Eugene held his breath, his eyes flickering as he quickly understood Ribs' intentions: "Important information? You want me to..."
"Lure me out." A cruel arc appeared on the corner of Reeves' mouth. "You 'tell' Harold that I really want revenge, and my target is not only him...but also Sterling from the IRS. You have to 'betray' my whereabouts in New York..."
Eugene's breathing quickened as he understood Ribbs's plan. "You mean, using Sterling as bait... to lure Harold away from his fortress?"
Liebs nodded: "But an old fox like him won't believe it easily. You have to show him something that is enough to make him interested... Tell him that I will appear somewhere in New York, a place far away from his manor, but still a place he can control..."
Eugene took a deep breath of the air filled with the smell of motor oil, and his eyes became as firm as a rock. "I understand, Speaker. Acting... I did a lot of it when I was running around with Brother Fox in Chicago. What 'evidence' does Harold want? I'll prepare it now!"
Ribs's eyes swept over the pile of miscellaneous items in the dim warehouse. "No need to prepare deliberately. You are the evidence. A distraught traitor who has been cornered... Remember, no matter what happens, get him out of Long Island. The rest... is my business."
Eugene nodded heavily, his eyes no longer showing any hesitation, only the fierceness of tearing open his prey for his elder brother: "Understood! Speaker! Don't worry! My head is worthless, but I can definitely pull that old dog out of the hole!"
Reeves said nothing more, but just patted Eugene's strong arm.
He looked at the grease and stubble on Eugene's face and imagined how he would perform the traitorous face of despair and greed in front of Harold. This plan was full of danger and uncertainty, but it was the only way to get close to the old fox who was hiding behind layers of protection.
…
A few hours later, night fell.
A figure appeared outside the heavy iron gate of Harold Manor in Long Island, New York.
It was Eugene.
He looked even more disheveled at this moment than in the warehouse—his clothes were deliberately stained with several streaks of dust, his face was bruised and looked extremely exhausted and desperate, his hair was messy, and his eyes were distracted with a hint of a crazy desire for life.
He raised his hands high, and under the black muzzles of the special police outside the manor, who were watching him as if they were facing an enemy, he shouted at the monitor at the top of his lungs:
"Don't shoot! Please don't shoot! My name is Eugene! I'm from the New York branch of Black Rabbit Security! I want to see Mr. Harold! I surrender! I have important information!! I know where Ribs is! I know who he's going to kill!!!"
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