The barn showed signs of being abandoned, while the farmhouse that was about fifty feet away looked uninhabited as well. Technically, both were, since the family who owned this farm had obviously gone abroad, died out, or had been killed off by an angry mob.

Considering how off-grid the place was, even the last option was very much possible…

So, when two expensive cars arrived to park near the barn, thirty minutes apart from each other, and then two men in suits and long coats went out of the said vehicles to meet under the shade of a nearby tree, it’s obvious that this was a meeting that’s out of the ordinary.

“It took a while to scrape off enough tissue and blood just to get a proper sample, Hero. Other than the initial evidence that I ran off with before, I really can’t promise you more of those anytime soon, I’m sorry,” Myron the Insider AKA “The Snitch” said, as he passed over two clear corked vials to the other, more broad-shouldered man.

Hiromoto raised the two glass tubes against the bright sun to look at them carefully before replying, “We appreciate what you’ve already given us initially. Although, sadly, we couldn’t get any substantial data from those samples that you gave me a week ago.”

“I really would like to help you out, but that blast was so intense it practically vaporized some of the aluminum off his vehicle. It’s as if it were more of an airplane crash than a car bomb. You can’t imagine what that kind of explosion can do to a human body, bruh.”

“Well, that style definitely sounds like the Right Hand’s. With his kind of expertise with explosives and bombs, I can understand why the governor is a little iffy at how he supposedly died.”

“So, are you guys really buying that theory that he set this all up himself? Faking his own death and then disappearing into the beyond forever? Kind of far-fetched if you ask me,” asked the cop with the strawberry blond hair and dark green eyes while he started to shuffle pebbles with his shiny black leather ankle-high boots.

“Well, if he didn’t do it himself, someone other than us would probably have done it, and they should have the connections and the money to get that kind of bomb. Considering that he never worked for anyone other than the governor before, and he was practically invisible to his targets and his contacts, I really can’t think of who else could possibly do this. And we certainly didn’t do him in with that kind of method. It’s simply not our kind of killing.”

“Could it have been an inside job?”

“How could it have been an inside job if he wanted to get out of the group and he was practically doing it solo?” the half-Japanese, clean-shaven gangster lord asked with an irritated tone while one of his thick, dark eyebrows raised sharply.

“Beats me. You’re the Left Hand, the logical analyst and tactician. That’s your job to figure out, he, he,” guffawed Myron as he placed his hands inside his Constantine-like beige trench coat.

“Thanks a lot for your vote of confidence and faith in my skills, bro. Somehow, the way you say it doesn’t sound like a compliment, though,” chuckled The Left Hand, hitching his thumbs on his thick, dark brown belt.

“Hey, I’m paid to give information. If you want me to flatter you, I’ll give you a price list, Hero, ha, ha!”

“Touché, Myron. At least you are principled. Disloyal but still very principled.”

“Yep, that’s definitely me. I’ll give you additional info and samples if and when I can get some more,” agreed the Detective while taking out a legal-sized envelope from inside his trench coat. “Meanwhile, the photos you have right there are exactly what we got in forensics, and that’s the more legit versions, too. Compared to the other pics that the media picked up and are dumping into the internet, this is prime stuff I’m giving you guys, as always.”

The private army leader took a quick look inside the envelope before speaking. “Thanks, bro. And expect your payment within the hour. Commensurate with your performance as usual, and a large bonus from the Boss himself.”

“Got it, and thanks too, bruh. I’ve got to rake in the cash, you know. Planning to get married by the end of the year. Need to get the ring and the house ready, he he.”

“On my behalf, just tell the unlucky bride she’s getting a dud. She should be looking for a real man,” chuckled Hero with a sly and teasing grin.

“Oooohhh… Just for that, you’re not invited to my wedding,” fake-snapped Myron with a bigger grin.

The Left Hand actually laughed aloud - which was a rare occurrence - as he replied, “Yes, I was counting on that and you fell for it! I never liked shopping for wedding presents, and I get bored halfway through the ceremony.”

The Detective clapped his hands on his thighs as he chortled loudly. “Damn H, you can always give cash, you know.”

“We’re not that close, Detective, and it’s a lot better if it stays that way.”

“Well, I do hope I get invited to your wedding if that ever even happens, ha, ha!”

Sudden silence…

The smile had already dropped from Hiromoto’s handsome face when he replied a few moments later. “Let’s not… go there, shall we?”

The police lieutenant also paused and turned suddenly serious. “Of course, Hero. I’m sorry for getting a little too personal.”

It took a while for the taller and more muscled man to answer. “Well, that’s not the worst thing you can do, Detective. But yes, please don’t ever do that again. We’d hate to lose a perfectly good snitch, you know.”

Myron’s laugh was a bit forced and nervous. “Ha ha, nice joke, Left Hand. That’s a joke, right?”

Silence, as the dark-haired man in the black trench coat walked over to his Chevrolet Corvette Z06. The detective was soon running after him, seconds later.

“Hey, Hero, tell me it’s just a joke… Come on!”