lcionline Chapter 94 The Japanese are the best sacrifice
Chapter 94 The Japanese are the best sacrifice
Chapter 94 The Japanese are the best sacrifice
Las Vegas, Nevada.
The midday sun scorched this oasis in the desert, and the heat was intense. The entrance to the Caesars Hotel was crowded with tourists seeking relief from the air conditioning.
On the hotel's top floor, the air conditioning was running at full power, but it couldn't dispel the oppressive atmosphere in the private meeting room.
"Damn the IRS—"
Carmen, the godfather of the Luciano family, sat in the main seat, turning the ruby ring on her finger.
"This is the third time this week." His voice was hoarse, and he was clearly unhappy. "Those damn tax inspectors are scrutinizing every single account at the casino, even checking the soap consumption in the laundry room!"
Sitting opposite him was Tony, a representative from the Gambino family.
The elderly man, who was usually known for his composure, was now ashen-faced, holding a fire safety rectification notice in his hand.
"You're auditing the accounts, but what I'm doing is even more outrageous." He slammed the notice on the table: "The fire department said that the Bellagio's stage curtains do not meet the latest fire safety standards and ordered us to stop all song and dance performances until the rectification is completed."
"That's the Bellagio! Without shows, where do all the tourists go at night? Count the stars in the desert?"
"Where are the councilors?" Carmen turned to her confidante in charge of public relations. "They're always the first to reach for the money, but where are they now?"
The confidant wiped the cold sweat from his brow and answered tremblingly, "The boss—we can't get in touch with him. Senator Smith said he went fishing in Alaska; Senator Jason said he suffered a heart attack and is being treated at the Mayo Clinic, and visits are not permitted—"
"Bang!" Carmen slammed his fist on the table, sending cigar ash flying everywhere from the ashtray.
"Fishing? Heart attack?" He laughed angrily. "These bastards! They don't even think before they lie!"
Everyone knew perfectly well where this strange wind was coming from.
Pentagon.
That General Bill is delivering on his earlier warnings in a suffocating way.
The Pan Am "accident" failed to kill all the people on the plane, but it had extremely serious consequences.
"We've already received a call from Rome." Tony sighed, his voice filled with a deep sense of helplessness. "The committee is extremely dissatisfied with us. The old patriarch in Sicily has even threatened that if we don't handle our relationship with Washington well, it will affect the family's business across the United States—"
He didn't continue, but his meaning was already quite clear.
Faced with enormous family interests, these gambling tycoons are also pawns who can be sacrificed at any time.
"Damn luck—" Carmen gritted her teeth, her eyes filled with resentment: "How could a plane with over two hundred people have managed to make a successful emergency landing? What if they had all died in the sea—"
The military is not going to fight a deadly battle with the Mafia, who control half of America's underworld, for a few dead men—it's not worth it.
However, Warner Bros. and those few Chinese people were currently filming a movie in Hong Kong, which completely changed the nature of the situation.
Just as the conference room fell into a deathly silence, there was a sudden knock on the door.
"Who?!" Carmen roared like a wounded lion, "I told you, don't bother me unless the sky falls!"
The door was pushed open a crack, and a trusted aide poked his head in with a strange expression: "Boss—a Japanese man has come in."
"A Japanese man?" Carmen frowned. "What does he want?"
The bodyguard stammered, "He said his name is Hiroki Ishii, the karate master who was defeated by Qin Han in the Santa Monica ring. He said—he has a way to help you bosses solve your biggest problem."
Upon hearing the name "Qin Han," the eyes of the godfathers present instantly met.
Carmen narrowed her eyes and straightened her collar. "Let him in."
A moment later, a stocky man in a black suit walked in.
Hiroki Ishii looked much thinner than he did on TV. His face, which was originally wrapped in bandages, had had the stitches removed, but there were still faint bruises around his eyes and cheekbones.
But his posture remained upright, each step measured as if measured with a ruler, exuding a rigid, samurai-like aura.
Good afternoon, gentlemen.
Hiroki Ishii walked to the end of the long table and gave a standard 90-degree bow.
"Get straight to the point." Carmen made no move to invite him to sit down: "Our time is precious; we don't have time to watch your Oriental etiquette performance."
Hiroki Ishii was not angered by the other party's arrogance: "I came here with a proposal from the Japan Kyokushin Kaikan and the Yamaguchi-gumi headquarters."
"We know that you've all run into some trouble lately because of Bruce Lee and that Qin Han. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. We're willing to help you make those two disappear completely."
"In exchange, we hope you can do us a favor and allow Yamaguchi-gumi capital to enter Las Vegas, even if it's just to operate a small hotel."
"Hahahaha!" Before Carmen could speak, old Tony burst into laughter, his voice filled with sarcasm. "Japanese, your information network is quite impressive. But—how did you know we wanted to kill them? We're law-abiding citizens."
