"Let's hear it, what have you come for?"
Twenty minutes later, in a little cabin on Barrett's Farm, he pushed a cup of coffee towards Song Heping.
"There's a job I have that requires someone who's very familiar with the drug cartels in Mexico and the underground transport networks, someone who can provide related resources. Someone recommended you to me."
Song Heping got straight to the point, with no intention to hide anything.
After all, for a guy who had managed to stay undercover in the Mexican drug network for six years without getting caught and burned alive in a tire fire, it wasn't a good idea to start hiding things now.
"Figures."
Barrett sank into the sofa, holding his coffee mug as he scrutinized the young Chinese man before him. His look was complex, seemingly mocking, admiring, and somewhat impatient.
However, Song Heping's shooting skills had earlier dazzled him.
And under Song Heping's guidance and advice, his subsequent shooting accuracy had reached 80%.
