Director Eberstein's formulaic attitude pierced through the last bit of fantasy in his heart; the other party didn't even arrange any further meeting schedule,
they were just "protecting" them in this luxurious hotel prison.
He took a deep breath, picked up the satellite phone, and dialed Austin's dedicated line.
The call was almost immediately answered, and Paul's voice was filled with urgency and anticipation:
"Lawrence? How is it? Did you see Victor or Casare? What did they say?"
"No, big brother."
Lawrence's voice was full of fatigue and bitterness, "I didn't see a single one of them; the one who came to the airport was Eberstein, that police chief, only him. There wasn't even a shadow of anyone from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs."
There was silence on the other end, with only Paul's heavy breathing audible. After a while.
"The meaning is already very clear, big brother."
