Chapter 37 Wang Chen - 8

Since then, although many other people have seen and talked to the king, the only one who can tell the whereabouts of the king is Diego Haas, and he more or less revealed it to George Taras. some situations. Brothers Elephant Petridis, Alois Knapp, Paul Subis, Chinese Han, Roger Dunn, Ernie Gorzciniak, Francisco Santana There were men, Henry Chance, Ethel Court, and of course Setniaz and Taras, each of whom had seen the king several times, and some had stayed with him for days.In the five years after Aestivation's death.Reb Klimrod traveled a lot, visited many strange places, and often appeared in the most unexpected places.For example, in the early 1960s, especially in 1963, Klimrod started to open textile factories in Southeast Asia, and then developed the electronics industry.At the time, at least he had visited Han, who was based in Hong Kong and Singapore, ten times.

He continued to expand his intricate web of companies for at least another five years, until 1966.At the same time, Setiniaz implemented a new classification system for his archives, which would be aided by computers.It was also around that time that he expanded his Fifty-eighth Street office to add a floor for his computers. "To a certain extent," he said later, "I could explore the trails that Reber left. We rarely saw each other, and when we met, or when Reber called me, he never said where he was always. He They began to direct more and more indirectly through the black dogs, and the number of black dogs increased a lot, reaching twenty-six between 1965 and 1966."

"In playing the part of the black dog, he merely perfected what worked well at the outset. Most of these men, fourteen to be exact, were originally Romanians, and generally tended to Jewish (but not necessarily all), mostly US citizens (but not necessarily all).I don't know much about the Romanian diaspora around the world, nor the two world wars Why did the Wallachians, Moldovans, and Transylvanians emigrate to other countries during and after 1945. However, in the process of searching for the traces of Leiber's past, we will get this My impression: there are these Romanians all over the world. One day I even received a man named Dimistris who came to my office with an Australian passport and reported to me that Reber had established three new Companies: an airline company, two mining companies, located in New South Wales and Perth, that is to say, in Han’s fief."

"However, no matter what blood or nationality they belong to, they all have certain common characteristics, that is: fanatical and blind loyalty to Leiber. They have been ordered to report to me, but as soon as the account is over, if I asked them to tell me about Reb Klimrod, and they would stare blankly at me and ask, 'Who do you mean?'" "The only source we have about Reber's day-to-day life is Haas." And of course Ubaldo Rocha and certain South Americans.But during Klimrod's second offensive until 1967, David Setiniaz knew nothing of the Rosakis.He also didn't know about the existence of Jorge Socrates and Emerson Coelho, and he certainly didn't know anything about the feat that was quietly going on and taking shape on the South American continent.

Therefore, the episode of Waco's Curiosity was passed to the ears of Setiniaz through Diego Haas and through George Taras. In Dallas, Leiber spent two days negotiating with oil majors and bankers.As was his usual practice, he did not take part in the negotiations himself, but had two lawyers do it for him; one was a Texan named Gary Morse (he never knew Klimrod's name), the other was A quick-witted, well-bred Mexican named Francisco Santana. Santana was a prince who had worked for Klimrod for nine years before and after the Waco incident in July 1964.At least, his name had appeared in Seitiniaz's files in the spring of 1955, when a new dossier identified him, marked with a red "special" on the first page.

He was slender, handsome, and his long and big eyes showed that he was of some Indian blood, and he looked like a child of a Spanish-Mexican family; but despite his appearance, his origin was extremely ordinary, he was born in a remote Due to good luck and hard work, he obtained several diplomas.Georges Taras nicknamed him "Matador" (The Stinger).Look at his quick wit.He speaks accurately and fluently, calm-headed and concentrated during negotiations, somewhat like the star Ordonez in the bullring, especially Domingin. Francisco Santana is a prince who is in charge of various affairs, including industries in low-tax areas and matters related to Venezuela, the United States, and Caribbean oil. What is particularly amazing is that he is also in charge of desalination of sea water.

In the Dallas negotiations, he was publicly identified as a representative of a U.S.-Mexican consortium.The consortium owns 10,000 hectares of land in Dallas, the suburbs of Dallas, and Fort Worth, all purchased in 1952-1953 and 1957.According to Setioniaz, these properties total 19,500 hectares and are owned by five Panamanian companies.1957 was the year Klimrod worked with Tudor Angel on Operation Nevada. The people who dealt with Santana were members of the two most powerful small imperial courts in the area; Nessim Shah also dealt with them when he was engaged in large-scale silver speculation on behalf of Klimrod.

