Chapter 19 — The Journey of the Missing Bronze Drum

The youngest forklift driver of the three, whose full name was listed in the personnel file as a young man in his early twenties, was so shaken that he had to be offered water twice before he could answer the question coherently. He was brought into a small meeting room at the chemical inspection station, separate from Toan Hai Phat's main office area, at Hai's request to avoid psychological pressure from his superiors.

“I was just following orders,” he said, his voice slurring. "The shift manager called me up at nearly twelve o'clock at night, saying there was an urgent need to move a special package to a small truck, saying it was to make an early delivery to VIP customers. I didn't ask anything more, because it wasn't the first time there were such urgent shipments at late hours."

"What does that package look like?" Diem asked, trying to keep her voice gentle so as not to make him panic more.

"A round block, wrapped in many layers of thick fabric and foam, quite heavy, requiring two people to carry even though the size is not too large. I just helped put it on the truck, I don't know what's inside."

"Where is that truck going?"

The young man hesitated for a moment, glancing through the glass door of the meeting room as if afraid someone was eavesdropping. "I didn't follow, but I heard the shift manager tell the truck driver an address, an old cold storage in an industrial park about fifteen kilometers from the port, where the company used to store frozen seafood before switching to an integrated logistics model. I just happened to hear it because I was standing nearby while they were talking."

Hai took a quick note, then looked up. "Do you remember the name or license plate number of the truck?"

"I don't remember the exact license plate number, but I remember it was a small white truck, with a blurred company logo on the door, the type of vehicle the company still uses for inner-city deliveries." He paused, his voice trembling even more. "What will happen to me if I confess this? I really don't know what I'm helping with, I'm just an ordinary stevedoring worker."

Diem looked at him, a familiar feeling rising - the image of small links, accidentally caught up in a machine many times larger than their understanding, no different from the image Mr. Trac once described of poor people being lured into selling information on the scene. "Your cooperation and truthful reporting will be considered a mitigating circumstance, if there is any legal liability related to you, which I think is unlikely if you really just did the assigned job without knowing the true nature behind it."

The young man nodded, breathing a sigh of relief, although his eyes were still filled with worry. Before he left the room, Diem asked one more question, more out of personal curiosity than professional. "How long have you worked here?"

"Almost two years, since graduating from vocational school," he replied. "The salary here is better than many other places, the company also treats workers kindly, has full insurance, and plenty of holiday bonuses. I never thought I was working for a place that could be involved in antiquities smuggling, to tell you the truth."

That sentence made Diem suddenly realize another aspect of the whole case: Toan Hai Phat, even though it was a cover for an illegal ring, still had to operate like a real business, had to pay full salaries, had to treat well hundreds of employees who had no idea about the true nature behind their daily work - another class of indirect victims that she had never thought of until now.

After he left the room, Hai turned to Diem, opened the map of the area on his laptop, and marked the location of the industrial park mentioned. "Old cold storage, fifteen kilometers from the port. This may be a temporary transit place before they find another export route, after the original plan to use the TXHU container was revealed."

"We need to verify before we act," Diem said, although her voice was filled with hope again. "But this is the most concrete clue we have so far in the case."

Hai immediately contacted a discreet reconnaissance team, requesting remote observation of the cold storage area in the industrial park, absolutely not approaching close, not creating any movement that could alarm. While waiting for the first report, Diem called Mr. Dang, asking for more data about the history of use of that industrial land, to see whether Toan Hai Phat had registered legal use rights or not.

"Yes," Mr. Dang confirmed over the phone after a few minutes of searching. "That cold storage area is in the name of a subsidiary of Toan Hai Phat, registered six years ago, the business purpose is listed as 'general warehousing services'. On paper, it is completely legal, there is nothing suspicious just looking at the business registration documents."

"Another layer of cover," Diem said, tapping her fingers on the table. "The deeper we dig, the more we see how many layers of defense this line has in place to never be completely exposed past a single point."

While waiting for the reconnaissance team to silently verify the cold storage location, Hai's phone rang, a call from the Department headquarters. He answered the phone, his face gradually changing to a mixture of surprise and relief.

"It's about the leak of information to the press," he said after hanging up, turning to Diem. "The Internal Affairs Department has just identified the source. It's not anyone in our investigation team, nor is it related to Long's network."

"So who is it?"

"A young specialist in the Department's communications department, who attended the meeting the previous day as a secretary taking minutes. She claimed that she accidentally revealed some details during a private conversation with an old friend, now working as a freelance reporter, not knowing that her friend would use that information to create an article with an anonymous source. The motive was not money or malice, just the lack of caution of a young person unfamiliar with the sensitivity of investigative work."

Diem sighed, a mixture of relief and fatigue. "At least it wasn't an intentionally planted internal link. But the lesson is still there — we need to be more careful with all information, even in the most seemingly harmless conversations."

"Agreed," Hai said, closing the phone. "But right now, we have more important things to focus on." He pointed to the marker on the map. "This old cold storage. If the bronze drum is really there, we need a very discreet approach plan, because this time, we can't lose sight of it again."

Nearly an hour later, the reconnaissance team sent back the first report via encrypted message: the cold storage area has two entrances and exits, a main gate with a twenty-four-hour guard, and a side gate at the back leading to a small dirt road with few visitors, almost abandoned. There were lights inside the warehouse even though it was past midnight, and a white pickup truck, matching the young driver's description, was parked right next to the side gate.

"The truck is still there," Diem said, a feeling of relief spreading throughout her body. "Meaning that the goods may not have been shipped yet, or they are waiting for another shipment to pick them up."

"We need to know exactly what they're waiting for," Hai said, "before deciding when to raid. If we raid too early, we may only capture a few clueless stevedores, while Long and the real leaders remain out of reach. If we raid too late, the cargo may have left before we can act."

Diem looked at the map, then looked at the clock on the wall — it was past four in the afternoon, the seven-day deadline set by her superiors had less than forty-eight hours left, while Elena's Singapore auction still had about ten days left.

"We don't have much time to wait," she said, her voice determined. "I think it's time to plan specific actions, tonight if possible. We need to mobilize enough forces, enough backup plans, for a campaign that only has one chance to succeed."

Hai nodded, stood up, his eyes turned into the highly concentrated state of a person preparing to enter the most decisive phase of the entire project. "Then let's start now. I will call an emergency meeting with all relevant forces within the next hour."

Diem nodded, packed the documents into her bag, but before walking out of the room, she stopped for a moment, looking at the map of the industrial park still displayed on the laptop screen, the small red marker in the middle of a dense gray area of anonymous warehouses. Twelve years of waiting, two weeks of endless chasing, all may be about to converge on that single point, in a single coming night, where every hypothesis will finally be confronted directly with the truth, leaving no room for further speculation or waiting.