The phone rang.
It was Hendrick.
"The goods have arrived. Albanian coast. You take people to pick them up."
"Scorpion" said nothing.
"The boss says this is the last run. After this, you stay in Europe, no need to come back."
"Scorpion" was silent for a few seconds.
"What about the money?"
"Someone on the other side will give it to you. Three million euros. Enough for you to live in Europe for a lifetime."
The call ended.
February 6, 1998, Albanian coast.
The night was very dark, the wind very strong.
"Scorpion" stood on a speedboat, watching the cargo ship in the distance slowly approach.
The cargo ship had no lights, only the outline of the ship barely visible in the darkness. It docked, stabilized, and then began unloading the cargo from the hold.
Plastic barrels. One by one, lowered with nets, loaded onto waiting trucks on the shore.
"Scorpion" counted.
Thirty barrels. Fifty barrels. Eighty barrels.
One hundred barrels.
