America: Starting with Daily Intelligence Chapter 175

Allen Zhang also took out his phone and explained the job to him, "There will be a silver Chevrolet van trafficking a batch of human organs tonight. Korean Doctor Han, who works on medical cosmetics projects, will make some purchases from this van. The cheapest thing carried on that van is enough for us to pick up cans for a year."

"Is this a small business? We should inform Officer Mig about this!" Sieg exclaimed in shock, "Organ trafficking is a felony!!"

"What you’re talking about is old news. Nowadays, the only ones who actually get caught and convicted are just scapegoats. The waters run deep here, it’s not impossible that even congress members and celebrity tycoons are involved," Allen said. "You can consult with Officer Mig and see how he’ll answer you."

By coincidence, they arrived at a red light intersection, and Sieg stopped the car to send a message to Officer Mig.

He received a reply shortly after.

Mig: The van’s license plate is registered under a downtown charity organization, it has legal documentation, and conducts government-approved skin bank business. I don’t have the clearance to inquire more details, and I suggest you stay out of this.

Sieg took a deep breath, "Since when does a legitimate business need to be conducted in a van on the streets in the middle of the night, all sneaky?"

"Didn’t you ever encounter something when you were in the military? Or some sort of escort mission?" Allen was curious.

"How could that be! The most the army assigned was smuggling military arms."

Sieg cleared his throat, "I can’t divulge the details, but you only need to know that a Stinger missile or a crate of arms is worth much more than organs. In the army, a bag of screws is comparable to a kidney."

"So you think this is small fry," Allen nodded.

The United States spends nearly $900 billion on military expenses every year, but the amount that actually goes to military deployment is probably less than one-third. It’s a restricted zone that outsiders can’t touch. Every time an investigator is dispatched, the plane blows up halfway there.

What a coincidence. Death comes calling!

It’s not dying of a sudden heart attack halfway there, it’s disappearing right after takeoff.

The red light turned green, and Sieg asked, "Are we still going? Mig said we should not touch this."

"He’s part of the system, there are things he can’t freely speak of, but we’re outsiders, we don’t need to follow any rules or fear the wolves and tigers,"

Allen said, "I just want to ask Doctor Han how much it would cost to replace a part, I don’t plan on provoking the Black driver. Who knows if he’s carrying Victor or an M4 rifle, or maybe some C4 to conveniently clean up any traces."

"Ok." Sieg started the vehicle, pressed the gas pedal, and sped away from the street.

They soon arrived at their destination. Sieg parked the car on the side of the road, turned off the engine, and blended into the darkness.

Allen glanced at the time. There was still some time until midnight, so he reclined the seat all the way back, reminded Sieg to wake him up, put on sunglasses, and started to doze off lying back.

About half an hour hazily passed, a van came from the alleys and stopped by Kajin Bridge.

The stakeouting Sieg saw its arrival and immediately woke up Allen, who was resting with his eyes closed, "Is that the van?"

Allen returned the seatback to its upright position, took a glance at the license plate number LS-96N-12, noted the paint was silver-gray and the car emblem was the Chevrolet EXPRESS model.

Allen didn’t hurry to get out of the car. Who knew if there were any heavy-duty weapons on board? Their target was not Black, the driver, so there was no need to take the risk of upfront confrontation and attract trouble.

He popped a mint-flavored chewing gum into his mouth to refresh his mind and carefully continued the stakeout, sitting in the car with Sieg, waiting a little longer.

A few minutes later, indeed, a figure wearing a mask and a black wide-brimmed hat appeared on the street corner, looking sneaky.

Glancing left and right, the figure approached the car and knocked on the window. The person in the Chevrolet never got out, just rolled down the passenger side window, and extended a hand from the dark interior. Doctor Han immediately handed over the oil-paper bag he was holding.

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