Chapter 577 - 521: Trading with Shorty

Soon, as expected, Ganard hung up the phone and agreed to Song Heping's demands.

Right.

Demands.

Not requests.

For Mexico, they lacked the power to contend with the Americans.

Song Heping, now playing the CIA card, was someone no one dared to challenge.

Shorty was quickly brought out, and when he saw Song Heping in the windbreak hall, he was clearly taken aback.

He never would have imagined that the guy who got him jailed would have the guts to meet him in prison.

"Don't look at me as if you want to eat me alive; I'm here to save you."

It was only after the guard left and the two of them—Song Heping and Joaquin—were alone in the airing hall that he revealed a smile and said.

"Are you coming here to show off to me? Don't think I can't do anything to you just because I've been caught. Let me tell you, kid, you're dead!"

Joaquin's face was gloomy, his eyes filled with ruthless light, staring intently at Song Heping.

There was no doubt that if he weren't shackled, he probably would have already charged at Song Heping with all his might.

"Shorty, perhaps you're still unaware of the situation you're currently facing."

Song Heping gestured around.

"You've been in here before, haven't you?"

Shorty's face was sullen, and speaking through clenched teeth he said, "So what if I have, you think this place can hold me?"

"I know you've got money, the first time you escaped from here, you bribed all the guards and lay comfortably hidden in a laundry cart out of prison," Song Heping said with a smile: "So you think you can do it again."

Shorty said, "Money is a good thing, so are guns."

There was deep meaning in that statement.

Money can buy people off, guns can kill.

In Mexico, Shorty had billions of US dollars worth of fortune, countless cash vaults, and he shared his wealth by helping the poor.

On this land, he was a king without a crown. Many people didn't dislike this drug dealer; they even considered him a hero.

For many years, the Americans have wreaked havoc in Mexico, and the Mexicans think that drug lords trafficking drugs into the United States is just tit for tat, nothing excessively heinous.

Shorty's confidence was rooted here.

If the police came after him, he fought the police until they feared him.

If a congressman tangled with him, he tangled back—assassinations, kidnappings, wiping out families, until the congressman yielded.

If a mayor wanted to enforce drug abatement, then send the mayor to discuss it with God first; if they come back, then they can talk drugs.

Shorty had many ways to deal with Song Heping.

At the very least, his money could hire a military force of assassins to take out Song Heping.

"Sigh..."

Song Heping said, "You've been in Mexico for so many years, and yet you haven't learned a thing? It's a wonder how someone like you has lived this long."

He looked around again and then asked Shorty, "Haven't you noticed everything has changed since you were brought in these few days? Can you see anyone other than the prison guards? Can you speak a word to anyone? Have you not noticed that the guards watching you are all wearing masks? What kind of cell did you stay in the first time you were here? What kind of treatment did you get, and what about this time?"

A series of rhetorical questions made Shorty's eyes twitch slightly.

Song Heping wasn't wrong.

This time was indeed incomparable to his previous imprisonment.

Not to mention the prison guards, he couldn't even speak a word; even the cell conditions were vastly different.

Previously, when captured, he stayed in a luxury cell he had renovated with his own money—it had a phone, TV, air conditioning, and a big bed; aside from being locked up, it was no different from being outside.

But this time, he had to wear shackles in the cell, in an open-style cell with no cover, anyone could easily see everything inside; he was constantly under the watch of the guards.

The president who took office last year swore to eradicate the drug scourge; it seems he's serious.

Song Heping continued, "Wake up! The Americans are currently negotiating with the Mexican government to extradite you back to the United States for trial. Your money is very useful here, but it may not be omnipotent in the United States. Considering your crimes, in the United States, you'll get at least life imprisonment for several hundred years without parole. Do you think your money is still useful?"

Song Heping had already studied Shorty thoroughly before coming.

This guy feared nothing in Mexico.

But he wasn't without fear—he was truly afraid of being extradited to the United States.

In the United States, his influence was completely incomparable to here.

So, no matter when he was captured, Shorty and his lawyers had only one line—no matter the cost, they absolutely must prevent his extradition to the United States!

Previously, he believed his lawyers could handle it.

That's because he hadn't offended the CIA and DEA; there were still financial ties.

But this time, things were totally different.

He took the initiative to align with other Cartel Groups and families to turn against the CIA and DEA.

This time, whether it be the American Parliament, the Drug Enforcement Administration, or the intelligence agencies, they all wanted him dead, to remove a nuisance quickly; the words of this Chinese man seemed to be not just a threat.

