Meanwhile…
"Sir, the house is clear."
A man in his fifties, but appeared younger with his neat haircut that blended the white strands of his hair to his black hair, glanced at the young man who came to report about the situation inside the house. He snapped his eyes at the house entrance, only to see a flimsy vine-covered gate.
The place was situated in a rural town in Sorrento — a perfect hiding place for a syndicate like Dimitri's.
"Tell the guys to take all the valuables in it," ordered the old man as he cut the end of the cigar before clipping it between his teeth. "We're sending it to the Interpol."
"Yes, President."
With that being said, the man jogged back inside the house they raided. Meanwhile, another man on standby approached the old man, lighting up his cigar systematically.
"They would be here any moment," said the old man after taking a long drag of the cigar. "I'm taking Dimitri with me."
