Chapter 2032 - 841: "He Doesn’t Give Me a Reason, So I Have to Give Him an Excuse!" (2)

Victor stared at the frame, stared for a long time.

No one spoke in the room. Bramo stood nearby, Casare leaned against the door, Bennett sat on the corner sofa, holding an unlit cigarette.

"Bennett."

Victor spoke, his voice was calm.

Bennett raised his head.

"Did you see this?"

Bennett nodded.

"I did."

"What do you think?"

Bennett put down the cigarette, stood up, and walked to the screen.

He looked at the burning child.

"The one pouring gasoline," he said, "wears number 10 jersey. Ecuador National Team's number 10, named Agina Ga, twenty-two years old, plays as an attacking midfielder, in Quito Sports University Team."

Victor said nothing.

"The one who threw the beer bottle into the fire," Bennett continued, "bald, wearing a black vest, has a tattoo on his right arm. The tattoo pattern is 'Santa Muerte', Mexico's Holy Death — this thing is popular in Ecuadorian gangs. Indicates he has gang ties."

He turned around, looking at Victor.

"And the gas station employee, the one with the fire extinguisher. After spraying, he ran away and hasn't been seen since."

Victor waited for more.

"My people found out," Bennett said, "that employee is named Pedro Morales, twenty-four years old, worked at that Guayaquil gas station for three years. After the incident, he took leave and went back to his hometown, a village north of Guayaquil. Seen today at three in the afternoon in the village."

Victor squinted his eyes.

"Your people work quickly."

Bennett didn't humble himself.

"Counterintelligence Bureau's job is to do this."

Victor was silent for a few seconds.

Then he spoke, his voice still calm:

"The Ecuadorian government says an investigation takes time."

Bennett didn't respond.

"I don't want to wait."

Victor said.

"By the time they finish investigating, evidence is gone, people have fled, the buzz has faded. Then they issue a lukewarm statement, saying it's the act of 'individual extremists', deeply regretting, strongly condemning, and then forget about it."

He walked to the window, gazing at Mexico City's night.

"When that family of three burned to death, what were they shouting, did you hear?"

Bennett shook his head.

"No audio was recorded."

"I guess they shouted 'help'." Victor said, "Or shouted 'mom'. The child must have shouted mom. The mom shouted the child's name. The dad can shout anything."

He turned around, looking at Bennett.

"I want those people dead."

Bennett said nothing.

"Not judged, not imprisoned for years, dead."

Victor's voice was still calm, but each word was like a nail.

"The one pouring gasoline, the one throwing the beer bottle, the one hitting the woman with a stick, those cheering around—I want them all dead."

He paused.

"That gas station employee, he ran after spraying. But he saw. He saw the man covered in fire fall at his door. He did nothing."

Bennett waited for more.

"Let him live." Victor said, "Let him remember all his life what he saw that day."

Bennett nodded.

"Anyone else?"

Victor thought for a moment.

"The Ecuadorian government. Those officials, those delaying, those saying 'takes time'. Let them know too, that delaying has a price."

Bennett was silent for a few seconds.

"To what extent?"

Victor looked at him.

"You decide."

Bennett nodded.

"Understood."

He turned and walked out.

At the door, Victor called him.

"Bennett."

Bennett turned around.

"That child," Victor said, "Five years old. You are a father too."

Bennett was silent for a few seconds.

"I know."

He pushed the door and left.

The corridor was very quiet.

Bennett didn't walk fast, step by step, the heels of his shoes thumping on the marble floor, sounding a dull echo.

Counterintelligence Bureau's building is north of Mexico City, twenty kilometers from the "Feathered Serpent Temple."

When Bennett arrived, it was nine in the evening.

The building was brightly lit.

He walked into the office, four team leaders were already waiting in the conference room.

The video was playing on the screen.

"How many times have you watched it?" Bennett asked.

"About ten times." A team leader said.

"What did you find?"

Another team leader stood up, pointing at the person wearing the number 10 jersey on the screen.

"This person is Jorge Luis Torres, twenty years old, local of Guayaquil, unemployed, has a record — last year convicted on probation for robbery. The jersey he's wearing is fake, the number is printed crookedly, the real number 10 jersey isn't this color. Shows he's not a real fan, he's just here for the chaos."

Bennett nodded.

"And the bald one with the tattoo?"

The third team leader responded.

"He's called 'El Chino', real name unknown, a member of Guayaquil's 'Los Lobos' gang. This gang mainly deals in car theft and extortion, has no direct contact with Mexico. But the 'Santa Muerte' tattoo on him was done at a local tattoo shop. We tracked the shop."

Bennett walked over to look at the photo series.

The tattoo shop's sign was blurred but the address was clear: Guayaquil, October 9th Avenue, No. 1374.

"Shop owner is Miguel Rojas, forty-five years old, has a record — ten years ago imprisoned for drug trafficking. His shop has an assistant, who is part of 'Los Lobos' gang, specializes in tattooing gang members."

Bennett looked at that address.

"Is the shop still open?"

"Yes. Last night someone saw lights on inside."