Cobus slid the photo of Basani into his pocket as Wan sat down at his table. “I’ve heard reports of people in Hong Kong getting poisoned by rhino horn,” Wan said.

Cobus slowly finished chewing the bite in his mouth, using every millisecond to cycle through his options. How much did Wan know? That would affect what type of lie Cobus could maintain, and whether one of them would need to die in the next thirty seconds.

“I know,” Cobus replied, catching Wan off guard. “I heard about them too. But the reports are bullshit. It’s a psyops tactic used by law enforcement. They’re trying to scare your buyers to reduce demand.”

“Then our product should be fine,” Wan responded coolly, the matter apparently settled.

Wan reached in his pocket and produced a plastic pouch of gray powder with a dragon stamp on it. Cobus knew instantly it was from his powdered rhino horn supply. He watched in silence as Wan poured the powder into Cobus’s half-empty cup of Coca-Cola, stirring it with Cobus’s straw.

“To your health,” he said, and slid the cup to Cobus.

Without a word, Cobus knocked back the Coke and placed the cup upside down on the table. He met Wan’s gaze, annoyed. “No more games.”

Satisfied, Wan withdrew a piece of paper from his jacket. As he did, Cobus surreptitiously checked the time on his watch.

“I have job for you,” Wan said. “One of our dealers in Kowloon was busted by a cop. She never filed a report.”

Cobus considered the odd request. The fact that the cop didn’t file a report suggested she was not harassing Wan’s dealer in a law enforcement capacity.

“You want me to find out if she works for the competition?”

“No, I want you to send her a message.”

“Like the one you gave those 14K boys at the docks?”

“Whatever you must do to make her stay away from our operations.”

Wan unfolded the square of paper on the table. It was the personal information of a woman Cobus had never heard of—some inspector in the Narcotics Bureau.

Cobus glanced at it and looked up. “I’ll handle it.”

As Wan finally turned his back to leave, Cobus again checked his watch. It felt like an eternity before the door finally shut behind Wan. The second it did, he exploded from his seat like a .338 Lapua Magnum round.

Cobus barged through the kitchen in the back of the restaurant, slamming into a cook and knocking over a boiling pot of noodles as he passed.

He’d had no choice but to drink the poisoned horn Wan presented him with. It was an all-or-nothing bet that he could outrun the poison snaking through his bloodstream toward his central nervous system.