The Asmara Jugar the Mafia
Intervenires

Don Vargas sat quietly as he sipped coffee from behind the glass window of his suite room. He has been in Belgrade for more than a week. He rented a room at one of the luxury hotels in the Serbian capital. During that time, dozens of his men were deliberately spread throughout Europe, not even able to find the existence of Nenad Ljudevit.

Don Vargas nibbled his temple. It had been days of time he had spent hunting down his business rival. He was determined not to back down one bit. Moreover, now he has known the appearance of the city of weapons. He had coffee back from the white porcelain cup he was holding and then slowly stamped it. Don Vargas so enjoy the taste and aroma of expensive coffee that has been provided by the hotel.

The middle-aged man floated. While thinking, he put together the pieces of the puzzle that his men had already managed to gather over the past few days.

Don Vargas turned to the bar table to get some wine. “He is not in America, Russia, England or Italy. Where did that jerk disappear to? What kind of place is his hiding place now?” the middle-aged man who still looked dashing and ferocious just now knitted his eyebrows, while chewing on the wine he had just picked from his stalk.

“Basic eel!" swearing Don Vargas while reaching into a cell phone from his pants pocket, then open the gallery. His eyes stared intently at a face on the screen that Adriano had sent. A photo of the man believed to be Nenad Ljudevit. “If you're not anywhere, it's possible ..” Don Vargas stopped his sentence. Highlight those brown-colored eyes were directed back outwards.

Don Vargas then approached the window and observed Belgrade's crowded downtown highway. “Black Tower?” he murmured as he recalled the information once given by Adriano. “You crafty man!” don Vargas talks to himself. However, this time his face looked much more cheerful. “You can't be found anywhere, because you've never been anywhere" he said with a big smile on his lips. After which, there was a thunderous laughter as his footsteps moved swiftly out from within the hotel room.

Upon his arrival in the hallway, Don Vargas knocked on the one door that was beside the room he occupied. A moment later, the door opened. A tall, thin and thick-moustached figure appeared from inside there. “Don?” answer it politely.

“Prepare. We will go to the Black Tower right now!” the Order of Don Vargas. Without waiting for long, the Latin American man rushed into the elevator and pressed the button leading to the first floor.

After waiting for a moment while relaxing on the lobby sofa, some of Don Vargas' men came over while nodding at him. “We're ready, Don,” report one of them.

“Good,” dashingly, Don Vargas stood up then walked to the hotel parking lot. A valet officer greeted him in English while asking for his vehicle number. Don Vargas also mentioned a row of letters and numbers that were immediately responded to with a nod of the head of the valet officer as it continued to pass. While his other men walked ahead to where they parked the car.

Moments later, the valet officer returned while driving Don Vargas' luxury car. He came down and opened the door for his guest. “Please, Sir,” said.

“Thank you,” Don Vargas smiled faintly, then positioned himself behind the wheel. While fixing the center rearview, he saw his reflection to make sure that all his men were ready in their respective cars. At moderate speed, the man drove the vehicle out of the parking area and moved into the inter-city highway to Zlatibor.

About two hours drive he passed, until he arrived at the destination suburb. The trees immediately greeted him on the left and right side of the highway. Don Vargas' tires were clucking as a deer suddenly ran past just in front of the vehicle's muzzle. “Sial!” the middle-aged man grumbled while hitting the wheel. After the animal passed, Don Vargas stepped on the gas pedal again. However, this time he drove his vehicle slowly, until he found that the road that passed was cut off by an elongated high wall. The wall was made of mossy stone. Several yellow police lines cross the entrance of the wall.

“How now, Don?” ask one of them.

Don Vargas didn't answer right away. He rubbed his chin while thinking. Occasionally his eyes again swept every corner of the area around where he was now. “Nobody is here. I also did not see the whereabouts of the police,” he said later. “We're in,” break up Don Vargas.

“Good,” Don Vargas' tall man turned around in his car. He came back a while later while carrying the utensils in a black bag. The tool will be used to open the iron chain wrapped around the gate, where there is a large padlock at the end of the iron chain. The thick-moustached skinny man struck the padlock with a hammer, then cut the chain using a large-sized pliers. There was a sound of iron breaking and falling on the ground. After which, one leg kicked the already unlocked giant gate wide open. "Should I first examine the situation inside, Don,” bargained.

“No need! We go in together,” said Don Vargas with a firm tone.

"All right," the man responded. His other men also no one dared to argue. They nodded respectfully at the master while preparing their respective weapons, then walked in formation surrounding Don Vargas.

For a moment, the man with partially bleached hair was stunned by the circumstances around him. “This place is more like a concentration camp,” murmured.

He saw that there were some old buildings and houses standing irregularly with blackened walls. “Did this used to be a former war territory?” he murmured again as himself.

Don Vargas then stopped at one of the tallest buildings and also good condition when compared to other buildings and buildings. The entrance is also lined with police lines. However, soon he pulled it tight until it was cut off. After that, Don Vargas observed the shape of the door.

He put his face close to the door, then looked to the side. “This sliding door,” he said while trying to move the thick-glazed object to the side, “but it seems to be stuck,” Don Vargas stopped his business, then ruffled his waist. That was when, the tail of his eyes caught a flat object attached to the side wall of the door.

Don Vargas hit some numbers there, but nothing happened. He looked at it again from up close. There was a small, dark screen above the row of numbers. Don Vargas then snorted in annoyance. The automatic lock uses a barcode. He took the gun from behind his waist and shot the flat object. The sound of his weapon eruption echoed in that uninhabited place. Suddenly, the sliding door opened just like that. Don Vargas grinned and threw his smile at the few men who were always on guard standing behind.

“Come in first, Pedro!” don Vargas' word to one of his youngest men. The plontos-headed young man nodded. He went into the building holding a gun. His body moved nimbly, settling down the passageway while pointing the weapon in all directions. However, his footsteps immediately came to a halt as his tail caught something strange. “Don, you should see this!” yells.