[Chapter 208: Butterfly Spreads Its Wings]
Los Angeles Harbor.
Night.
Ian Carr stood on a dock, the night breeze blowing, his gaze deep towards the sea.
Some people at the harbor were loading cargo.
Crips, leaning on a cane, stood beside him, whispering, "He's here."
Ian nodded softly.
After a moment, a middle-aged man approached.
It was Amr Hussein.
He stood next to Ian, looked around, and asked, "Is it safe?"
Ian chuckled lowly, "That's not something you need to worry about."
Amr Hussein thought for a moment, then smiled quietly, "True. How much cargo this time?"
"One hundred million."
Amr sighed, "Too expensive."
Ian Carr, that greedy guy, was asking for ten times the price!
Ian laughed, "I told you before, investment is the way to go."
Amr nodded lightly, "We can put forward two billion first, but you must ensure all the money is used for this."
Ian shook his head, "I can't."
He turned to Amr, "Let me put it this way: I want to use that money! The only thing you can expect is I deliver the cargo; don't think of anything else. Just think of this as an interest-free loan. As a thank you, I can slightly lower the price. That's it."
"You didn't say that last time. Last time, you said you'd use our money to buy weapons from the profits."
"The problem is you want too much; the profits aren't enough," Ian smiled.
I knew you were a greedy guy!
But luckily, the terrorists would rather deal with a greedy man than with patriotic idealists who have limits.
Amr was helpless, "Anything else?"
Ian smiled slightly, "Two billion is just the beginning. Every time I give you weapons and ammo worth one billion, you borrow another billion from me, eventually not less than ten billion total, and then you get as much cargo as you want!"
Those weapons and drugs worth a billion, that's still priced at retail, right?
Damn!
Ian Carr really knew business.
But few could help them in this.
Amr thought a moment, "You must allow us to pay with drugs and give us some drug manufacturing equipment."
Afghanistan, under the Taliban's rule, had a huge drug business, and the US was the world's biggest drug consumer -- so Americans weren't saints, and neither were the Taliban.
Ian didn't traffic drugs, but what did the Crips' business have to do with him?
He smiled slightly, "Talk to Crips about that part, that's not on me."
Amr said nothing more and began talking with Crips.
...
Ian quietly observed this.
Suddenly, his brow furrowed, and he shouted, "Someone's watching us from the shadows."
What?
Crips and Amr were startled.
"Police?"
"FBI?"
Ian's voice calm, "No, probably a reporter. Behind us, about fifty meters away, behind a container."
Crips understood, called two men, gave instructions, and they circled to the back.
Amr struggled to resist looking back, strangely asking Ian, "How did you notice?"
Ian smirked, "I'm a top journalist, good at noticing everything."
Amr: "..."
...
After a while, sounds of a fight came from behind the container.
Ian didn't go over, just quietly waited.
Cargo was still being loaded.
After a moment, Crips came over.
He stood beside Ian respectfully, "Not reporters, they're from the Fort City Boys. One of our guys slipped up; Fort City Boys thought we were into something big and sent people to follow us."
Damn, can't your people be more reliable?
He glanced sideways at Crips.
Crips flinched, remembering those ten lashes.
He was helpless, "Those bastards always talk nonsense after drinking. You know, gangs by nature don't play by the rules."
"Sink," Ian said.
Crips was stunned, "Which?"
Ian said nothing, but Crips understood.
Both!
Crips respectfully withdrew.
Amr quietly said, "Gangsters are unreliable, both in skill and loyalty. Want me to send some men to you?"
Ian shook his head lightly, "Not for now. No matter how bad they are, they're still in my palm."
Ian didn't want to use Amr's people. Those religiously brainwashed guys were tough, controlling them would take huge effort!
Ten problems from Crips weren't as draining as one terrorist causing trouble!
Amr silently looked at Ian.
He couldn't understand Ian's confidence but felt his terror.
A man who could easily find any hidden shadow, skilled and powerful businessman, ruthless...
Nice!
That meant huge investment and cooperation value.
Cargo was finally loaded.
...
Leaving things to Crips, Ian and Amr got into a car and left the harbor.
In the car, Ian pulled out a cigar and offered it to Amr.
He shook his head gently, "I don't smoke that."
Ian smiled and put it away, "The dock and ship are taken care of. From now on, there can be one or two shipments monthly. You just deal with Crips. I won't be here to supervise every time, so next time if something happens, you better solve it yourselves."
Amr nodded.
He turned back to Crips, "Keep an eye on Fort City Boys. If there's trouble, tell me. But don't expect to make up charges just to have me back you up as muscle and get territory. A gang getting too big is no good, got it?"
Crips, caught off guard, smiled awkwardly.
Ian then looked at Amr, "What's your next move?"
Amr handed over a note.
Ian looked, a slight smile at the corner of his mouth.
He spoke to the front seat, "Vincent!"
The young man ahead smiled and turned.
Ian pointed to Vincent and told Amr, "My new Butterfly, I want him to shine like Philip Leyso."
Amr naturally understood, "Need to protect him?"
Vincent glared, "I have two years left to live, I don't want to die early... unless I have no choice!"
Amr laughed, "So you're afraid of death after all."
Ian sighed, "Who's not? Without fear of death, life has no value."
He leaned back in his seat, whispering like a poet, "When a butterfly flaps its wings, a hurricane sweeping the world will come!"
Amr said nothing, but his eyes blazed with revenge.
---
"Extra!"
"Super tanker MV Limburg explodes and catches fire off Yemen coast."
"Bali, the Indonesian tourist spot, hit by devastating explosion."
"Car bomb explodes at Paradise Hotel in Mombasa, Kenya."
"Israeli passenger plane narrowly escapes missile attack at Mombasa airport."
The third quarter of 2002 passed in blood and turmoil.
In days after the World Cup, terror attacks happened almost constantly.
Some were events historically present but with changed timing, others never happened before.
"Car bombing in Arizona kills four, injures twelve. FOX special correspondent Butterfly reporting live!"
"Wyoming Benjamin Building bombed; luckily the building did not collapse. FOX special correspondent Butterfly reporting, don't be confused, I'm a different Butterfly."
"Michigan music festival shooting massacre kills 31, wounds 167."
Those violent events previously nonexistent became media headlines, painting the world in blood-red glory.
Except the music festival massacre wasn't by Middle Eastern groups, almost all other events were related to them.
This was their furious retaliation, their counterattack!
And Ian Carr's job was to faithfully record and report, fulfilling promises to major news agencies wildly.
News Corporation, CBS, Gannett Group, all smiled broadly.
The world's pain was the media's celebration!
*****
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