Chapter 4577: Day of White (43)

"There should be surveillance here," Schiller stood up, looked around, and then said: "But it shouldn't be in the museum's surveillance room. Haivin has long regarded this place as his private vault, and he won't allow outsiders to peek here."

"The surveillance system here is connected to one of his safe houses, the one he values most. Perhaps he is staring at us there now, with that mural."

"You mean, he can see how Hsinag was taken away?" Deathstroke thought and said, "He must send someone to chase. That arms dealer from France is stupid and easy to control, and is one of the few chips currently. Should we look for traces around?"

"We can't continue this meaningless chase," Schiller said, "If we keep checking along the traces, we will still be led by the nose. The way to break the situation is never in it."

"Looks like you're going to use some agent means," Deathstroke raised his eyebrows and said, "Am I lucky enough to witness your brilliance?"

"It's really not brilliant," Schiller said, "Everything about an agent is not brilliant. Let's go to Suez and find a boat."

They soon got into the car again, but this journey was exceptionally silent. Obviously, this agent is not talkative. Deathstroke took the opportunity to take a nap—although he is a cyborg, he still needs rest.

Very unfortunately, the Suez Canal has stopped. An armed force that dares to control Cairo Airport will certainly not give up on attacking this most important traffic pass. In the past ten hours, this place has experienced three rounds of fighting, and almost all cargo ships dare not go.

Deathstroke put down the telescope and said: "Over there, that boat over there should be theirs. But are you sure you want to board the boat? That might be very dangerous. Even if we can kill everyone on that boat, it's hard to be unscathed under the bombing of multiple missiles."

"We are going to negotiate, not to kill."

"If you can stop putting bullets in that tank barrel of yours, I might believe it a little." Deathstroke glanced at Schiller, who was loading his revolver.

"Armed deterrence is necessary. At the same time, we also need some little tricks to attract their attention."

"For example?"

"Bang!!!!!!!!!!"

A few minutes later, the two were brought onto the boat. A bearded man holding a gun frowned when he saw Deathstroke's uniform, obviously recognizing him. But he soon fell his gaze on Schiller—did this guy just launch a missile with something?

"Hello," Schiller said, "Nice to meet you."

"It's you two who made the ghost, right?"

"Just want to attract your attention."

"I'm talking about Hurghada," the bearded man narrowed his eyes and said, "You killed their leader, we were going to negotiate."

"You can't be a pro-peace faction, otherwise you wouldn't be in Suez," Schiller turned and walked to the chair and said, "Let's sit down and talk."

The other party didn't refute. He sat opposite the table, and then let others stand behind them with guns.

"I need you to do something for me, and you will naturally get benefits from it."

"Watch your attitude, American, we are not your subordinates."

"You still don't understand what I said," Schiller knocked on the table with handcuffs and said, "What I said is not the benefits your organization will get, but yourself."

The bearded man stared at him, his eyes very cold. Schiller continued: "Museum curator Haivin is trapped in his safe house and can't come out for a short time. And in the storage room under the museum, there are cultural relics he has stolen and replaced for so many years. Several of them can be called Egyptian national treasures, don't you want them?"

The bearded man narrowed his eyes: "Are you trying to play me?"

"I don't want you to control the Egyptian Museum, I know that won't work. After all, the opposite side has fallen into madness, and controlling the airport is a dead end. You just need to wait. I want you to take the cultural relics, and I get Haivin."

"Will he come out?"

"He definitely will. Those things are at least most of his family wealth, he won't sit by and watch you take them."

"The Egyptian authorities won't allow it either," the bearded man said, "Breaking into the museum is no different from breaking into the airport, they will treat us as terrorists all the same. What's more, that guy is a local snake and can find quite a few people to deal with us."

"I don't want you to kill all the way," Schiller said, "I will take you in, take things and leave, they won't have time to react. Of course, we need people to attract attention, which will have some sacrifices. But you should also have quite a few people who should be sacrificed here, right?"

Deathstroke looked at Schiller, seemingly unable to understand why he was so sure.

"You are right about this," the bearded man stood up and said, "I have to thank you for solving a big trouble for me. If I really let that gang negotiate successfully in Hurghada, we would be fooled again, because of the weakness of some people, we would be driven out of here. Those who are too good at communication should go to talk to Death."

Deathstroke now understands. This bearded man should be an active pro-war faction, just like Schiller said, if it weren't for this, he wouldn't be in Suez. You know, if the Red Sea is a dance of demons, then Suez is simply a hell soup pot. Any event that happens in this area will affect here for the first time. The gold content of the place where soldiers must fight lies in this, only the most determined people can fight to the end here.

The negotiation was destroyed, which is a good thing for the pro-war faction. However, as long as those wavering people didn't die for a day, the bearded man couldn't put his heart down for a day. He couldn't take the initiative to execute them, but he could find a way to let them die.

