"These gift boxes are not cheap."
Victor said as he opened it. Inside lay a gold watch, pure gold, weighing about 400 grams—a symbol of sheer extravagance. He joked, "I've never received such a gift before. Damn, this guy."
George Smiley opened the car door for him and casually remarked, "General, you're the best gift the Mexican people could ever ask for."
Victor glanced at him in surprise, then smiled and pointed at him.
Well, George Smiley had learned how to be flattering too.
Victor gently closed the door and waved his hand, signaling everyone to get in the cars. The convoy drove toward a villa district not far away.
It wasn't far, just about ten minutes.
On a small hillside in the city stood the villas. They used to belong to drug traffickers in Mexico City, later came under Popovich's ownership, and now, of course, were national assets.
