Chapter 18 — End of Line Bus 08

Five o'clock in the afternoon. Saigon traffic begins to thicken during rush hours.

Tran Huu Dung, Director of the city's Department of Natural Resources and Environment, walked out of the side door of a tree-shaded VIP restaurant on Dien Bien Phu Street. He just finished a closed meeting to discuss how to "orient public opinion" after this morning's shocking data leak. The Director's fat face was shiny with sweat even though it was not hot. He waved to the blue Lexus that was parked not far away.

Before the Lexus could crawl forward, a small truck carrying ice, with an old exterior, suddenly backed up at breakneck speed, cutting across the Department Director's face.

The back door of the trunk opened. There is no ice inside. There was only one man wearing a dark coat and a hat that covered his face. With a lightning-fast movement, the man wrapped his arms around Mr. Dung's neck, clamped tightly, and at the same time used a rag soaked in anesthetic to press directly against the official's nose and mouth.

Tran Huu Dung only had time to make a gurgling sound before struggling weakly and then passed out. The man dragged that fat body into the back of the truck. The door slammed shut.

From the driver's seat, Tue changed gears and stepped on the accelerator. The ice truck sped away, merging into the crowded traffic before the Lexus driver could realize that his boss had just evaporated in broad daylight.

Half an hour later.

The truck stopped at the foot of a giant abandoned concrete block right in front of District 1. That was "Dai Nam Plaza" - a super commercial center project of Bui Thanh Long whose construction was suspended five years ago due to litigation, now just a giant skeleton, twenty stories high, without walls, reaching rusty steel pillars into the afternoon sky.

Huy and Tue grabbed Mr. Dung's armpits and pulled him to the top floor through a dark staircase full of trash and needles.

Up on the windy rooftop, Huy tied Mr. Dung to a lightning rod with a nylon rope, then lightly slapped him in the face to wake him up.

The Department Director opened his eyes and looked around lazily. When he realized he was floating eighty meters above an abandoned building, and the person standing in front of him was the most wanted man in the country, he was so scared that he peed all over his pants.

"What... what do you want? Money? I'll pay whatever you want!" Mr. Dung stammered, his lips trembling.

"I don't need your dirty money," Huy replied coldly. He took the phone he borrowed from K and opened the livestream application that had an anti-blocking algorithm set up by K.

Within just five minutes, thanks to technical support from K pushing the link across the forums, tens of thousands of internet users flocked to watch the live stream.

Huy pointed the camera at Tran Huu Dung's pale face, then turned the lens toward the backpack filled with original contracts and design drawings.

"I am Lam Huy. The person who distributed the Dai Nam Dong data package this morning," Huy's voice rang out loudly, spreading throughout cyberspace. "The local police call it fake data. So here, I'm keeping the original contract with the fresh signatures of Bui Thanh Long and the Department Director sitting here. The contract allows radioactive waste to be buried in the city's underground water."

The chat box on the livestream screen jumped up frantically with thousands of comments every second.

Huy looked straight into the lens. "I know you're watching. I don't trust any local investigation agencies right now. My only request: Major General Pham Van Tuong, Director of the Police Department investigating economic corruption crimes of the Ministry of Public Security, must personally come to the rooftop of this building to receive evidence and receive witnesses. There are no local police. If any other force intervenes, or if General Pham is not present in an hour, I will throw away this entire original file... and you too. The Director of this Department is on the street."

Huy turned off the live stream. The message has been sent. The alarm shot was fired.

The response came faster than he thought. Less than fifteen minutes later, sirens rang out from every street toward the city center. Dozens of special vehicles of the local Mobile Police force blared loudly, blocking all roads around Dai Nam Plaza.

Looking from above, Huy could see hundreds of heavily armed police deploying troops, setting up barricades, and pointing sniper rifles from the rooftops of neighboring high-rise buildings toward the rooftop.

"It seems like the local police don't intend to give the stage to the Ministry," Tue squinted through the crack of a concrete block, holding an iron bar in hand.

