Chapter 20 — End of Line Bus 08

Six months later.

The trial of the case of corruption, intentional violation of economic management regulations, serious violation of environmental protection regulations and murder named "Dai Nam Dong" has ended after twenty-one days of intense trial, attracting unprecedented attention in judicial history. Millions of people across the country were glued to television, computer and phone screens to watch the sentencing live. The quiet atmosphere pervades the cafes and busy markets, people hold their breath waiting for the verdict for those who have disregarded the lives of their fellow human beings.

The result was not unexpected, a severe sentence with a historic deterrent effect. Bui Thanh Long - who once boasted that he was the uncrowned king of the real estate world - received a life sentence without parole, and was forever isolated from society. All of his huge assets, from domestic bank accounts to real estate in the names of relatives, were frozen and confiscated to use public funds to overcome the unpredictable ecological consequences he had caused. Vu - the cold-blooded former Security Director - received the death penalty for directly directing the gangsters and carrying out five brutal murders of witnesses. Dozens of degenerate officials, important links in the protection umbrella system, including former Department Director Tran Huu Dung, had to bow their heads and receive sentences ranging from ten to twenty-five years in prison.

The Dai Nam Dong super project, once heavily advertised as a symbol of prosperity, is now officially suspended forever. Lot B - the skyscraper with the "collapse code" - was forced to be completely dismantled. This process takes place under the strict supervision of the Ministry of Defense's engineering force, in conjunction with experienced international environmental experts. Each piece of concrete was carefully removed, each layer of contaminated soil was scooped up and sealed in specialized containers for disposal in safe areas. Huge chemical dumps and radioactive medical waste drums were exposed to sunlight. The precious underground water pocket of the eastern area of the city was narrowly saved, avoiding a devastating ecological disaster that could last for centuries.

For the families of Nguyen Van Hung, Tran Thi Lan, Le Huu Phat, Vo Van Bon, and Dinh Trong Quy – their loved ones can never return, leaving unfillable voids in their shanty homes. But at least, the darkness surrounding their unjust deaths has been completely dispelled. They were vindicated before public opinion, received adequate compensation from the state, and most importantly, they were recognized in history as silent heroes who risked their lives to try to prevent a devastating disaster for tens of thousands of other families. Their portraits no longer have to hide in the dark but are placed solemnly on the family altar and are lit with incense sticks to comfort them. Tran Van Ba, the security captain who abetted the crime because of his cowardice, became a key witness in court. Thanks to his sincere confession and great contribution in uncovering the ring, he received a more lenient sentence, but the court of conscience will still judge him. until the end of life.

And for Lam Huy, the past six months have been the quietest time in his twenty-year life as a journalist.

Five thirty in the morning. The heavy iron gate of Prison No. 3 under the Ministry of Public Security slowly opened.

Huy stepped outside and took a deep breath of the chilly morning air. He wore a gray shirt with a worn collar and an old backpack on his shoulder. Thanks to exceptionally excellent mitigating circumstances, strong support from public opinion, and direct guarantee from Major General Pham Van Tuong, Huy's sentence for the crime of "Illegal arrest" was announced with the correct period of detention. He was released in court, with a three-year suspended sentence.

Of course, the price to pay is not small. Huy was permanently stripped of his press card. He became a person with a criminal record. Law & Society Newspaper - where he devoted his entire youth - was suspended and dissolved after Dai Nam's media manipulation ring was exposed.

But when standing in front of the prison gate, watching the sky gradually change from dark purple to the pale pink of dawn, Huy did not feel regret. His heart was completely at peace. A serenity that those sitting in luxurious villas or shiny editor-in-chief offices can never have.

From the intersection not far away, a familiar engine rumbled, breaking the stillness of the morning.

Huy squinted his eyes. A large bus, painted blue and white, was slowly approaching. The paint is brand new, the dented front bumper has been replaced, and the broken glass panels have been installed with shiny new tempered glass. On the electronic LED light panel running across the front of the vehicle, bright orange text flashes: "LINE 08: SPECIAL TRIP".