Seeing that he remained silent, Song Heping said, "I've come here to rescue you, so you'd better recognize the opportunity."

"Rescue?" Shorty sneered, "You think I'm going to believe your bullshit?"

"First hear out the terms I'm offering, then think about whether you want to cooperate with me." Song Heping said, "I'm just a contractor, not a CIA agent. With me, everything is negotiable."

"You're after money?"

Hope flickered in Shorty's eyes, but it quickly died out.

"You? What do you have to offer?!"

He was questioning Song Heping's capabilities.

"The fact that I could get you into this place."

Song Heping never hesitated to take a crack at Shorty.

Scum like Shorty deserves a beating.

He grew up in slums, rising from a street thug to a drug lord of the century, and deep down he respects only the strong.

Shorty bends the knee to whoever is stronger.

Song Heping intended to crush his confidence, to stop him from acting like a big shot in front of him.

Fire was about to burst from Shorty's eyes again.

But he wasn't a fool after all.

Song Heping was right.

Shorty felt like he had met his match.

His adversary had seen through his hand, otherwise, he wouldn't have come to negotiate in jail.

What surprised him the most was that, from the sound of it, Song Heping wasn't with the CIA but a defense contractor.

"Are you here today under the guise of the CIA, or as a contractor?" He threw out the question.

Stance is critical, so is identity.

Different stances, different identities, mean different ways to deal with things.

Song Heping didn't mince words, directly stating his purpose: "Both."

After pondering for a moment, Shorty said, "Name your price."

Song Heping replied, "My price is—freedom."

Shorty was tempted, "How much money do you want? Go ahead, quote a bold figure."

Song Heping shook his head, "I don't want money."

Shorty asked in surprise, "Then what do you want?"

Song Heping said, "I want Balrot's smuggling network."

Shorty's face underwent a drastic change, and he said gravely, "I can't give you his territory and resources!"

Song Heping replied, "Cut the crap. Among all the cartel groups in Mexico, you have the best relationship with Balrot. You were the one who helped him start up. Originally, the CIA's target was him, seeking to hit your smuggling and sales channels by taking him down. It was sheer coincidence that you and several other group members were caught. If you're willing to help me, I can take control of Balrot's smuggling network."

Before Shorty could refuse again, Song Heping raised his hand and said, "You can keep pretending. I can wait. But let me remind you, the Americans will not give up on extraditing you. Whether it takes a year or two, in the end, there will be an outcome. If the Mexican government can't withstand the pressure and really extradites you to the United States, not even gods could save you then."

Shorty was internally conflicted, but still refused to give in, "Hmph! You think just because you lock me up in an American prison, the CIA and DEA could control Mexico's drug smuggling channels?"

"You're not wrong; it does have complications. Otherwise, why do you think I'm here wasting words with you? Or do you think I couldn't have simply killed you on the spot during the arrest?"

Song Heping had already analyzed and predicted this, and Shorty's threat was futile.

"Without your help, indeed the Mexican gangs might go out of control. It could lead to chaos, maybe several small gangs would seize the chance to stir things up for more territory. However, regaining control over them is not impossible, it would just take more time. I don't mind that, I get paid to do the job, the longer it drags on, the more I earn. But it's different for you; you'll lose everything. Do you want to cooperate with me to gain freedom, or oppose me and lose it all?"

Shorty fell silent.

He felt like this Chinese man was a wall of cotton.

No matter how hard he punched, he couldn't exert any strength.

"Alright... I agree to cooperate, but how do you plan to break me out?"

Shorty finally gave in.

Song Heping said, "It will take some time to get you out, and I can't give you any guarantees. What I can offer is a promise. If you believe me, we cooperate; if not, I'll just walk away and control your territory my own way."

Shorty wiped the sweat from his forehead.

He felt he had no choice left.

"Fine, I agree. I'll have my lawyer contact you to arrange everything. My loyalists on the outside will also assist you. However, Balrot..."

He stopped there.

Song Heping asked, "What about Balrot?"

Shorty said, "As long as he's alive, you won't be able to take over his drug smuggling network."

Song Heping said, "That's simple. I'll arrange it—send him on his way."

Shorty frowned deeply, "He's here too. Do you really have the means to send someone in to kill him?"

Song Heping smiled confidently, "I have my own clever strategies."

He looked at Shorty, "Remember, now you and I are in collusion."