With the assistance of Morse, Santana was routinely active in the negotiations, while scrupulously carrying out the instructions given to him by Klimrod in advance.And Leiber has the right to act as the Mexican's assistant who carries the documents, and attends the meeting as a non-voting attendant. As long as Santana makes a gesture, Leiber immediately jumps up with his unique sense of humor to light a cigarette for the "boss" (Santana smokes a cigarette). is a long cigar).Three pre-planned exchanges were agreed: several hectares of real estate near Cliff Park Lake for several buildings in the business district, and land near the Dallas-Fort Worth tax road for part interest in several companies. Part of the equity is exchanged for a majority of the equity of another company through capital increase or no capital increase.Although the deal closed in July 1964, Morse and Santana had actually started working on it fourteen months earlier.

The total transaction value is approximately US$73 million. "Did you actually light a cigar for that Mexican jackass?" Diego was driving a small delivery truck.Three hours earlier, at dawn, he and Reb had left Dallas and were heading west, Diego didn't know why. "One of the lawyers, Carlson, the one facing Francisco and Morse, met me once before. That was five years ago in Houston. This time he almost recognized me. In Houston When he was told I was Dremmler, this time Francisco introduced me as Fuente." "Holy Mother!" Diego pretended to sigh in a mocking tone. "That was a complete disaster. Did he come to Dallas to die? And the Tactic should have told you beforehand that Carlson was going there too. You must remember his name."

"The other party changed people temporarily, and Morse forgot to inform Francisco. Morse will never work with us again. Diego, I'm hungry." They had just crossed Abilene and the car was heading straight for Pecos in the direction of El Paso.Diego still doesn't know what to do.Reber said to go this way, and he will go this way.It's that simple.They spent two nights in a motel in Dallas, and when they left, Reber said, "Let's change our clothes." They took off their suits and ties, and put on old leggings and not-so-new denim, worn out. pointed cowboy boots. "It's uncomfortable to wear these things," Diego complained. "It's not good for my little feet, for my fat little ass, for my cute little pot belly. I look like a cartoon Mickey Mouse or speedy Gonzalez are all you need is a sombrero.”

