Chapter 5 — Profile 9:17

The cold wind from the Saigon Station lobby blew into Trinh Vu's face, bringing with it the dampness of the unfinished rain. The neon yellow note paper fluttered in his hand like a cruel mockery. The safe number 404 was empty and jagged like a giant mouth that had just swallowed their last ray of hope. Van stood stunned, her eyes dull as she looked into the dim space inside the safe. All the efforts, even a life and death escape at Di An, seemed to be in exchange for an arrogant challenge from Do Trong Thang.

"He... he knew everything in advance?" Van stammered, her voice broken with fear. "How could he know where this key is? How did he know Deo hid the password to the safe here?"

Vu crumpled the note into a ball and threw it into the iron trash can next to it. His usual calmness had been replaced by a seething, hidden rage. "Do Trong Thang is not a fool. He is an old fox who has been wandering around the business and political arena for decades. When Deo used the documents to blackmail him five years ago, he must have installed people to monitor Deo's every move. He knew clearly about the existence of this locker, but he deliberately did not open it right away."

"Why?" Van frowned, the acumen of a person searching for the truth began to function again.

"Because he likes to play with the mouse," Vu quickly walked towards the door, Van hurriedly followed. "He wants Deo to live in the illusion that he holds his weakness. And more importantly, he uses this very cabinet as a bait. Once the cabinet is opened, he will immediately know where his real enemy is and how he acts. Our coming here tonight is the signal shot to him: The hunt has begun."

The two quickly got into the car. The Ford Everest slowly rushed through the streets drenched in yellow light, returning to the safe house in District 8. Along the way, no one said a word to anyone. The quiet scene of Saigon late at night adds to the gloom and deadlock of their current situation.

When the steel door of the apartment opened, Bui Van Deo, who was sitting curled up in the corner of the sofa like a wounded animal, suddenly raised his head. Seeing Vu return with empty hands and a murderous face, the former construction captain's worst premonition immediately became reality.

"Empty... right?" Deo asked, his voice whispering, his pale lips trembling. "He took the notebook... I knew it... I knew it! We're dead! Thang won't let any of us survive the night!"

"Shut up!" Vu huffed, throwing the keys hard on the glass table, causing it to make a dry "clack" sound. "Do you think there's any use crying now? Our enemy is one step ahead, but that doesn't mean we've lost."

Vu took off his wet jacket, draped it over the back of the chair, and rolled up his shirt sleeves. He began to pace back and forth in the cramped living room, a common habit when he was concentrating on analyzing a difficult problem. His eyebrows frowned tightly, his fingers continuously tapping his temple.

"Try to think according to Do Trong Thang's logic," Vu muttered, as if talking to himself yourself. "He got the code book. He got copies of the bank documents. He emptied out locker 404 to spite us. He believed we had completely lost all advantages."

Vu suddenly stopped, turned sharply towards Le Nhu Van, his eyes shining with a strong ray of hope. "Miss Van! The tape recorder! The cassette tape is buried under the altar!"

Van blinked, seemingly not immediately understanding Vu's intentions. "What about the tape? It just records the argument..."

"Yes! It only records the argument, but it is the only evidence that Do Trong Thang did not know of its existence!" Vu stepped forward, placed his hands on Van's shoulders, his voice filled with excitement. "Since ten years ago, Thang always believed that he controlled the entire game. He did not know that engineer Sang secretly recorded the conversation that night. That tape is our real trump card!"

Deo looked at the two bewilderedly. "A recording tape? What tape?"

Vu ignored Deo's question and continued to draw up a plan. "Although the secretly recorded tape does not have absolute value in court without forensic examination, its power does not lie in the court of law, but in the power of public opinion. If the recording of Do Trong Thang threatening engineer Sang and threatening the life of his nineteen-year-old daughter is leaked out, it will create a media earthquake. The shares of Dinh Phat Group and Thang's bank will evaporate thousands of billions of dong overnight. He will have to face a media storm. faced with a wave of public opinion, and the highest level investigation agency was forced to intervene. That's what Do Trong Thang is truly afraid of!

Van nodded continuously, her hands clasped tightly. The truth that has been buried for ten years finally has a chance to be exposed to sunlight. "So what should we do to release that tape? Send it to the TV station? Or post it on social networks?"

"If posted anonymously on social networks, Thang will immediately use money to delete it and label it as fake news created by AI. We need an official media channel, someone brave and reputable enough to vouch for the origin of this tape," Vu said, pulling his smartphone out of his pocket. "And I know exactly who we need to find."

