In the VIP room of the Pine Restaurant, Beverly Hills Hotel, Los Angeles, Kira walked up and shook hands with Shiller. Behind her was another man, an African American who was wearing a uniform. He was burly, almost on par with Arthur.
"Professor Shiller, this is Agent Lila from the U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration. Upon hearing of the lead you provided, we hurriedly made our way to Los Angeles," said Kira.
"Please, sit." Shiller pointed to the chairs across from him then walked to the door and said to a waiter, "You can serve the dishes now, thank you."
Agent Lila from the DEA had a stern look on his face. As the food was being served, he said to Shiller, "The re-emergence of the Guadalajara Organization at sea is not good news for us."
"About five years ago, one of our agents was killed in a horrific manner. The incident shocked the world. Congress and the President were enraged. Now, the Mexican drug trade is thriving again and they even dare attempt to invade the West Coast. We must make them pay."
What Lila was referring to was a infamous murder case in the world's drug enforcement history. The perpetrator of the calamity was none other than Galado, the leader of the Guadalajara Organization.
In November 1984, an anti-drug operation initiated by the Mexican Government was being carried out in Mexico with gusto. Meanwhile, an agent codenamed Kiki was infiltrating the Guadalajara Organization's cultivation business.
This agent, whose real name was Camarera Slacha, obtained information about the plantation and led the Mexican government to destroy a plantation that covered about 15,000 acres.
Galado, the owner of the plantation, was furious. They captured and tortured this agent for at least 30 hours. By the time his body was found, it was virtually unrecognizable.
The Washington government was enraged. Under the pressure from the U.S. Congress and the President, the Mexican government initiated the first drug war and began severely cracking down on the Guadalajara Organization.
By 1989, the organization was a shadow of its former self. Their distribution networks suffered heavily and Galado disappeared without a trace.
"This could be a signal." The African American agent, Lila, tapped the table with his finger and said, "The Mexican government has eased its crackdown on the Guadalajara Organization. They could be testing us, thinking we will relax our surveillance over the sea routes. They want to make a comeback."
"Professor Shiller, you mentioned in the phone call that the Guadalajara Organization massacred the indigenous people of a small island in the Gulf of Mexico. Do you know where that island is? We want to send people to check it out," Kira said, eating as she spoke.
Shiller observed Kira's actions and noticed she was eating hastily, probably because she was famished. Considering it was morning and they had likely travelled overnight from the East Coast, skipping dinner and breakfast might have been normal.
Just the night before, Shiller had called Kira, the head official from the Central Intelligence Agency in Metropolis, about his situation. To his surprise, she took the matter very seriously and travelled overnight to meet him.
The cooperation of the Central Intelligence Agency and the U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration seemed almost too good to be true. The CIA would trigger the event and the DEA would extinguish it. This situation was common on the vast South American continent. The two bodies didn't get along, or rather, the CIA didn't get along with any U.S. institution.
"By the way, Professor Shiller, you mentioned in the phone call that there was more crucial intel. What was that about?" asked Kira, looking up at Shiller.
Shiller took a glance at the doorway, and Agent Lila, who was sitting on the outside, strode over to close the door. Shiller then took a file out of his briefcase and handed it to Kira. As she leafed through the pages, her face took on a grave expression.
When Kira finished reading, she passed the file to Lila. As he read, his expression grew darker and darker. After a moment, he slammed a fist on the table and said, "These goddamn vampires! They deserve to go to hell!"
Kira gently nudged Lila's arm. Realizing his outburst, Lila gathered himself and said in a softer tone, "The connection between Quinn Group and these drug traffickers isn't surprising. Most West Coast corporations have shady transactions with them..."
"Although these documents have some leads, they cannot be considered conclusive evidence. We need more concrete evidence to take down the Quinn Group."
"Do you really want to do that?" asked Shiller. "Even the U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration might not be able to combat them on this issue. They have people in the State Council and the Congress..."
At once, Lila's anger flared. "They nurture their own problems! In order to stir up the situation in South America, some people in the Congress have used the substantial profits of drug trafficking as a lure, to foster their own interests in South American countries. Now it has come back to bite them. They are entirely culpable!"
Shiller looked at Lila. Although the African American was burly in stature, he spoke in a refined and articulate manner. His style of speaking was similar to many professors at Gotham University, unlike most African Americans of this era.
"Don't take it to heart, Professor Shiller. Lila has strong sense of public duty. He has been in this line of work for many years and has witnessed too many cruel deeds by drug traffickers. We hope to obtain the evidence. The question is, can you assist us?" said Kira.
"The only lead I can provide you with is the disappearance of the heir to the Quinn family some time ago. However, he has recently returned. Certain individuals within Quinn Group did not want him to return, so they hired assassins to kill him. When the assassin arrived at the hotel, Young Quinn was not there. But I encountered these assassins. And there was more than one."
