Morlov felt that today was a day to make a fortune.
Weighing two hundred pounds, he held a roasted lamb leg weighing over one kilogram in his hand. He raised his plump and round buttocks and sat half-reclining and half-sitting next to an off-road vehicle bearing the J-State Border Guards license plate.
Chewing until your mouth is full of oil.
He received the call 40 minutes ago.
One glance at the phone number and he knew he was going to make a fortune tonight.
Five days ago, a friend of Morov's for many years came to his door and said he wanted to discuss a "business" with him.
Morov is not a fool. He was able to sneak into the position of commander of the state border army at the age of forty. In addition to having a brother-in-law who is the commander of the military division to support him, he is shrewd and dares to think and do what he wants.
important reasons.
I know the identity of this friend very well. It is said that this person is willing to make any kind of money. In recent years, he has had a heated relationship with some people with extremist organization backgrounds and has done some shady business.
But whatever!
In the past few years, the political arena in J country was turbulent and the society was unstable. Politicians from various factions sang and sang and others came on stage. They said they were promoting democracy, but in fact they were factional fights. They fought to the death. No one had done anything about economic construction for a long time.
Even as an officer, Moloff had a hard time. His pockets were tight and the quality of the wine he drank was getting worse day by day.
Since the disintegration of that great "motherland", country J, which is not geographically advantageous, has become a forgotten corner. Unlike other countries with military industry background, the army of country J has nothing to do except cattle and sheep on the grassland.
You have to rely on yourself to sell everything.
Since those years, Morov has long learned to take care of himself and his brothers.
In his words, no matter how loyal I am, I am only loyal to my own pocket.
The business brought by this old friend was very simple. One of his friends from Ichkeria wanted to make a deal with a certain tribal leader in Shtuva Town here. However, since it was the first transaction, although Ichkeria
The Kriyas are famous for their toughness, but even though a strong dragon cannot overwhelm a local snake, the Ichkerian friend is still worried about being hacked because he needs Molov as a backup.
If they call Molov to ask for help on the day of the transaction, then Molov can come forward in the name of the border guard, nominally taking away the Ichkerians entering the country, but secretly protecting them.
If the transaction goes well, all he needs to do is turn a blind eye and pretend that this has not happened, and he will also give him a considerable amount of U.S. dollars.
Of course, if Molov needs to be used, the reward will be several times higher.
After hearing this, Molov immediately guessed what kind of "business" this would be.
The tribes in Shituwa Town have become more and more extreme in recent years. It is said that they have close ties with a terrorist organization classified as a separatist force by Country Z. Country Z has implemented high-pressure counter-terrorism in its territory in recent years. These guys'
The days are like grasshoppers after autumn, they can’t jump for long, so they all fled outside the country.
As Country J, which is closely adjacent to Country Z, these extremist organizations took advantage of the political turmoil in the past few years. They not only took root in the tribes along the border, but also established their own power.
When doing business with the Ichkerians, Morov could think of it with his toes.
But Morov had his own ideas.
My own territory is both poor and remote. As the saying goes, the mountains are high and the emperor is far away.
Anyway, as long as he didn't get involved deeply, he just assumed that these Ichikerians were smuggling alcohol and cigarettes. The key was to improve their lives with the money and his subordinates.
So I agreed immediately.
Tonight, before the phone rang, Moroff knew he was going to make a fortune.
The reason is very simple. There was a gun battle in the town of Stuva. According to the intelligence fed back by the local police department, a special forces team sneaked into the town, killed the leader Harik, and had a gun battle with the local tribal militia, and finally escaped without success.
trace.
Molov was both nervous and happy now.
The nervous thing is that this matter involves a lot, a special forces team? Who is this? Molov doesn't know about these, and he doesn't care.
However, I recently heard that the special forces of Country Z and Country J were holding exchange exercises in the border area. Could it be those people who did it?
This is the only thing that makes Morlov feel a little tricky.
But happily, the reward offered by the other party made his hair almost drip to the ground.
$500,000.
For Molov, this is really not a small sum of money.
And what I have to do is very simple, that is, in the name of escort, Ichkerians are sent from the direction of Stuva Town to the border of neighboring H country, where there will be friends of Ichkerians.
Just wait and hand it over to them.
Molov has studied the entire route, and it seems that it is within the scope of his own territory. He is escorted in the name of his own border guards. Others dare not interfere. Unless the regular government troops receive a report and directly intercept it, even the tribal armed forces will not have the guts.
Brazenly intercepting border guards.
So, he agreed.
In the darkness, four beams of car lights pierced the darkness, illuminating Molov's face.
He tore off the last bit of tender meat from the roasted lamb leg, threw the bones on the ground, wiped his oily hands on his camouflage uniform, and turned around to wave to his men beside the four military vehicles behind him.
"Stop them and go up and see who they are!"
Several soldiers came forward with submachine guns and stopped the two trucks.
The people in the car shouted loudly in Russian: "Is this Lieutenant Colonel Morov? We are good friends of Belenkovich! It was he who introduced us to you."
Molov's heart suddenly brightened.
In fact, in the middle of the night, two Ural trucks drove onto such a barren road. Who else could be there besides those Ichkerians?
"Let them come over!"
Morlov gave orders to his men.
The soldier moved out of the way, and a tall Ichikerian man with a high nose, a thick beard, a black beanie and camouflage uniforms walked towards him.
"Lieutenant Colonel Molov? I am a friend of Belenkovich. My name is Shamily. He said that if he has any difficulties, he can come to you. Lieutenant Colonel, you are a generous person."
With his hands raised, Shamili walked up to Morov.
"Belenkovich did tell me about you. Put your hands down, my friend. I think he, in addition to telling you that I am a generous person, is also a realist." Morov's
Those small eyes were looking at Shamili in front of him, as if trying to find the 500,000 US dollars in cash from him.
Shamili understood immediately. No one could fail to see the message in a pair of greedy eyes.
He turned around and snapped his fingers in the direction of the Ural truck.
"Bring us the gift we gave the Lieutenant Colonel."
An Ichkerian rebel soldier was walking towards here carrying a black suitcase, but was stopped by Morov's men.
Molov waved his hand. He knew that although the Ichkerians were fierce, they would never be disadvantageous to him at this time. He was the safest way for them to leave Country J.
The black suitcase was quickly handed over to Shamili.
He placed the suitcase on the hood of the SUV next to Morov and turned the code a few times.
Click——
The cover popped open and Shamili opened the top cover of the lockbox.
The neat hundred-dollar bills instantly turned Molov's eyes green.