The clock struck two in the morning. At an all-night restaurant specializing in selling noodles on Nguyen Trai Street, where the tube lights flickered continuously and the strong smell of broth wafted up, a man in his forties was slurping down a bowl of instant egg noodles. His hair was messy, his beard was scraggly and unshaven, and he was wearing a faded windbreaker. That is Hoang Minh - Head of the Investigative Reporting Department of a major newspaper in the South, and a close friend of Trinh Vu since the time they were both enthusiastic law students.

Vu and Van entered the restaurant and chose a table hidden in a dark corner. Minh looked up, pushed the bowl of noodles aside, and reached for a napkin to wipe his mouth.

"You called me out here at two in the morning, in the middle of a stormy night like this," Minh grumbled, his voice sleepy. "You better have an exclusive story worth a Pulitzer Prize, or I'll strangle you, Trinh Vu."

Vu didn't say a word and quietly put up the old Sony tape recorder table, plugged in the headset and pushed it towards Minh. "Listen to this tape, from start to finish. Don't miss a word."

Minh looked at Vu suspiciously, then looked at the girl accompanying him with a tired but determined expression. He reluctantly put on the headphones and pressed the Play button.

During the next three minutes, the expression on Hoang Minh's face changed continuously, from sleepiness, to surprise, shock, and finally extreme anger. His hand holding the cigarette shook, spilling cigarette butts onto the table. When the tape ended with the sound of the door closing, Minh took off his headphones and threw them hard on the table.

"Damn it!" Minh hissed through his teeth. "That powerful voice... is unmistakable. It is Do Trong Thang, Chairman of Dinh Phat. Who is the person arguing with him...?"

"Engineer Le Van Sang," Van spoke, his voice clear. "My father. The man who was convicted by the court of being the cause of the Tan Cang Bridge scaffolding collapse ten years ago."

Minh gaped at Van, then turned his gaze to Vu. Like a wolf smelling blood, the professional instinct of a skilled investigative journalist immediately arose in him. "Oh my god... A perfectly disguised case of framing, witness intimidation, and a labor massacre. If this tape is published, it will wipe out the entire board of directors of Dinh Phat."

"That's why I need you to write an exclusive report," Vu said, his eyes steady. "Are you brave enough to confront Do Trong Thang? He can buy out your editorial office, or he can make you disappear forever from this city."

Minh smirked disdainfully, lit a cigarette and took a deep breath. "I've been waiting for a case like this for fifteen years as a journalist, Vu. But the problem is, an old audio tape is not enough for my editor to review the article. There needs to be evidence to compare with. At least, we need a testimony from a living witness to confirm the authenticity of this threat."

"We have living witnesses," Vu replied, the corners of his lips curling up slightly. "Bui Van Deo, former Construction Team Leader. He is at my safe house. It was he who received two billion VND from Thang to remove the scaffolding bolts. Tomorrow morning, I will take you to Deo to collect testimony."

"Great!" Minh slammed his hand on the table, looking extremely excited. "Tomorrow morning at eight o'clock. I'll bring my most trusted camera and crew."

Vu nodded and reached out to retrieve the tape recorder. Everything is progressing according to plan. This tape will be the opening shot, ripping off Do Trong Thang's dark velvet curtain.

But at that moment, Vu's eyes accidentally glanced at the screen of the 21-inch TV hanging on the wall of the noodle shop, which was broadcasting the late night news from the local TV station. The blood-red text running across the bottom of the screen caught his eye, causing Vu's entire body to stiffen.

"News flash: A terrible fire just broke out at 1:30 this morning at a large-scale shrimp farm in Di An, Binh Duong. The fire broke out fiercely from the central wooden house area, believed to be caused by an electrical short circuit. The entire farm was completely burned down. Luckily, there was no loss of life because the farm owner was away."

Vu and Van looked at each other, a stream of cold air running down their spines both backs. Fire time: 1:30 am. Just twenty minutes after they rescued Bui Van Deo and escaped from the assassins.

"He's erasing his tracks," Vu mumbled, his face turning pale. "Do Trong Thang is not only going after Deo. He is burning everything related to Deo to make sure no one can find any clues about that illegal fortune."

Do Trong Thang proved to them his boundless brutality. The game now is not just legal or media, but a race with death. Whoever strikes first will survive. And Vu knows that tonight will be the longest sleepless night in his lawyer's life.