5: Tell him to come see me! Now!

"Are you joking? Or are you an undercover agent sent by the Government Army, trying to catch us all in one swoop?"

Jorge's gaze instantly became incredibly sharp, and his hand subtly reached for his waist.

The atmosphere in the room instantly solidified.

Juan and the others behind David raised their MK556 Assault Rifles almost simultaneously.

The dark muzzles were aimed directly at Jorge.

With just a look from David, this so-called cartel backbone would immediately be shot into a pulp.

"Don't be nervous, Mr. Jorge."

David, however, simply picked up the red wine on the table, swirled it gently, his face completely calm.

"Anything on the list, I can get. Anything not on the list, as long as you can afford the price, I can still get it for you."

He took a sip of wine and said leisurely:

"As for who I am, you don't need to know."

"You just need to understand that my clients are all over the world, from African warlords to Middle Eastern princes."

"Compared to them, your Santa Ana Cartel's business, frankly, is a bit beneath me."

"I'm only giving you this opportunity out of respect for Andres, and because I coincidentally find the Bolivian market somewhat interesting."

These words were incredibly arrogant.

But coupled with the six murderous bodyguards behind him.

And that weapons list, enough to overthrow a small South America country, it all seemed perfectly natural.

Cold sweat beaded on Jorge's forehead.

He had no doubt that if he made any further sudden moves, he would be shot dead the next second.

He swallowed hard, lowered the hand reaching for his waist, and forced a smile that looked worse than crying.

"Mr. David... please don't misunderstand. This... this order is too large, I can't make the decision. I must, I must report to my boss immediately."

"Go ahead." David made a gesture inviting him to leave.

"However, my time is limited. I have to fly to the Middle East in a few days. You better hurry up; I don't have time to wait around here."

"Understood, understood!"

Jorge, as if granted amnesty, scrambled out of the private room.

Watching his pathetic retreating figure, David curled his lips into a cold smile.

He turned to Juan and said, "Juan, go out and get the brothers moving."

"Bring out all the 'toys' we hid, find a good position nearby, and be ready to provide support at any time."

"Yes, Boss!" Juan nodded and immediately turned to leave.

To deal with these desperadoes, simply having the goods isn't enough; you must have the power to overturn the table.

They must understand that double-crossing is not an option when dealing with him.

Santa Ana Cartel Group Headquarters, inside a massive manor located in the suburbs.

The atmosphere was suffocatingly oppressive.

Group leader Gomez, a man in his fifties with sinister eyes, was pacing restlessly in the room.

On the floor lay a smashed expensive cigar box.

Several of his trusted subordinates stood by, silent and trembling.

"Damn it! Those damned cops again!" Gomez kicked over a nearby chair and swore loudly.

"They busted one of our docks last week, and today they cut off our route to Brazil!"

"And those bastards up North, taking advantage of the situation and stealing several shipments from us! Do they really think I'm a pushover!"

A muscular man with a full beard couldn't help but speak: "Boss, we can't let this continue!"

"The military police are getting worse and worse. If we don't fight back, we won't be able to do business! Why don't we just..."

He made a throat-slitting gesture.

"Just what? Start a war with the Government Army?" another tall, thin man immediately retorted.

"Are you crazy? The gear we have is fine for messing with the police, but if we really fight the army."

"They'll come with tanks and planes, what do we use to fight back?"

Seeing his subordinates about to argue, Gomez roared, "Everyone shut up!"

The entire room instantly fell silent.

Gomez slumped back onto the sofa, rubbing his throbbing temples.

He had money—dollars that several lifetimes couldn't spend.

But he couldn't buy heavy weapons capable of matching the Government Army.

Those international arms dealers were all as cunning as ghosts.

Selling rifles and grenades was fine, but the moment sensitive equipment like tanks or attack helicopters was involved, they ran faster than anyone.

Without these big toys, how could he fight the government's regular army?

Just then, a confidant quickly walked in and whispered a few words into the ear of his most trusted brother, Arce.

Arce's expression changed, and he immediately walked over to Gomez, lowering his voice: "Big Brother, Jorge has news."

"What good news could that useless fellow have?" Gomez impatiently waved his hand.

"No, Big Brother, this time it's different!" Arce's voice carried a hint of excitement.

"Jorge said he found a new arms dealer, one who can supply heavy weapons!"

"What?!"

Gomez sprang up from the sofa, grabbed Arce's shoulder, his eyes bloodshot.

"Are you telling the truth? Not some money-scamming trick?"

"Absolutely true!" Arce also grew excited. "Jorge sent over the other party's list. It includes t-72 tanks."

"There are Mi-24 Attack Helicopters, and even... even Ka-50s and Grad Rocket Launchers!"

Gomez completely froze.

His breathing became incredibly heavy, and a terrifying light burst forth from his eyes.

Ka-50s! Grads!

If he could get his hands on these things... let alone the mere Bolivian military police, even if the American DEA came, he would dare to take them on!

"Have him come see me! Immediately! Now!" Gomez's voice was hoarse from extreme excitement.

"Have Jorge bring him over personally! I want to see this guy with my own eyes!"

"Yes!"

Arce immediately turned and issued orders to his subordinates.

Inside the private restaurant.

Having received the call, Jorge's attitude made a complete 180-degree turn.

He respectfully returned before David, his back nearly bent at a ninety-degree angle.

"David, our boss... Mr. Gomez, wants to see you immediately."

David raised an eyebrow, seemingly unsurprised.

"Alright."

"The cars are ready; we'll depart now." Jorge quickly led the way.

The night was deep.

Several black SUVs formed a convoy, silently driving out of Santa Cruz City.

And sped toward the cartel's lair—Santa Ana City.

A few kilometers behind them, five inconspicuous pickup trucks and vans also started their engines and followed, keeping a moderate distance.

Inside the vehicles were over twenty fully armed Death Sworn led by Juan.

After several hours of driving, the convoy finally arrived in Santa Ana City around midnight.

This place was entirely the cartel's domain; armed personnel carrying guns were visible everywhere on the streets.

However, Jorge did not take David to the headquarters manor. Instead, after several turns, he entered a hotel that looked quite ordinary.

"Mr. David, please bear with us and rest here for the night."

Jorge explained, "It's too late now; the boss will see you tomorrow morning. This place is... safer and less conspicuous."

David saw through his little scheme but couldn't be bothered to expose it.

He led his people into the room, checked it thoroughly, and after confirming there were no listening devices, he sat casually on the sofa.

Before long, there was a knock on the door.

Jorge walked in, bringing two curvy, scantily clad Latina women.

"Mr. David, this is a small token of goodwill from our boss. We hope you have a pleasant evening," Jorge said, winking.

David glanced at the two women who looked slightly timid but were still trying hard to force seductive smiles.

He did not refuse.

He simply waved his hand at Jorge, as if dismissing a servant.

"I understand. You may leave."

Jorge wisely retreated and thoughtfully closed the door.

David looked at the two bewildered women in front of him and spoke lightly.

"Go take a shower."