Victor hadn't finished smoking his cigarette when Special Agent Stephen Moyer came back, his expression carrying a hint of relief.
"The gentlemen have agreed to your demands," he said.
"Transfer the money into the account!"
Victor signaled Casare beside him, who hurriedly handed over the prepared card number.
A flicker of irritation crossed Stephen Moyer's eyes as he took the card number, his brow furrowed. "You still don't trust us?"
Victor chuckled, "I like to have the money in hand."
He just didn't trust the integrity of the Mexican bureaucracy.
It was strange for a country's credibility to be doubted by its own police, and with no other option, Stephen Moyer had to make another call to hurry things along.
Just then, they heard Stephen Moyer's voice coming from the doorway, "Sir! What if he truly brings people to Mexico City for the money?"
Victor paused, glanced at Alejandro, and said with a smile, "Is that about me?"