"By the way," said Reber, "you really need a hat. I advise you not to run around bareheaded around here." "What else?" Diego said with a sigh. A hut appeared to their right, and four white capital letters "FOOD" indicated that there was food for sale there. "Do you want to stop?" "No." "I think you're hungry." "You can bear it. We're not there yet." "I wonder where we're going. Where are you talking about?" "Sweet Water Town." They reached that place around eleven o'clock in the morning on July 2nd.According to Diego, it wasn't worth the trip, or even a stop, at all.It was a small place, with houses lined up in a long row, as if sleeping forever under the scorching sun. Leiber chose an ordinary-looking restaurant.They asked for steak, and Diego explained to the waiter with no hope how many times he wanted his steak to be tender, tender, very red on the outside and almost raw on the inside, "Do you understand what I mean? "In fact, he had already decided in his heart that he was sure that the steak must be overcooked when it was served.Besides, the waiter acted like he didn't want to hear it at all.And indeed it is.They ate.Then, just as they were finishing their requisite apple steak, it happened. A man walks into the restaurant with tattoos on his muscular arms, his hair cut short like a marine, and he wears a black cowboy hat with a lizard or snakeskin sash.In his left hand he held a tin can, covered and fastened with a leather strap. He put the tin can on a stool near him and ordered a beer. Diego, aware of Reb's temper, noticed a spark in his eye, a sign that Reb had found something entertaining. He asked, "What's going on?" "Look at the poster on the wall next to him," Reber said. Diego looked up, but had to almost stand up to see clearly.The key words were: "Waco" (he knew it was a city in Texas), "rattlesnake hunt" and "three hundred dollar prize."Diego only felt a cold air piercing his bones. "That's why we're here?" "Ok……" Diego knew what a stalk was, and he knew what a rattlesnake was, and he was amazed. It was—a big surprise, and he thought he'd start throwing up right away. "You should catch the damn things yourself," said the man with the tattoo on his arm.His name was Jock Wilson. "These are mine. But if you want me to go with you, that's fine. Twenty dollars." "Six dollars," Reber said. The two parties reached an agreement on twelve dollars. Their little yellow van left Sweetwater and headed into the red-hot hills where the temperature was at least fifty-five degrees Celsius.Wilson carried all the necessary equipment: a pincer stick (tipped with pincers made of braided wire), a small mirror, a can of gasoline, and the indispensable tin can. They caught three in the first hour: the reptiles were hiding in a crevice in a shady rock, and even they couldn't stand the heat.But in the next two hours, there was not even a shadow of a snake. "There are very few snakes left in this area," Wilson explained, "but if you're lucky enough to meet me, I know all about this damned place. Don't worry, the fifteen dollars you promised me won't go to waste." "Twelve dollars," Reber said, laughing. "Another beer when I get back." They use small mirrors to gather sunlight and methodically spot every crevice in the rocks.Finally, a nest of wriggling reptiles was forced out.Wilson inserted a small copper tube into the gasoline can and began to slowly sprinkle gasoline. "Watch it, friend..." In the next few minutes they caught six rattlesnakes with pincer sticks.Reber was marveling at the agility of one of them moving laterally, and the snake had swum up to bite his boot toe. "This rattlesnake is exactly what you want," Wilson said. "It doesn't wriggle like the other goddamn things, it just stays right on the goddamn side. This snake can go a mile and a half in one breath. You've seen it, and you can believe it. These are the race ones Rattlesnakes, my friend. You gotta watch out. Just catch one more and you've got ten damned." Among the snakes they caught that day were six horned rattlesnakes, the longest one measuring seventy or eighty centimeters.A Cascavel rattlesnake was 1.5 meters long, with a mosaic pattern on its back as usual, and many spots were connected into a ribbon pattern extending along the body of the snake.The other three are ridge snakes with diamond-shaped patterns on their backs, and the longest one is two meters long. As for their harm to people, it is obvious, but not quite the same.Horned snakes and ridge snakes can shoot venom into the lining of blood vessels, destroying tissue.The Cascavel snake is special; its fangs, like those of the spine snake, are sometimes four centimeters long, and its venom contains a neurotoxin that paralyzes muscles, especially the heart muscle. "That depends, my friend," said Wilson, in response to a question Diego put to him, "if you had to be bitten by one of those darn things, it would be by a horned snake or a groin snake. Those Cascavel snakes are no goddamn fun. But no matter what kind of rattlesnake you get bitten by, they'll be dead in thirty or forty minutes anyway. You'll be reimbursed, too." The tenth snake, a crocodile snake, was caught just before nightfall.It is trying to chase a rabbit.Both Diego and Reb clamped it to the ground, lifted it up and waved it, and stuffed it into the tin can.Wilson just snapped the lid back on. "That's not my snake. I, I'm just a guide. Don't you forget that. Thirteen dollars?" "Twelve dollars and a glass of beer." Diego only felt that the blood on his body was congealed.They returned to the minivan. "You want to go to the game in Waco?" Reb nodded.Halson looked at him curiously. "Ever played rattlesnakes before?" "To be honest, no," Reber replied. The game takes place in a large barn specially set aside on the farm.Some large agricultural machinery is used to set up temporary stands, leaving a small competition field in the middle.The farm was on the banks of the Brazos River, about ten kilometers south of Waco, forty-five kilometers from the skyscrapers of Dallas. There is a thin wire cage in the center of the arena, but it is only three meters square.The cage has no roof, and the barbed wire walls are as high as 1.20 meters.There were two hundred and fifty to three hundred people in the audience, each of whom paid a dollar and fifty cents to see the game. "Do you understand what I am asking of you, Diego?" "clear." "Diego, I will never forgive you if you move before I give the signal." "I understand, Reb." There was silence in the barn.As soon as the contents of a small iron box were poured into the cage, ten rattlesnakes stretched out, and many of them wagged their tails.One slammed into the barbed wire furiously, opened its mouth disproportionately, and bit the wire twice.The crowd began to boo, as ecstatic spectators do when a valiant bull enters the ring. When the first group came out, the uproar died down immediately.A group is two people.They wore leggings, shirts, cowboy hats, and cowboy boots.No gloves or anything like that on your hands.One of them carried a thick sack of the kind used for grain. They wait until the game host gives the signal "go" and jump into action.One of them