Huy looked at his watch. The internal radio they stole from a traffic policeman chirped with dire orders: *"Armed subjects, holding important hostages. Extremely dangerous target. Order from the Department of Directors: Allow the sniper team to kill on the spot if there is a chance. The assault team prepares to approach the construction site elevator."*

The local corrupt people decided to play their cards up. They would rather accuse Huy of terrorism and kill him and Mr. Dung to destroy the public, than let the original file fall into the hands of the Director of the Ministry of Public Security.

"They're coming up here," Huy said, pulling Tue to hide deep behind the elevator core wall. "We have to hold out until General Pham's men arrive."

The sound of pounding footsteps echoed from the stairs. A special forces team dressed in all black, masked, holding MP5 submachine guns slowly approached the rooftop.

But something's not right. Huy, with the observational eyes of a journalist who had followed the police in many cases, immediately recognized the anomaly. This special task force moves too haphazardly, without a standard tactical formation. The shoes they wore were steel-toed safety work boots, not combat boots of the CSC.

"That's not the police!" Huy shouted. "Those are Vu's assassins in disguise!"

Old Long intervened, using the chaos of the real police force below as a cover to bring in Vu's group of assassins to solve everything once and for all.

The fake police immediately opened fire. A series of bullets pierced the concrete wall where Huy and Tue were hiding. Tran Huu Dung screamed miserably, cowering next to the lightning rod.

Huy doesn't have a gun. All he had was a few broken bricks and despair. The assassins slowly closed the siege. Vu, also in a fake special forces uniform, slowly took off his mask and grinned cruelly.

"The game is over, journalist," Vu pointed the pistol straight at Huy's head, his finger slowly squeezing the trigger. “You did a great job stirring up this shit, but in the end it's the strong one the best is the winner. Let's publish it in the newspaper under the golden stream."

Right at the fateful moment when Vu's finger was about to pull the trigger all the way, a deafening roar tore through the sky from behind the clouds.

Not one, but two giant Mi-171 helicopters painted moss green with the National Emblem and the words "SPECIAL POLICE OF THE MINISTRY OF SECURITY" in bright gold letters loomed from above. The giant wind from the fan blades created a hurricane that crashed onto the rooftop, blowing up dust, trash, and shaking the assassins who were standing precariously. One plane circled to provide air support, while the other slowly lowered altitude to just above the rooftop of the unfinished building.

From both sides of the helicopter door, heavy machine guns pointed straight down, locking on all moving targets below. Dozens of special ropes were thrown down. Figures dressed in camouflage uniforms, bulletproof armor, and armed with modern weapons slid down the concrete floor with lightning speed and skill. This is the real elite force, completely different from the clumsy disguised assassins. Fifteen special forces soldiers formed an arc combat formation as soon as their feet touched the ground, gun barrels equipped with tactical flashlights scanning the floor.

"Put down your weapons! Raise your hands above your head! Lie face down on the ground! You have been surrounded by the Special Forces of the Ministry of Public Security! All acts of resistance will be destroyed on the spot!" The sound of loudspeakers from the helicopter resounded like thunder, overwhelming the sound of the engine.

Vu's assassins were completely paralyzed by the absolute overwhelming firepower, numbers and momentum. A few men tried to run towards the stairs but were immediately stopped by warning shots that plowed through the floor beneath their feet. Vu gritted his teeth, intending to raise his gun to shoot back in a last desperate effort, but immediately, five red laser beams from snipers on the helicopter and special forces on the ground locked firmly between his chest and forehead. Knowing he had no way out, he let the gun fall to the cement floor with a click, then slowly raised his hands above his head and knelt down.

From the hanging helicopter, a man in his sixties, with a muscular physique, short gray hair, wearing a General's uniform with bright red medals on his left chest, walked down a mobile rope ladder. His eyes were sharp as a knife, majestic and cold, scanning around the chaotic scene and stopping at Lam Huy's position, panting next to the wall.

That is Major General Pham Van Tuong. The final intervention, deciding everything, has come.