At the time Samir was talking with Song Heping on the beach, nearby on a small yacht under the shade of its awning, a CIA agent disguised as a fishing enthusiast set down his binoculars and picked up a satellite phone.
"Target is on the beach, chatting with a subordinate from his company."
"Continue surveillance."
To the northeast in Venezuela, on the surface of the Caribbean Sea, a spy ship disguised as a cargo vessel was stationary.
Inside the cabin, the leader of the "Watcher" squad responsible for this operation, Wilson, put down his phone, stared at the screen showing Song Heping, scratched his head, and let out a heavy sigh.
"Damn it, it seems this guy has no intention of leaving Venezuela."
The deputy squad leader, Alvin, spinning a ballpoint pen in his hand, said numbly, "He won't even leave his own school; this is the best opportunity we've had in two months."
After speaking, his gaze shifted to Wilson, "Boss, should we just raid Margarita Island tonight and nab him?"
