Chapter 2072 - 850: Squid~_4

Torres was stunned.

"This is..."

"Radioactive material," Shavit said, "High concentration. Enough to make four dirty bombs."

Torres turned pale.

"I—I really don't know—"

Shavit looked at him.

"I know you don't know."

Torres was stunned.

"You know?"

Shavit nodded.

"Because the ones who put the boxes weren't you."

He stood up and walked to the window.

Outside, the night was dark in Haifa, with the port lights flickering on the water.

"Captain Torres, you've been used."

Seven p.m., Jerusalem, Prime Minister's office.

Shamiel looked at the test report that had just arrived from Haifa and tapped his fingers on the table.

The report read: "Four metal boxes containing enriched uranium-235, purity over 20%. Source unknown."

He put down the report.

The Minister of Defense stood in front of him.

"Prime Minister, what do we do now?"

Shamiel looked up.

"Has there been any response from Mexico?"

The Minister of Defense nodded.

"Just received. Victor demands the immediate release of all passengers, the return of the ship, and a public apology."

Shamiel was silent for a few seconds.

Then he asked:

"Do you think it's him?"

The Minister of Defense thought for a moment.

"Don't know. But those boxes aren't Mexican official items. If he placed them, he wouldn't be dumb enough to make them so easy to discover."

Shamiel nodded.

"I think so too."

He stood up and walked to the window.

Outside, the night sky of Jerusalem was very dark, with only a few distant lights.

"But the problem is—the whole world won't think that way."

He turned around.

"Three thousand rabbis chanted SZ this afternoon, and tonight we found dirty bombs on a Mexican vessel. What do you think tomorrow morning's newspapers will say?"

The Minister of Defense said nothing.

Shamiel answered for him:

"'Squid took preemptive action, preventing a Mexican terror attack.' Or, 'Mexico retaliated against Squid, attempting to blow up Haifa Port.' Whatever they write, there's a common theme—"

He paused.

"War."

Seven thirty p.m., Mexico City, top floor of the "Feathered Serpent Temple."

Victor looked at the test report that had just arrived.

Enriched uranium-235. Purity 20%. Raw material for four dirty bombs.

He put down the report.

Bramo stood beside him.

"Victor, this wasn't us."

Victor nodded.

"I know."

"Then who was it?"

Victor didn't answer.

He stood up and walked to the window.

Outside, the night sky of Mexico City was very dark, but Paseo de la Reforma was jammed with cars. Someone was honking, someone was cursing, and someone stuck their head out of the car window, looking towards the National Palace, waiting for his response.

He remembered the old man this afternoon—Joshua Ben-David—standing on the Temple Mount yelling "SZ."

He remembered those three thousand rabbis—flown to Jerusalem overnight from around the world.

He remembered those four boxes—silver-gray, polytetrafluoroethylene-coated, appearing in the cargo hold of his ship.

This was no coincidence.

This was a setup.

Someone was playing a big game.

And he, Victor of Mexico, had become the leader on the chessboard, at the mercy of the general.

He turned around.

"Bramo."

"Yes."

"Call Prime Minister Squid. Tell him I want a video call with him. Now."

Seven forty-five p.m., Jerusalem, Prime Minister's office.

The screen lit up.

Victor's face appeared on the screen.

Shamiel looked at him.

"Mr. Victor."

"Prime Minister Shamiel."

Both were silent for two seconds.

Then Victor spoke:

"It wasn't me."

Shamiel nodded.

"I know."

Victor squinted slightly.

"You know?"

Shamiel looked at him.

"Those boxes are new. The seals are intact. The symbols on them—skull and bones—are the mark of the 'Black Sea Wolf.' Your people have been chasing them in Africa for half a year; they hate you."

Victor was silent for a few seconds.

"Then why detain my ship?"

Shamiel looked at him.

"Because the world needs to see that I am taking action."

Victor was taken aback for a moment.

Then he laughed.

The laugh was cold.

"You are taking action. You've detained thirty-two hundred innocent people behind barbed wire, and you're taking action."

Shamiel did not avoid his gaze.

"Mr. Victor, this afternoon, three thousand rabbis shouted SZ on the Temple Mount. Tomorrow morning, the world's headlines will be 'Squid stops Mexican terror attack.' I need that headline because if I don't take action, those three thousand rabbis will turn into thirty thousand tomorrow. The day after tomorrow, they'd turn into three hundred thousand. The following day, my country will fall into civil war."

Victor stared at him.

"So you want to use my ship as your scapegoat?"

Shamiel nodded.

"Yes."

Victor was silent for a few seconds.

Then he spoke:

"Prime Minister Shamiel, let me give you a suggestion."

Shamiel waited.

"Release my ship. Release my people. Then publicly announce that the 'Black Sea Wolf' did it. We'll work together to pursue them."

Shamiel looked at him.

"And then?"

Victor gave a cold laugh.

"And then, when we catch them, you bring those three thousand rabbis to the Temple Mount to have a look at who truly desecrates the Holy Land."

Eight fifteen p.m., Haifa Port, temporary encampment.

Tamara stood behind the barbed wire, gazing out at the sea.

She didn't know why she was here.

Two hours ago, she was still in that warehouse on the outskirts of Munich. Then someone rushed in, pinned her and three others to the ground, handcuffed them, blindfolded them, and pushed them into a vehicle. She didn't know how long the drive was, only that when she was pushed off the plane, this sea stretched out before her.