I Have a Mansion in the Post-apocalyptic World

South America, Xin Embassy in Ecuador.

Because of the time difference, it was still late at night.

Zhang Yaping finished the meeting with the representatives of the Colombian opposition and without having the time to take off his suit, he was pacing back and forth in the reception room while constantly looking up at the clock on the wall.

The moment he learned that someone was planning his murder, and it was being plotted by the infamous CIB, he was furious and shocked.

Although it was not the first he received a death threat, it was the first time he received a death threat from a third country during his diplomatic visit.

Finally tired from pacing around, he walked to the sofa in the reception room and sat down.

Pressing his fingers on his temples, Zhang Yaping closed his eyes with a headache.

While digesting a mess of emotions, he suddenly had a moment of realization as his closed eyes opened, showing a color of confusion.

“Why me?”

It would be impossible for the CIB to not be aware of the political environment of Xin.

Although Xin supported a universal suffrage system, everyone was aware that without the support of Celestial Trade, he would not be able to win this election. With the support of big data, Future Group could accurately push specific news to specific people.

Under such circumstances, even if everyone was satisfied with their vote, the final result of the vote would match the interest of Celestial Trade.

To put it bluntly, he was a puppet of Celestial Trade.

What would be the use of assassinating a puppet? If he died in South America, the vice president would immediately be able to take over in Xin. Other than causing the people of Xin to mourn and be angry, his death would not cause any disruption to the stable political environment in Xin.

Does the CIB want to provoke a war?

Filtering through these thoughts, Zhang Yaping revealed an odd expression.

If all conditions were to be met, the most likely answer obtained was the least likely possibility.

Just then, his assistant knocked on the door of the reception room and walked in quickly with the phone.

“Sir, it’s a call from the Presidential Palace …”

Snatching the phone from his assistant, Zhang Yaping hurriedly asked.

“…What did he say!”

The voice on the other end of the phone hesitated and then responded in a quiet voice.

“He said he will increase the security around you, so you don’t have to worry.”

How can I not worry!

With his face gradually turning pale, Zhang Yaping gulped.

“That is to say, the itinerary for visiting Colombia remains unchanged?”

“…Yes.”

He hung up the phone.

Collapsing into the sofa, Zhang Yaping looked at the phone in his hand with a wry smile and threw it to the assistant, who hurriedly caught it.

“Mr. President?” The assistant looked at him with some worry.

“It’s nothing,” Zhang Yaping loosened the tie around his neck and waved at him, “Go do your thing.”

“Yes.”

The assistant nodded respectfully and turned to leave the room.

The reception room had returned to its previous silence.

Inside the empty room, Zhang Yaping buried his face between his palms, took a deep breath, and sighed with a headache.

“… this is pushing me into the fire pit.”

…

Early the next morning.

At the suburb of Langley, near the Capital, was the CIB building during working hours. It was as busy as ever.

A CIB agent in a suit knocked on the director’s door and then walked in. He went to Henry Wilmot, who was drinking coffee and reading newspapers.

“What’s the matter? My dear Mr. Baird?” Without taking his eyes away from the newspaper, Henry asked in a relaxed tone as he read the latest report on the election on the Washington Post.

Since Kerry’s defeat, he had nothing to do.

Since he already made a mistake for choosing a side once, he did not plan to make another mistake. As long as Hill, who he sabotaged previously, did not get elected, he could stand in the middle and not make any enemies.

As for the historical grudges of the Kennedy family and the CIB.

They all belonged to the older generation…

“Well, tell me what happened to make you look so wry so early in the morning?” Henry put down the newspaper, then noticed the serious expression on his top staff, and his own expression also gradually became more serious.

“… We were informed by our informant in Venezuela that recently a batch of Russian-made weapons came ashore from the port of La Cruz and we lost track of it after it was being transported to Venezuela with trucks,” Baird reported seriously, then placed two reports on the table.

“Russian weapon? Venezuela?” Henry was processing the information.

Does Russia have any core interests in South America? They haven’t even solved the problems near them and now they are still thinking about South America that is tens of thousands of kilometers away from Moscow?

Don’t fool me, this is not the 60s or the 70s.

“Can we trace the origin of this shipment?” Henry asked in a low voice after a moment of pondering.

“We are tracking this shipment’s origin now. The latest information we’ve obtained is that it is from a port located in Greece, but it is very likely that this shipment never landed in Greece at all and were just attached with the official seal of the Greek customs. ”

“It doesn’t matter where it originated, I hope it’s not from Coro Island.”

Cussing in a low voice, Henry glanced at another report on the table and put aside the issue that he could not make sense of.

“Report the latest developments to me immediately. Also, keep an eye on Celestial Trade’s recent international movements… I’ll put this question aside first, and I noticed that there is one more report.”

“Yes,” Baird nodded solemnly. “Another piece of bad news. Just this morning we received intelligence that Agent Braddock, who was sent to Colombia last month, lost contact with us early yesterday morning.”

“Lost contact?” Henry frowned, “Can you confirm his current security situation?”

Baird shook his head.

“In his residence, we found no evidence of fighting. However, when our people arrived, he had disappeared.”

“There is no evidence of fighting? How is this possible?” Henry wondered.

Henry was aware of Agent Braddock. Known as the CIB Hound, he had more than ten years of experience in field intelligence work. With the director being well aware of his name, he was certainly a tough individual.

Without any resistance, an experienced senior CIB agent was taken down.

Even if the kidnapper possessed power of 007 and Tom Cruise, it shouldn’t be that easy right?

“I also think this is quite strange. With Agent Braddock’s strength, it is impossible for him to be kidnapped without resistance.” After a pause, Baird, with a complex and complicated expression, added. “At present, we have contacted the Colombian police through the embassy to search for the whereabouts of Agent Braddock as a missing citizen. But so far, we have not received any useful information from Colombia.”

“It is hopeless to count on the Colombian police. They can’t even solve their own problems.” With a serious frown, Henry thought for a moment, then looked to Baird, “What is the mission Agent Braddock handled before his disappearance? ”

“Tracking down a batch of drugs imported from Florida and a drug cartel active in Colombia and Panama,” Baird replied immediately.

A drug cartel?

Henry was dumbfounded again.

If he was kidnapped while following KGB Agents or Ghost Agents, he could understand.

However, a drug cartel, how is that possible?

What was with today? How come strange things were happening one after another?

Henry subconsciously looked at the calendar on the corner of the table, and his eyebrows twisted together.

Damn it, today is not April Fools’ Day either…