Such platitudes, of course, couldn't fool anyone. Everyone sneered and looked at Ishii, wanting to see his reaction.
Hiroki Ishii straightened his back and said in broken English, "Sir, there's no need to hide anything. I was a witness to the ring incident and know everything about your entanglements with Qin Han."
"It just so happens that Kyokushin Kaikan sent me here this time with the goal of dealing with Bruce Lee. However, our previous plan was thwarted, so I reported the grudges between you and Qin Han to my master, Masatatsu Oyama."
At this point, a sinister look appeared on his face: "My master has wanted to get rid of Bruce Lee for a long time. Since his previous plans hadn't worked, he used his connections with the Yamaguchi-gumi!"
"As you know, the Yamaguchi-gumi has a deep presence in Hong Kong; our opportunity is huge!"
"The plan is progressing very smoothly so far. Please believe that exciting good news will soon come from Hong Kong."
After speaking, Hiroki Ishii wore a confident smile, awaiting the Godfathers' praise and acceptance.
However, the expected applause did not erupt.
On the contrary, the way the godfathers looked at him was not like they were looking at an ally, but rather like they were looking at a foolish monkey.
"Excellent." Carmen clapped her hands twice, her tone dismissive. "Looks like you have a perfect plan. So—you've also prepared how to deal with their protectors?"
"A protective umbrella?" Hiroki Ishii paused, taken aback. "You mean Golden Harvest Film Company in Hong Kong? Or those Hong Kong triads that only collect protection money?"
"In front of our Yamaguchi-gumi, they are nothing but chickens and dogs—"
"No, no, no." Old Tony shook his finger, interrupting his boastful words, his face full of pity: "It seems your investigation hasn't been very successful."
"Young man, do you know why we're sitting here smoking in silence?" Carmen stood up and slowly walked to Ishii. "Because right now, what's pressing down on us isn't the police or the FBI."
"It's the Pentagon. I heard their greatest pleasure is hosting barbecue parties in Tokyo."
Hiroki Ishii looked up in disbelief at the room full of godfathers, wondering if he was hallucinating.
"The Pentagon?!" His voice trembled. "How could that be? They're just two Chinese men, how could they possibly be connected to the US military?!"
At that moment, he finally understood why this once-arrogant Italian mafia had become so quiet after the plane crash.
This point has never been mentioned in any of the intelligence reports from the Japanese side!
If these two people were killed in Hong Kong, it would anger the US military behind them —
"Damn it! We have to stop the plan immediately!"
Cold sweat instantly soaked Ishii's back. He turned around frantically, trying to rush out of the conference room: "Excuse me! Everyone! I must contact Tokyo immediately! This deal is off!"
"Wait," Carmen said calmly.
Two bodyguards at the entrance blocked his way like two walls, their dark gun barrels pointed at Ishii's head.
"Mr. Carmen, what do you mean by this?" Ishii turned around, trying to remain calm.
"Since you're here, don't be in such a hurry to leave." Carmen lit another cigar and took a deep drag. "You just said your people were very confident of success?"
If it was these arrogant Japanese who actually killed someone in Hong Kong—
That was done by the Japanese. What does it have to do with Las Vegas?
"Since you're so confident, wouldn't it be a shame not to let you give it a try?"
Carmen's face broke into the first genuine smile since the plane crash.
"No! This is a misunderstanding!" Hiroki Ishii, who now understood the old foxes' scheme, shrieked, "We know nothing about the Pentagon! This is an intelligence failure! I need to make a call!"
"The phone line's broken," old Tony shrugged. "You know, the signal's always this bad in the desert."
O
"Take Mr. Ishii to the presidential suite on the top floor to rest."
Carmen waved her hand as if shooing away a fly: "Give him the best wine, the most beautiful women, and if he wants to play a few rounds, give him 100,000 chips."
"But remember. Don't call him, don't let him contact anyone outside, and don't let him leave the room."
"Until we see Bruce Lee's death in the newspapers, or—the Japanese suffer their insane retaliation."
"Let me go! This is illegal detention! Ya-die!!"
Hiroki Ishii struggled desperately, but his proud karate skills seemed so pale and powerless in the face of large-caliber pistols.
He was dragged out by two burly men like a dead dog, and his screams gradually faded away in the thickly carpeted corridor.
The meeting room door closed again.
Carmen exhaled a smoke ring, watched the smoke rise, and turned to old Tony, saying, "Tony, do you think those Japanese guys can pull it off?"
"Who knows?" Old Tony picked up his wine glass and swirled it gently. "The Japanese are very cunning; they might actually give us a surprise."
"If it works out, we'll send a wreath to Qin Han and inherit their estate; if it doesn't—"
He sneered and downed his glass of red wine in one gulp: "Then we can hand over Ishii to General Bill as a pledge of loyalty," proving our innocence.
This is truly—protecting America.
"
"The Japanese, indeed, are always the best sacrifices for the Americans."
""