The Russian Claim
In just a week, the sales division had been restructured and was operating smoothly again. There had been some staff turnover at the employee level, of course. I wasn't thrilled about it, but I'd already decided on a policy to keep supplying product even to the guys who'd been caught once. According to Director Jo, getting busted once teaches you how to avoid it the next time. Some even pick up new skills inside detention centers or prisons. After a stint inside, the organization's warnings tend to land harder too. He added that little detail with a chuckle. If things go well from the start, people naturally assume it's because they're talented. It wasn't wrong, so I approved it. He laughed and said even if they got picked up again, they could just work the prison line. It created a nice little virtuous cycle.
Looking into it, the prison line's growth was frighteningly fast. The upside was that it wasn't expanding as visibly as Director Seon's operation had, so I left it alone. That side of the business had always been active anyway, and the higher-ups were providing cover, which put me at ease. Director Jo was already greasing the wheels through his corrections-department contact and expanding the territory. It could turn into a whole new revenue stream.
The factories and farms were producing without issues. A recent report noted success with poppy cultivation. That young man in the maid outfit must be doing good work. The plan was to start in Yeongcheon rather than Shinan. From Haman Factory, ExpressAli and Mai were reportedly working together on line design. Director Jo also sent word that the organization would soon have surplus inventory. I told him to store whatever extra we had; it wouldn't hurt to keep a little on hand. I also warned him that the supply coming through Ali might dry up. Once things were sorted on the Russian side, we'd need time to build new lines and trust, so we might have to rely on our own stock for a while. Losing a customer's trust because we ran out of product was unacceptable, which was why the farm fire had been so alarming.
The US Army contact seemed to be handling business as carefully as Ghost. The Cider guy looked swamped reorganizing the Busan organization. Yeoni had complained about him running a tight ship, but after I calmed her down, she went quiet, which probably meant things were moving along. Busan had yielded plenty from that single operation. The cleanup around Prosecutor Seo and the prison connections were both solid. Incheon and Bucheon were cruising along; surprisingly, the Chinese crews hadn't made much headway there. The occasional low-quality product still trickled in, but it was nothing worth worrying about anymore.
Gangnam remained the same chaotic battlefield. Endless new designer drugs, untraceable shipments, and bottom-feeder distributors. Our organization was holding its own, though progress felt slower than expected. Still, the talent that had risen through Gangnam now formed the backbone of our group, so I decided to think of it as our officer academy. Checking the roster, roughly half the managers and above in sales had started out dealing in Gangnam. About twenty-five percent came from Incheon and Bucheon, twenty percent from Gyeongnam, and the rest from elsewhere. Even so, our highest-margin distribution channel was still the Sleeping Series. The product going into hospitals, dermatology clinics, wellness centers, and massage parlors carried margins north of ninety percent. It had been Director Seon's core line. After the purge, one of the new directors took it over and restructured the distribution to match our organization's style. They kept it low-profile by acquiring an existing logistics company, setting up a new entity, and securing actual distribution rights from the pharmaceutical firm that handled our Cheonan Factory OEM products. They were now supplying hospitals and pharmacies across the capital region, with the Sleeping Series slipped in among legitimate shipments. Plans to expand to major provincial cities were already on the table, and Busan was already underway.
I was still buried in paperwork when the message arrived.
I'd heard ExpressAli was getting ready to tap into the Haman Factory supply. I replied.
The man still slipped into foreigner mode now and then.
So Vladimir's people had followed through.
This business was too small for that kind of move.
When I pushed back, Ali started selling me on it. The price was good and the volume was large. My experience wasn't going to be ignored that easily. Only then did he tell the truth.
Not on some coin or stock. He'd gotten burned by that same Chinese crew. I'd warned him the Russians were cleaning house. Still, the terms and volume had apparently been too good to pass up. The man really hadn't learned that cheap goods from a stranger are never a bargain. He'd scraped together advance payment by borrowing from everywhere, even local loan sharks. Cross-border loan sharks had no mercy. As expected, once the Chinese crew vanished, the Russian line claimed ownership of the shipment. They'd somehow found out the details because the scale was massive. Fifty kilos of cannabis and a hundred kilos of opium. At domestic street value that was fifty-five billion won. The Russians would have spotted that immediately.
Ali had grown. Sixty billion won in advance payment was no small sum. When I threw the number back at him with a hint of sarcasm, he either didn't catch the tone or pretended not to and kept pleading in that pitiful voice.
What did he expect me to do about it?
At least he'd secured the goods. The real problem was payment.
They'd obtained the shipping details during the raid on the Chinese crew. The shipment was already sitting at Gwangyang Port, waiting for the vessel to dock. No matter how I looked at it, there was nothing I could do to intervene. I had no answer for him.
That was never going to happen. Those men were already waiting with blood in their eyes to take what was theirs.
He really was desperate. After that last message, I told him I'd try.
I sighed. It looked like I was going to have to step in. I didn't want to. I was ashamed of how I'd looked the other way last time.
I waited, wondering how to bring it up. Ten minutes later the reply came.
I was going to need at least twenty masks for this conversation. Time to be shameless.
My mask cracked with his next words.
Damn it. He already knew everything.
Was that sarcasm? I had to let it pass. Or was I the one holding the cards here?
So he'd already decided it was theirs.
The Russian bear didn't leave any room for negotiation.
I made my own threat. They weren't going to resolve this inside Korea.