Upon hearing this, Lila and Kira exchanged a look. Lila immediately stood up, shook Shiller's hand, and said, "Thank you, Professor. This is a very valuable lead. The people of the West Coast and Mexico will not forget your kindness."
"We have important matters to attend to now, please excuse us." After saying this, Lila turned and left, with Kira following him after giving Shiller an apologetic smile.
Shiller returned to the table. A short while later, a figure of alternating black and yellow tones jumped in from the balcony. Deathstroke sat across from Shiller and began to eat after removing his mask.
"I never thought the day would come when a mercenary needed others to avenge him," Shiller said as he ate.
"They misused their order with me without explaining the situation. This is against the rules." Deathstroke's voice was deep and rough, its age indiscernible. "If everyone acted like them, we'd be forced to lower our prices."
Earlier, Deathstroke had asked Shiller for help dealing with the Quinn family, claiming they'd broken the rules by not informing him when they hired multiple assassins.
Simply put, the Quinn family took on multiple contractors without informing them of each other.
It was clear that the people behind the Quinn Group wanted to increase their chances of assassinating Oliver Quinn. After his death, with no target left, the remaining contracts would become void, making this an effective method to boost their success rate while only providing a small deposit.
However, this practice is essentially blasphemous within the industry. If all employers acted this way, the field would certainly become oversaturated. Assassins would not only have to compete on success rate, but also on speed and accuracy. This would only lead to underpayment and exploitation.
"Others have also thought of this method, but is that idiot not curious why those who used this approach no longer exist?" Even in casual conversation, Deathstroke remained cautious, avoiding any direct reference to his employer.
"But I can't frame him for this. This would also be against the rules. In this industry, a good reputation is necessary for continued employment." Deathstroke's voice lowered even more, becoming muffled.
"The CIA and Drug Enforcement Administration are closing in on the Quinn family. They're in for a tough time. Remember our deal. Now, you owe me a life." Shiller put down his utensils, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and said.
"There's more than just the CIA and Drug Enforcement Administration, right?" Deathstroke paused, then asked.
"Kira is a KGB operative. You must've already investigated. The black man he brought today is a possible former member of the Black Panther Party. He referred to the Quinn Group as 'vampires' and also mentioned West Coast residents and Mexicans. These are not concepts typically held by American agents..."
Shiller adjusted his clothes as if preparing to leave. Deathstroke continued to eat at a leisure pace. Before leaving, Shiller whispered: "America, Mexico, Soviet Union... Can you feel a storm coming?"
"None of this concerns me. I'm paid to kill." For the first time, emotion seeped into Deathstroke's voice. He said, "If you need to contact me, use the same number. I can kill anyone for you, no matter who they are."
"I hope so." Shiller picked up his umbrella, left his seat with an emotionless face, and exited the restaurant.
Standing on the hotel balcony, the morning light illuminated the sea. Golden-red waves rippled continuously, and flocks of seabirds circled above, with a few occasionally landing on the water's surface, their white wings stained red by the sunlight.
The West Coast morning remained calm and warm, and the people frolicking on the beach found nothing unusual about this scene. However, thousands of miles away on the Gulf of Mexico, the sight of the same vibrant red sea water had nothing to do with sunlight.
A pristine white fishing boat cut through the waves, slowly heading south through blood-red water. Several bodies slowly descended in the wake of the boat, attracting not only a group of sharks but also the tardy Hal, Arthur, and Ben.
"The sharks told me that those who died were fishermen, mostly from the north. Perhaps Americans, perhaps Mexicans." Arthur said in a low voice: "They were all killed by drug traffickers."
In an instant, the fishing boat began to glow green. Hal stood at the bow of the boat and commanded, "Full speed ahead; they must pay the price!"
The fishing boat, now powered by Green Lantern energy, could hardly be called a fishing boat anymore. Even warships couldn't match its speed. The three of them caught up to the drug traffickers who'd carried out the massacre by following the trail of blood.
The Green Lantern dealing with ordinary drug traffickers was a classic case of using a sledgehammer to crack a nut. Soon, the drug traffickers on the boat met a fate similar to the murdered fishermen. The swarm of sharks never left the blood-stained sea water.
For several days after, they followed the drug traffickers' footsteps, creating a wave of carnage throughout the Gulf of California, painting the sea water crimson wherever they went.
When they finally set foot on Sinaloa's land, they were met with a horrifying massacre.
The Guadalajara Organization, in retaliation for the unknown enemy's slaughter of their members, committed a massacre in a village in the southern region of Sinaloa that left 135 people dead.
The bodies were thrown into the sea, turning the tides of the Pacific's west coast crimson, shocking the entire world.