Chapter 37: The Conclusion
Mike slid into the car and turned to Brian, his eyes inquiring, "Did you receive the call from Giselle?" Brian nodded affirmatively.
"Good! Let's proceed," Mike replied with determination.
This had all been part of Mike's meticulously crafted plan—to neutralize Fenix first, and then confront Campos head-on.
Grasping the weighty box tightly in his hand, Mike dialed Giselle's number. His voice was steady as he relayed their next move.
On the other end of the line, Giselle conveyed their demand to Campos, her voice firm and unwavering. "Mike wants 8 million dollars, or he will expose the drugs at the police station."
Campos glared at Giselle, his reproachful gaze piercing through her. "This is the consequence of your actions, Giselle," he chided, his tone laced with disappointment.
Giselle's voice trembled with remorse as she responded, "I'm sorry."
In the midst of their conversation, Mike's call connected, and he wasted no time. "Put Campos on the line," he instructed Giselle, his voice commanding.
"Hello, Campos! I propose a deal with Braga," Mike stated boldly, a hint of intrigue in his tone.
Campos, attempting to project an air of aggression, suddenly found himself faltering. His chest tightened uncomfortably, and a flicker of vulnerability passed through his eyes.
"Braga never negotiates," Campos asserted, trying to regain his composure.
"Then I'll pay Braga a personal visit," Mike shot back, his resolve unwavering.
"Alright! Where and when?" Campos relented, his curiosity piqued by Mike's audacity.
With a knowing smile, Mike revealed the agreed-upon rendezvous, and they both set off on their separate paths.
Mike ensured Brian was ready, handing him the incriminating recording with a solemn instruction, "I don't trust the chief. You'll assume control when the time comes,"
"Okay! No problem," Brian acknowledged, understanding the pivotal role he was to play within the police station.
Brian strode into the chief's office, an air of purposefulness surrounding him. "We need to have a talk," he asserted, his voice carrying a sense of authority.
The chief, caught off guard, quizzically inquired, "Talk about what?"
Brian wasted no time, hitting play on the tape and delivering his response with an air of certainty, "About this."
The chief's face blanched as he hastily closed the office door, concern etched across his features. "What are you doing?" he demanded, his voice laced with a mixture of anxiety and frustration.
"I demand command and authority," Brian asserted resolutely, his unwavering gaze locked onto the chief's eyes.
Brian's words hung in the air, and a moment of hesitation passed.
Realizing the potential consequences, the director relented, a glimmer of defeat in his eyes.
"Alright, you win," he conceded, promptly reaching for the phone to make the necessary arrangements.
With control now firmly in Brian's hands, he assumed the role of authority within the police station, his demeanor resolute and composed.
Meanwhile, Mike arrived at the predetermined location, his hand firmly clasping the loaded gun, prepared for any eventuality.
Stepping out of the car, Mike approached Campos with an apologetic tone, "I apologize! I was in a rush earlier and inadvertently injured Fenix and your men."
Campos, perplexed, questioned, "Where are they?"
Mike replied nonchalantly, a hint of mischief in his tone, "Haven't they returned? Perhaps they got lost along the way."
Campos' patience waned, his frustration mounting. "Enough games," he snapped. "Tell me your conditions."
"8 million dollars, payment and delivery in one fell swoop," Mike stated firmly, unyielding in his demands.
Campos, growing suspicious, insisted, "I want to inspect the goods first."
A mischievous glint appeared in Mike's eyes as he countered, "Then let me propose this: I want to see Braga first."
At that moment, just as in the original plot, an elderly man with a shock of white hair stepped out of a nearby car, carrying a bag overflowing with dollar bills.
Unfazed by the old man's peculiar appearance, Mike tossed the drug box toward Braga, seemingly oblivious to any irregularities.
Simultaneously, Mike uttered a single word to Brian in his intercom, "Now Brian."
With a sense of anticipation, the box was opened, revealing not drugs but mounds of stones. The ruse had been uncovered.
Campos, perceptive as ever, swiftly retreated, beckoning Giselle to join him in their vehicle.
A flicker of panic passed through Campos as he commanded, "Drive fast! Hit him and kill him!"
In response, Giselle produced a pistol, her aim steady as she pointed it at Campos. "I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice laced with resolve.
Not one to be outmatched, Mike brandished his own weapon, unleashing a hail of bullets that left their adversaries sprawled on the ground, writhing in agony.
Moans filled the air as bodies lay motionless, their limbs pierced by well-aimed shots.
