Red Notice
I must have had the kind of face that said "Why don't you go to Hawaii yourself," because Director Jo's expression hardened as he explained.
"An Interpol red notice has been issued."
The request had come through the pipeline our IT team had set up. No matter how they looked at it, the profile matched me. He handed over the files, and I immediately understood why the executives had been so worried. My name and face weren't identified yet, but the activity log alone made it obvious.
The operating region was Northeast Asia. Primary merchandise: cocaine, cannabis, opium, heroin. Major clients: Japan, the Philippines, northern China, the United States. Up to that point it could have been anyone, but the next line removed all doubt.
Camilio Cartel Asia representative.
Where had they picked that up? The United States. America… Our dear U.S. President was trying to have me arrested. I felt like I'd been marked by the self-appointed policeman of the world, so I immediately contacted Uncle Gonzales.
When I got through, he said the same thing Director Jo had.
"Lie low for a while."
-heygonzales(39.0)
When I asked for an explanation, he said things had gone sideways. With the change in administration, they'd been working through government channels, but the new president had drawn a hard line and marked their organization as opposition. When I asked what I should do, he answered calmly.
"We're going under too. Once they clean out the rival groups, they'll reach out to us. They've always done it that way."
-heygonzales(39.0)
I told Executive Director Ha and Director Jo about the situation in Mexico and suggested we all go into hiding together. Executive Director Ha replied in his usual calm tone.
"If I get arrested in your place and wrap things up, that wouldn't be so bad either."
When I said that wasn't an option, Director Jo backed him up.
"Trust us. Even if we get picked up, we'll be out quickly. This would be our first offense."
I couldn't help but laugh at the words "first offense." Asia representative for the Camilio Cartel, moving product by the ton, and still considered a first-time offender who could walk free. The next sentence left me no choice but to agree.
"If we do get arrested, I'm retiring for real."
First, I needed to decide whether to leave Korea. The executives suggested studying abroad, but staying in Korea didn't seem like a bad idea either. After all, I had the perfect identity in Eunsu. When I asked what they thought, the answer came back like a knife.
"You should leave as Eunsu."
If the organization kept running while I stayed in Korea, it would only create more confusion for the investigation. It made sense, so I agreed. When I asked where I should go, they told me to decide myself—they had no overseas infrastructure. I really needed to send them on a proper overseas trip sometime.
Japan, China, the Philippines, and Cancún were out. Going anywhere with major clients would only make it easier to get pulled in. I didn't even get to visit the security team's training facility before heading straight back to Seoul with Secretary Ko and Cheol-min. There was no time.
On the way up, I asked them to stay in Korea and act on my behalf, and to follow any orders I sent.
"Understood."
The moment I got home I packed a quick bag, grabbed the emergency dollars I'd been keeping, and took my passport. I caught a taxi to Incheon Airport and checked the next available international flight. There was a Korean Air flight to London Heathrow leaving in three hours. I went to the counter and bought a ticket—under the name Eunsu, of course. I asked for business class, but they were full, so I took economy. Thirteen and a half hours. I'd just have to endure it. Better than getting arrested.
From that moment on I sat in the airport and searched like a storm—everything about living in London.
"Hi, Lucas~"
Where was I? Near Waterloo Station in London, at a language school. Out of habit I'd almost used GB, but I'd written a fake name instead. Lucas Choi.
My thinking went like this: a second-year university student had two possible reasons to be in London—English study or travel. But how do you justify six months of travel? No, I needed to do something, even if it was just for an alibi. A quick search showed plenty of one- and two-year English programs. I got lucky and found a school right in central London that had dorms attached. When I told Secretary Ko, he wired the money immediately. The start date happened to line up with my flight.
On the first day they gave me a level test. It started with simple conversation, but once they realized I could speak some English, the difficulty went up. Why had I come? What was my major? My short academic record hit its limit. The teachers nodded and told me to wait outside. Later I found out they'd placed me in the intermediate class.
I told Miju a white lie—that I'd been accepted into the language program I'd applied for. Someone had dropped out at the last minute, so I was leaving in a few days. I apologized for not telling her sooner. I braced myself for an angry reply, but she answered late at night, Korean time. She said she was the one who should be sorry. She congratulated me on getting in and said she wished she could see me off at the airport but probably couldn't. She was sorry.
I was the one who should be sorry. If it weren't for that American bastard…
She said she was swamped at the professor's lab, moving the existing products to the factory and preparing the new ones. She was doing sample testing support at the pharmaceutical plant. The instructions I'd given Secretary Ko must have gone through. If things were going well, I should tell her. Actually, she might have already reported it to me. I could just ask again. With everything going on, I was getting shameless. While it was on my mind, I contacted Secretary Ko and asked for an update on the biosimilar factory. He sent a full business plan by email.
Company name: WJ Pharmaceuticals Co., Ltd. Named after the professor, I suppose. Fine by me. The research lab was where Miju was currently working, and the factory was the investment property we'd been looking at. He'd said they were acquiring it, and apparently it had gone through. They were modifying the existing equipment for the professor's current project and had outsourced the work to Pfizer's specialist team. Construction cost around five billion won and was underway, with cGMP approval pending. He said it should go smoothly with the professional team handling the setup. The production line would be overseen by the specialist team for two years before technology transfer to domestic staff. The professor's students were helping, with plans to hire them later. A formal contract had been signed with Pfizer, who had offered to invest, but Accountant Kim said it wasn't necessary and that we'd fund it ourselves. Something about disclosure requirements and future dividend demands if we took equity investment. He also warned that an accounting audit request would be a headache if the numbers didn't line up. Ownership was split 40% to the professor and 60% to us, though the shares were divided among several trusts and individual names. Probably laundered on the way in.
The first product was a rheumatoid arthritis treatment. A Swiss pharmaceutical company held the patent, which would expire at the end of the year. We were preparing the biosimilar and were the fastest, which was why Pfizer had accepted the deal. When I asked, Secretary Ko explained that later entrants usually got squeezed on price or received only small volumes as backup suppliers. The professor's item had high global demand, so it wouldn't be that bad, but getting ahead was fortunate.
When I asked how much the acquisition had cost, he said around fifty billion won. I remembered the budget being around thirty billion. He explained that real estate prices had risen, plus accounting and laundering fees and setup costs had pushed it up. When I asked how the laundering was done, he said Accountant Kim had handled it and gave an explanation I didn't fully follow. He also mentioned convertible bonds—the professor could be forced out if he couldn't put in more money later. I told him not to do that. The man wasn't well; let him finish the research he wanted to do. Secretary Ko added that the professor's passion was so strong he was already preparing the next item. When he asked for more research funding and was told there were no sales yet, he'd offered his own shares as collateral.
"Yes, support him."
From what I was hearing, Secretary Ko had become the biosimilar manager. He seemed to know everything about it.
Walking from Waterloo Station toward the Thames, I read the business plan and talked with Secretary Ko until the sunset. The London Eye was visible in the distance. Yesterday morning I'd been in Korea, and now I was suddenly on the other side of the world. It felt unreal. For now, I'd study some English like a proper language student and maybe do some traveling. I should see Europe while I had the chance.