarch.

Only by exploiting Fran's potential coma or incapacitation could he control the family through the unconscious Fran, thereby consolidating his power and status and eventually becoming the next patriarch.

No one openly opposed his demands. They seemed to accept the decision.

This allowed Bob to relax slightly.

"The most important thing now is to figure out who did this!"

When this was mentioned, the same name flashed in most people's minds: Lance.

Bob's most trusted subordinate immediately spoke up. "It must have been Lance."

Everyone's attention focused on him. He showed no fear. "Lance was just attacked. He likely believes we did it, so he arranged for a gunman to find an opportunity and shoot Fran."

"I can't think of anyone else who would do this. If there was someone else willing and able to do this, it wouldn't be happening for the first time after all these years!"

Bob nodded noncommittally. "Since we have a suspect, investigate. Find out who it was!"

Whether it was actually Lance or not wasn't crucial, but they needed a target, and Lance was the convenient one.

The tension in the estate quickly eased. Most people remained unaware of the shooting, genuinely believing there was a simple accidental discharge.

Meanwhile, Hiram was on the phone with Lance. "...So, it was all a fake attack?"

Hiram finally breathed a sigh of relief. "I knew it! Who would dare attack you in Golden Port City?"

"If someone really attacked you, the first person I'd take out is Bolton!"

"What you're saying now is more logical. That kid's lucky."

The "kid" he referred to was Bolton, who was responsible for intelligence work in the main stronghold and Indeno State.

Ignoring other areas, if someone managed to penetrate the intelligence network and attack Lance in Golden Port City, Boden had to be involved.

Even if Bolton wasn't directly part of the attack, he must have tacitly allowed it.

Thus, Hiram was ready to return and eliminate Bolton if Lance had truly been attacked.

Fortunately, it was all a "false alarm." It was a lure.

As they were talking, Lance, who was explaining his plan, suddenly stopped. "Don't hang up. I have another call coming in."

He put down Hiram's call and answered the other line. The call was from the gunman arranged by Mador.

"Boss, I hit him. He fell to the ground, but I couldn't get a clear shot. I pulled back."

"But I can guarantee I hit him once in the upper body."

"If possible, I'd like another chance to finish the job."

Hearing the self-reproach in the sniper's voice, Lance proactively offered reassurance. "Killing him cleanly might not be a good thing. Him surviving might not be a bad thing either."

"Fran is old. No matter where he was hit, as long as the bullet struck him, his recovery won't be easy."

"The mission was executed well. You can go relax now. I'll ask Mador to give you a vacation. Take your family to the new water park; it's quite good."

He chatted briefly with the sniper, then hung up.

Fran's estate had high security. The surrounding two hundred meters was private land, continuously patrolled, and lacked any tall buildings nearby, meaning there were no easy vantage points for an attack.

Mador and the sniper had spent several days at the location before finding a cedar tree about two hundred meters away that offered a line of sight to the terrace.

The sniper climbed the tree, secured his weapon and body, and managed to land a hit on the upper body. Lance was impressed.

He put down the phone and picked up Hiram's call. "You can do what you planned to do..."