The car stopped right in front of Huy. The up and down doors automatically open with a soft hiss.

Tran Tue sat behind the wheel, wearing a brand new transport company uniform, his hair tied in a neat bun. Her eyes sparkled with a smile when she saw Huy.

"Get in the car, you're an out of date journalist," Tue lifted her chin and threw him a cold can of brewed black coffee. "Stand there waiting for someone else to pick you up?"

Huy caught the coffee can and laughed out loud. The first laugh of relief after half a year. He walked up the familiar steps.

Behind the cockpit, right in the first row of seats, Captain Phong (he had just been promoted before his term) was sitting with his feet on the railing, wearing civilian clothes, peeling a fragrant grilled meat sandwich. Phong's left shoulder moved flexibly, showing that the gunshot wound had completely recovered.

"You left the camp without telling your brothers, are you planning on hiding somewhere?" Phong took a big bite of bread and said while eating. "Fortunately, Tue has an inside source from the prison."

"What internal source? I asked General Tuong directly," Tue shrugged and pushed the gear lever. "He said: 'Go pick him up, he saved the whole city but he doesn't have money to call a taxi'."

The bus rolled away, much smoother than before. It slowly glided on the wide suburban belt road, heading towards the city center.

Huy opened the can of coffee and took a bitter but refreshing sip that spread throughout his exhausted neurons. He looked around the bus It was deserted, rows of empty seats stretched out back, then looked at his two companions. A brave bus driver, a stubborn but upright police officer. A strange alliance was born from blood, smoke and fire, nights of desperate escape and the desire to find the truth.

"What to do now, Huy?" Phong asked, giving Huy the remaining half of the loaf of bread. "Your press card has been confiscated forever. I know you don't care about those titles, but the harsh reality is that no official newsroom will dare to accept a person with a record of kidnapping state officials, even if you are a savior hero."

"I don't know for sure yet," Huy took half a loaf of hot bread and looked out the window, where the rows of mother-of-pearl trees were quickly receding behind. "Perhaps I will open a personal blog, an independent investigative news site. Or write a non-fiction book telling the whole truth about Dai Nam Dong. Truths that the mainstream press is still afraid to reach. Yesterday, through a lawyer, hacker K sent a message that he would sponsor an anonymous server system located abroad for me for free for life, if I still want to continue writing and fighting in my own way."

"Sounds like something," Tue laughed cheerfully, glancing at Huy through the rearview mirror. "Upgraded version of Lam Huy. More independent, free, and dangerous. But for now, you should rest for a few weeks. Your wrongful death compensation money is enough to eat pho for a while. Just get on the 08 bus and walk around the city that you just helped save lives. I'll cover your ticket for life. Then do whatever you want. Whenever you need someone to take you to a fight, just howl."

"What about you, Captain?" Huy turned to Phong, the corners of his lips curled up into a teasing smile. "Become a hero of the industry, probably going to be Head of Department soon."

"Don't provoke me," Phong chuckled, quickly brushing off some bread crumbs that fell on his shirt. "I'm still a lowly criminal soldier. Mr. Tuong wanted to drag me back to the Department on the Land, but I refused. I prefer the noisy, dusty atmosphere of the streets of Saigon. There are still full of gangsters like Vu who need to be caught. As long as there are criminals on the streets, I have work to do."

Huy leaned back on the soft cushioned chair, closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of absolute freedom seeping into every cell. The stress, fear, and torment of the past six months are like a hard shell that is gradually cracking and falling off.

Outside, the red sun had completely risen above the horizon, casting the first bright yellow rays through the large glass windows of the bus, warming the faces that had experienced many dark nights. The darkness has receded behind, leaving cruel plots and unjust deaths in history's past.

Bus 08 continued to move forward, the engine roaring strongly. This time, it did not follow the predetermined stops, did not pick up more passengers full of confidences in the middle of the night, but ran towards the dawn of a pristine new day.

A day when the truth, despite having to go through countless storms and pay the price of blood, was finally returned to its sacred position.

*** RUN OUT OF ***