And if their death could be exchanged for many precious cultural relics, it is quite worth it. Because the bearded man can use these things to exchange for more weapons and supporters. This is what Schiller said, not for the whole organization, but for yourself—not for the bearded man personally, but for their faction that is determined to fight.

In the entire Arab world, an unchanging iron law circulates, that is, heretics are more hateful than infidels. Countless disputes arise from this, and it also gives too many people opportunities to take advantage of, which is the key to their being used. Schiller also grasped this point.

Although the bearded man kept saying that he hated those who were too good at communication, the process of communicating with him was quite smooth, and the plan was quickly finalized.

"You wait here," the bearded man said, "Soon, I will arrange for my companions to meet with you. One of you will take them back to Cairo, and the other will go with us later."

Schiller nodded, looked at Deathstroke and said: "Which one do you do?"

"The one on the ground," Deathstroke said, "Compared to secret infiltration, I am more suitable for making a big noise. I will take them first."

"Deathstroke," the bearded man called out his code name, "I've heard of you for a long time."

Deathstroke took out his business card and handed it to him, then said: "If one day you really can't stand your brothers, call me, I will let Allah protect them."

The bearded man grinned, put away the business card, and said nothing more. The two waited for a while on the boat, and soon, another group of people walked up.

They seemed to have quite a bit of hostility towards Deathstroke and Schiller, probably because Deathstroke destroyed the negotiation and completely ruined their plan. However, the bearded man successfully persuaded them, making them willing to sit down and talk.

And this time, in Schiller's mouth, their plan changed again. It's not about repairing the plank road openly and crossing the Chencang secretly, forcing the Egyptian authorities to sit down and talk through the means of plundering cultural relics—this is of course what those who want to negotiate want.

Deathstroke watched Schiller talk eloquently: first set a trap to arouse the other party's curiosity; throw out real bait to force them to show greed; stimulate their emotions to induce their anger; and then show enough strength and control to force them to make concessions.

This group of people who are very good at communication are obviously not as good at communication as Schiller. He is not the kind of agent who only knows how to shoot. Deathstroke realized this point more deeply. Things outside the muzzle are his specialty. In this way, Wonder Woman gave him a good gun—not allowing him to shoot at will, making him have to think of other ways.

After several rounds of confrontation, the negotiation was finally completed. Deathstroke stood up, tidied up his equipment, and then said: "Let's go, I guarantee that when you arrive, Cairo will already be in a mess."

Schiller watched him leave, not doubting what he said. Deathstroke is undoubtedly very good at creating chaos. However, this is not all he wants.

"There are your people in there, right?" Schiller turned back to look at the bearded man.

"That's right, what's wrong?"

"Keep an eye on that mercenary and see who contacted him."

"You don't trust him?"

"Rest assured, this has nothing to do with our plan, just my personal suggestion, just treat it as a favor."

"I will help you ask," the bearded man said, "In front of him, I can't say that. But actually, I want your business card more."

"Sorry, I don't take private commissions."

Then they also set off from Suez. But unlike Deathstroke's fanfare, they simplified their manpower as much as possible, only took one car, bypassed all checkpoints that could be bypassed, and went straight to the destination at the fastest speed. Then, under Schiller's leadership, entered the basement of the museum.

On the way, they found that Deathstroke perfectly fulfilled his promise. The center of Cairo was in a mess, and the vicinity of the Egyptian Museum was even more chaotic. It is not certain whether it was attacked or what, in short, there are many police cars surrounding here. It seems more difficult to get in, but in fact, it is not only them who are blocked, but also Haivin's people.

This is what Schiller wants. If Haivin is still hiding in his safe house and refuses to show up, the people he sent probably won't be able to break through such a defense line. Unless he comes out in person, others will let him in for the sake of him being the curator of the Egyptian Museum. This is the only way to save his cultural relic treasures, now it depends on whether he wants money or life.

Schiller led the bearded man and his party to sneak into the museum silently, and came to the basement at the fastest speed. In Schiller's view, there is nothing important here; but in the eyes of the bearded man and them, here are all treasures.

Those Egyptian sculptures, murals, masks, each is worth a fortune. Although the lack of official documents might lead to price reduction, the quantity also makes up for this point well. And most of these things are relatively small, and they can be taken away by putting them in bags, and they happen to have brought quite a few pockets.

"Go take more, my friend," Schiller said, "If your pockets are full, come find me, I will tell you which one is more valuable."

"You still understand this? American?" The bearded man picked up a mask next to him, which looked like a pharaoh's, he looked at it carefully, trying to stuff it into his pocket, "I thought you guys had no culture."

"Actually, I don't understand either. It's just that when your hand touches the most valuable one, there should be a scream from..."

"Let go of that thing! You bunch of damn robbers!! Bastards!!!!"

"Oh, Haivin, you're here." Schiller turned around and showed an icy smile at the figure at the door.