Fair Trade
Chapter 44.1
Swimming through the cold water that made one’s bones ache, Gavin arrived at the shore. He looked like a black lump. He slumped on the cement floor, breathing heavily.
“Those fucking mafia bastards! Throwing a man in the sea? What do they take the goddamn FBI for!”
Swimming in the sea at this time of year!
His bluish lips trembled and expletives continued to pour out of his mouth. The weather wasn’t particularly cold, but since his condition was poor, he felt as if he was suffering from hypothermia. Shivering from the freezing cold, Gavin pulled out his wet cell phone and wallet and entered the port management office.
“Let me use your phone.”
The janitor, seeing him wet and holding out his FBI badge, was startled and handed out his phone. Gavin stuffed his dead cell phone into his pocket and called Tiffany.
[This is the FBI.]
“It’s me. Get me a list of all owners of yachts licensed to sail in New York Harbor.”
[Hmm… It’s Agent Smith but why is your location showing New York Harbor?]
“I went for a night swim. Anyway, I’ll stop by my house, change my clothes, and go to the headquarters. Can you pick me up in front of my house in an hour? I’d like to ask you a favor.”
[It’s hard to buy that you swam all night, but it’s you. Okay then.]
Her voice was full of tiredness from working overtime. After hanging up, Gavin thanked the janitor before borrowing a towel and heading out onto the road. But his ordeal was not over yet. The towels smelled horrible and the taxis refused him since he was soggy.
“Damn it.”
In the end, he threw the rag-like towel into a nearby trash can, dragged his wet sneakers, and walked for about 10 minutes to find a police station.
How many times have I shown my badges just today?
As if losing the ‘thing’ wasn’t enough, the plan also was on the verge of going awry. Now that Jang Sei has joined hands with Yuri Petrov, he would no longer be able to receive her help…
Also Yuri, who was furious enough to want to kill him, couldn’t be of any help… Gavin, who climbed into the passenger seat of the police car, let out a long sigh, pressing down on his sore eyes. Then, a police officer with an impressive mustache handed over a soft blanket.
“Wrap this around yourself. Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you for the blanket. Since I’m like this, I’m sorry for troubling you.”
“The FBI is also a part of New York, so we have to help. Let’s go. Give me your address.”
After Gavin gave the address of the rental house he was lodging at, he put his wet cell phone on the heater. Seeing that his nose was running, he knew he was going to suffer from a cold soon.
The officer, who glanced at Gavin curiously, spoke only after five blocks. “Then why did you fall into the water?”
“I jumped to survive on my mission. I was on undercover duty.”
“Ah, do you catch drug addicts like in the movies?”
“Huh… It’s similar. Oh, there it is.”
They reached his accommodation after a long drive. Gavin thanked the officer, folded the wet blanket, and set it down in the back seat. His messy hair drooped and covered his eyes. Gavin brushed off his poodle-like wet hair and strode up the stairs. Raising his tiptoe and taking out the key from the rain gutter above his head, he trembled once and pulled the doorknob.
“Oh, it’s cold! Damn it, you motherfuckin’ mafia shit.”
He felt a comforting warmth as soon as he opened the door. Jumping through the wide open door, Gavin hung his wet jacket on the wall and turned on the light in the living room. The moment he turned around to take off his shirt, something hit the back of his head.
“Aargh!”
With a dull sound, his knees bent and the world tilted diagonally. A pair of high-quality oxford shoes approached in front of Gavin, who fell to the floor with a thud.
The man walked toward him, neither slow nor fast, got down on one knee and put a gun to his temple.
“Rose has disappeared… Valentin.”
* * *
The body that was limply leaning forward, was tightly pressed against something. Opening his eyes, Gavin found that he was sitting strapped to a chair.
Did Rose feel the same way back then?
His stomach churned/he felt nauseous and the back of his head hurt like it was going to break. What Gavin found after closing his eyes tightly a few times was Giulio, who sat on his desk and looked through the documents.
The document number was 13. Giulio, who was examining the paper containing everything about Jang Sei, turned his head. Then he smiled. Like someone seeing a friend after a long time.
“What have you done to deserve looking like that?”
“What are you doing? Isn’t this too much for revenge. Ugh…. Damn it.”
He wanted to touch the back of his head where the pain was radiating, but he couldn’t move my hands as they were tied with cable ties.
“Untie this. I think we can resolve it by talking. I know you’ve had a hard time following me around, but can you not treat me like this?”
“That mouth of yours is still alive.”
Giulio looked over Gavin with contempt and put the paper down. The second thing he picked up was a document about him, which Gavin had worked hard on while working as a double spy. Gavin sneaked a glance at the time on the wall clock. He had about 15 minutes left until the pick-up car he requested from Tiffany arrived.
“It’s the first time I’ve seen your face this close, but let’s say it’s nice to meet you. Giulio Parenti.”
“We’re not close enough to greet each other happily, so let’s skip the small talk… Just answer me. Where is Rose?”
“Why do you expect me to have an answer? How do I know that when you yourself don’t?”
“You ran away so fast at that time. Seeing how relaxed you seem, you must have found a way to live.”
“I haven’t found it yet, but I’m thinking about it. Is the path I chose really the right way to live? Or is it right to find another way?”
At those words, Giulio arched an eyebrow. Until now, he had never failed to find Jang Sei. He had always kept her right in front of his sight, and even though she knew she was playing in the palm of his hand, she was the one who stayed as if she was compliant.
Could it be that even the great Giulio Parenti can’t cross/breach the walls of the Petrov family?
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