clamped the rattlesnake with a very long pincer, pressed the snake's head tightly against the wooden board of the game table, and tightly grasped the vital point under its jaw with his fingers, and then threw the snake into the sack.His assistant opened the mouth of the sack only for the split second necessary, no more and no less.While one person was catching the snake, the other waved the sack in the air to keep the distance between the snakes. They don't move too fast.It actually took more than two minutes and ten seconds to catch the ten snakes into the sack one by one. "Not bad. But you can go a lot faster," said the race host.He reminded the audience that the record for this race was one minute and nine seconds. "Reb!" "Don't worry, Diego." Leiber still had his hands on his hips, his eyes seemed erratic and distant. "Reb, who will go into the cage with you to open the sack?" "Wilson." There was no sound in the arena.The second group went into the cage. "To hell with Wilson," said Diego, suddenly determined. "I'm going to open the sack for you, no one else." "No." "All right then, Reb. In that case, you'll have to knock me out first. Otherwise, I, I'm going to jump in the cage and sit on those damned snakes." Diego was surrounded by two fears that equally terrified him: the fear of the rattlesnake, that was obvious; This is more severe than the previous fear.It never occurred to him to stop Reber from "playing snakes" (Wilson's term).Even if he had thought of it, he would have dismissed it immediately, because he followed Leiber in everything.He thinks that his mission is to follow along, puff up or push when necessary, anyway, one way will go to the end.No matter what way.No matter where the end is. "Reb, I beg you," he trembled, with tears in his eyes, "Don't turn me down, Reb." "Jock," Mauber said to Wilson calmly, "there's a slight change in plan. Diego will go to the sack in your place. The rest is very simple, Jock, as long as I don't look at you, you don't need anything." Do. Don't do anything. Clear?" "My friend, this is insane," Wilson said. "I'll stare at you for a few seconds, and then, and only then, and not before, can you intervene." "Okay. If you like that." "I would like to." They are placed in the fifth group.A fourth group of two men from a nearby town set a new record: it took only fifty-nine seconds to trap ten snakes into the sack, an astonishing record.It seems that the bonus of three hundred dollars has belonged to them.They proceeded to kill the snakes, skin them, and cook them over coals for a feast to celebrate their impending victory. The third group didn't go so well.They had to have help from outside the cage to hold the snake down with claw hooks.The one who caught the snake was bitten on the leg and was immediately loaded into one of three ambulances on standby and taken to the hospital. Leiber's group was fine when catching the front nine snakes, although the speed was not ideal.When the ninth snake was thrown into Diego's open sack, nearly a minute and a half had passed, and Diego was already dripping with sweat.He thought Leiber could move a little faster.However, every time, Leiber did not hesitate to use his big hand to grab the part of the triangular head immediately behind the snake's neck, and then calmly made the last movement, throwing the desperately writhing snake body into the snake without any haste. sack.His face was expressionless, but he smiled at Diego twice.For a few seconds Diego thought Reber had decided to abandon the plan. Now it is the turn of the tenth snake.This is a ridge snake with beautiful patterns and bright colors, nearly 1.5 meters long.When Leiber approached, it took a duel position: the tail of the snake stood up vertically in an S shape; …Until the stick in Leiber’s right hand reached less than 20 centimeters away from it, the tongue suddenly shot out at lightning speed, and in the next tenth of a second, Leiber quickly grabbed the snake’s head with his left hand In the back part, the snake's body, which was emptied repeatedly like a whip, was then encircled. "Look, Diego," Reber said, smiling a third time. He threw away the stick, and carefully placed his right hand in place of his left to grab the snake's neck.He squeezed it hard, and the snake's upper and lower jaws immediately opened, unbelievably large, and the fangs were clearly visible. "Okay," Reber said. He stretched out his left hand in front of the snake, and let go of his right hand that was holding the snake.The crowd screamed.The fangs are inserted directly into the tiger's mouth at the base of the thumb and index finger. "Diego, hold on to the sack," Reber said through clenched teeth.After that, he couldn't speak again. At this moment a man jumped into the cage and snatched the sack that was about to fall from Diego's hands.The other man, Wilson, rushed up to Leiber, cut off the snake's head, and pulled the snake's teeth out of Leiber's hand.He and two others took Reb by his arms and knees and lifted him out of his cage and onto a table. Leiber's whole body was trembling, his face was pale, his teeth were clenched, his eyes were closed, his nostrils were constricted, and he said nothing. Someone said: "The bad meat must be dug out." The bitten hand was swollen, spreading to the wrist and forearm as circulation was impeded and the skin became numb. A deathly silence hung over the barn. "We'll just have to wait," Wilson said. "He told me to wait until he looked at me. Ask his friend if you don't believe me." "We'll just have to wait," Diego said, his yellow eyes seemingly ablaze. thirty seconds. "Watch the ambulance," Wilson said. "Don't panic, my friend." "Forty seconds, Reber," Diego said. "Don't panic, friend." "Fifty seconds," Diego said. This made Reber convulse, and he would have fallen to the floor had it not been for the two men holding him up. "Don't panic, friend." "One minute," Diego said. Another twenty-five seconds later, Reber opened his eyes, and he could tell he was still trying to smile, those clear gray eyes looking first to Diego and then to Wilson. "Good!" Wilson screamed. They picked him up and carried him straight to the ambulance waiting with the door open, the driver sitting behind the steering wheel with a stretcher and everything ready.A paramedic tried to stop Diego from getting into the ambulance, but the Argentine pressed the barrel of a Colt automatic to his stomach. "If he dies before we get there, buddy, we'll all die. Muy pronto, por favor. (Note: Spanish, please hurry up.)" In that ambulance, without any anesthesia, they used a knife to cut off all the necrotic flesh, starting from the jaw of the left hand, passing through the entire wrist, almost to the elbow, cutting nearly 30 centimeters A long strip, five centimeters wide at its worst point.The depth of the knife was about five millimeters, and the blood flow was relatively small. Later, the Waco doctors told Diego that their butcher-like brute force was not going to work. "But there are some lunatics who are proud of it and regard their scars as pride. In this regard, your friend can probably set some kind of record." Of course, Reber didn't die from it anyway.