Mike's voice carried a tone of authority, "Don't move, I cannot guarantee that my gun will let your heads intact if you move a single inch."
Giselle maintained her grip on Campos, escorting him out of the vehicle.
Campos resigned to his fate, muttered, "If you desire money, I can provide it. I'm merely a subordinate of Braga."
Mike's smile widened, and he addressed Campos with a hint of playful mischief, "Braga, surprised, aren't you? Surprised?"
Campos' expression shifted, a mixture of astonishment and resignation clouding his face.
"How do you know?" he asked, his voice tinged with a sense of apprehension.
Mike exchanged a knowing glance with Giselle, their laughter echoing through the air.
Realizing that Giselle had divulged the information, Campos fixed his gaze upon her, his voice tinged with betrayal.
"Why did you betray me?" he questioned, his words laden with a mixture of hurt and curiosity.
Giselle stood firm, her voice resolute, "Because he can give me freedom."
Campos retorted, skepticism seeping into his tone, "Freedom? Do people like us truly possess freedom? Do you honestly believe he will give you such a privilege?"
Giselle's unwavering conviction shone through as she replied, "I believe in him. He values loyalty. He won't turn on a trusted ally like me. He remains committed to his friends, no matter the cost."
Accepting his fate, Campos nodded, a sense of resignation washing over him.
At that moment, Brian joined the gathering, his countenance calm yet tinged with an underlying sense of dissatisfaction.
He couldn't help but harbor thoughts of being overshadowed.
If Mike had heard Brian's inner thoughts, he would have emphatically declared, 'You're not here to be a wallflower! You're here to roll up your sleeves and get your hands dirty,'
Addressing Brian, Mike spoke with a twinge of regret, "We'll continue our collaboration next time."
Brian's expression darkened, his features betraying a sense of frustration.
What more was there to do?
Continue cleaning up after him?
Am I just your assistant?
Brian's internal monologue echoed through his mind, though Mike remained oblivious to his thoughts.
As Brian departed with the team, Mike contacted Dom, and Mia drove to a secluded location.
Soon enough, Giselle arrived, accompanied by Campos' car.
Opening the trunk revealed a trove of banknotes—a fortune that had once belonged to Campos.
With a sense of satisfaction, Mike declared, "Let's split the money among us."
Dom, Mia, and Giselle couldn't contain their excitement.
After all, it's three million dollars that is now laying before them.
It turned out that Giselle had persuaded Campos earlier to bring more money for a smoother transaction, suggesting, 'If we can settle it with three million dollars, that would be for the best.'
Campos had readily agreed to Giselle's proposal, resulting in the substantial amount now resting in the trunk.
The following day, Campos, or rather Braga, was apprehended, bringing justice to their pursuits.
As for Brian, he awaited a future of appreciation and a salary boost for his commendable efforts.
Under the coercion of Mike and Brian, the director succumbed to their demands, granting Giselle, Don, Mia, Mike, and the rest of their team the power of pardon.
Meanwhile, due to his refusal to succumb to the director's greed, Brian smoothly ascended the ranks, securing a promotion and a transfer to a new location.
Knowing that he had irrevocably offended the director this time, Brian chose to withdraw, preventing the director from causing further trouble.
Mike glanced at Brian, a hint of regret in his eyes, but alas, the person entrusted with cleaning up the mess had departed.
Returning to his garage, Mike once again showcased his culinary skills, conjuring up mouthwatering dishes.
The aroma of fresh mutton skewers permeated the air, drawing both those who had experienced their tantalizing flavors before and those who were enticed by the irresistible scent.
Even those who had yet to taste them were captivated by the enticing fragrance. And of course, Mike extended an invitation to John, calling him to join the gathering.
However, when John finally arrived, Mike's quick reflexes caused him to redirect and extend his hand toward Dom instead, resulting in an unintended embrace.
Dom found himself caught in an awkward situation, unsure whether to accept or rebuff John's gesture of familiarity.
Recognizing the awkwardness, Giselle approached Mike, embracing him tightly, and whispered, "Thank you!"
Mia, witnessing the affectionate hug, couldn't help but cast jealous glances in their direction.
Sensing Mia's envy, Giselle gazed mischievously at Mike before remarking, "Perhaps you aided Dom not only out of friendship but also for the sake of his sister." Her words were candid, leaving Mia feeling flustered.
At that moment, Letty joined the circle, offering a heartfelt hug to Mike. "Thank you," she expressed with sincerity.
Dom, too, joined the circle, embracing Mike in a show of appreciation.
John, observing the scene, remarked, "It seems you have done something truly remarkable."
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