Chapter 2073 - 850: Squid~_5

Outside the barbed wire, a Squid soldier is patrolling.

She looked at the soldier, thinking about one thing:

The seven of them. Six adults, one child. Who killed them?

Victor said he didn't know.

But she didn't believe it.

She must find that person.

Whether it's Victor, or Volkov, or that "Boss" hiding in Moscow.

She must kill him with her own hands.

9 PM, somewhere in the Mediterranean.

An unmarked freighter is heading north.

In the cabin, Victor is sitting on a broken chair, facing five people.

Those five people have come over the Alps—two men, three women, the oldest in their forties, the youngest in their early twenties.

"Do you know where you're going?" Victor asked.

No one answered.

Victor stood up and walked to the cabin door.

"Germany. Once you get to Germany, someone will meet you. After that, it's not my concern."

He pushed open the door and went out.

Scorpion was standing outside.

"Victor, that woman—Tamara—was caught."

Victor's hand paused slightly.

"What?"

"The Squid caught her. She and three others were taken in Munich."

Victor was silent for a few seconds.

Then he asked:

"About the seven, does she know?"

Scorpion shook his head.

"No, but she's been asking."

Victor nodded.

"That's good."

He continued walking forward.

Scorpion followed behind.

"Victor, if she finds out—"

"She won't find out," Victor interrupted, "because she'll die in Squid."

10 PM, Mexico City, top floor of the "Feathered Serpent Temple."

Bramo pushed open the door and came in.

"Victor, the Squid have agreed."

Victor raised his head.

"Release them?"

Bramo nodded.

"Release them. But the condition is—we cooperate with them to pursue the 'Black Sea Wolf.'"

Victor stood up and walked to the window.

Outside the window, the traffic on Paseo de la Reforma began to move. Someone stuck a hand out of a car window, waving a Mexican flag.

They know.

"Tell Shamir, I agree."

He turned around.

"But there's one condition—"

Bramo waited.

"Those boxes weren't placed by the 'Black Sea Wolf.'

Bramo was stunned.

"Then who placed them?"

Victor looked at him.

"The person who placed the boxes is the same person who gathered those three thousand rabbis."

He walked back to the desk and picked up the report on Joshua Ben-David.

"This old man, a marginal figure for thirty years, can gather three thousand rabbis overnight. Who paid for his tickets? Who arranged the venue? Who laid the media for him?"

He paused.

"And, two hours after he shouted SZ, a dirty bomb was found on my ship. The timing is too precise."

Bramo's face changed.

"You mean—"

Victor put down the report.

"Someone is playing a big chess game. The Squid is a pawn, we're pawns, that old man is a pawn. The real chess player is hiding behind."

He walked to the window.

"Tell Bennett to investigate that old man. Check all his connections over the past thirty years. If someone has been sustaining him, waiting to use him for this day, that person is who we're looking for."

11 PM, Jerusalem, an unassuming apartment.

Joshua Ben-David sat in the study, with a Bible open in front of him.

He was reading Daniel Chapter 7.

"The one who desecrates the Holy Land, will rise from the west, and his kingdom will last forever."

He recited this line and closed the book.

The door opened.

A young man, in his twenties, dressed in ordinary civilian clothes, with no expression on his face, came in.

"Rabbi, they agreed."

Joshua nodded.

"They've released them?"

The young man nodded.

"They will be released tonight. The news will be out by tomorrow morning."

Joshua stood up and walked to the window.

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

"Victor Reyes," he murmured, "you think it's the 'Black Sea Wolf' messing with you. You think the CIA is messing with you. You think it's the Russians messing with you."

He laughed.

A very light laugh.

"You're wrong."

He turned around.

"From today, you have only one enemy."

The young man waited for him to finish.

Joshua looked out the window.

"God."

Early morning, Mediterranean, on the "Mexico Star."

Torres stood on the bridge, watching the passengers re-board the ship.

Three thousand two hundred people, one by one, walked up the gangway, one by one, returned to their cabins. Some were crying, some were laughing, some knelt down to kiss the deck.

A young woman walked up to him.

"Captain, thank you."

Torres was taken aback.

"Thank me for what?"

The woman looked at him.

"Thank you for not letting us die there."

Torres was silent for two seconds.

Then he shook his head.

"Don't thank me. Thank the person in Mexico City."

The woman walked away.

Torres raised his head, looking towards the north.

In that direction, towards Haifa, towards Jerusalem, is the direction where that old man shouted "SZ."

He doesn't know what will happen tomorrow.

But he knows one thing—

The war has already begun.

3 AM, just outside Moscow, in that villa.

Volkov stood in the living room, looking at the person opposite him.

The Boss sat in a chair, holding a glass of vodka, his face showing a calm expression.

"All set?"

Volkov nodded.

"All set. Three thousand rabbis, four boxes, a ship. The timing was just right."

The Boss smiled.

A very satisfied smile.

"What about that old man?"

"Still in Jerusalem. Waiting for the next instruction."