Rabenn remembers the atmosphere in that war room as dead silence and sweat, more stress than will or expectation. He was aware of the possibility of a Ross Ulbricht-style arrest and confiscation of Cazes’ laptop while on location, not to mention his phone – it was too well-known. Even after all their international meetings and calls to plan over the past months, and despite his steady driving enthusiasm, Rabenn found himself silently hoping their plan would fail.
Across the table, Sanchez was introduced to Roosh V. He checked Rawmeo’s profile and assured the group that he was online and active: Cazes was at his keyboard. It was time.
Then, moments later, a voice rang out from the conference phone on the table. “Oh God,” it said. “We closed.”
It was a group in Lithuania. Somehow, the agents there accidentally crashed AlphaBay’s server before they could finish recording it. In a short time, Cazes was informed that AlphaBay had gone down, possibly due to foul play. All he needs to do is close his laptop and the game is over.
There was nothing to do: The group in the conference room told the delegates that they had to arrest Cazes and do it. now.
Pisal gave information over the police radio to two women in a gray Toyota Camry at the mouth of the cul-de-sac. Just a day before, the NSB chief and his team had abandoned the postal system. The post office warned them that Cazes did not sign for the package himself, that his wife often came to the door. So they had to think of another last resort. Their Plan B now settled on the Toyota and the dim-witted Nueng, who sat in the driver’s seat, muttering Buddhist prayers to himself to slow his heart rate.
A few seconds After that, there was a loud thud at the edge of the cul-de-sac, followed by the screeching of metal on concrete. The Camry had just plowed behind the fence of the Cazes’ two-story house, bending over the front gate, dragging it onto the tracks, and making a noise that disrupted the quiet morning outside Thailand. capital.
The security guard at the end of the cul-de-sac started yelling angrily at Nueng. He didn’t just told him to come back? Nueng and another assistant in his car got out of the car, and Nueng stood on the road, scratching his head to show that he was okay, apologizing and explaining to the guard that he was still learning to drive. At that moment, a vertical shutter was slightly opened on the second-floor window in front of the building – a detail, visible on video surveillance, that brought excitement to the war room at the NSB headquarters.
They had found the layout of the house on the first trip to the house, and knew that this was the master bedroom. Did Cazes leave his computer?
After some time, Cazes’ wife, Sunisa Thapsuwan, came out of the house and poked her head through the curved gate. The young Thai woman, wearing a long shirt over her stomach, kindly reassured Nueng that it was okay, so that she and her friend could leave. But Nueng, playing his part bravely, shouted—as loud as he could, trying to get Cazes to hear in the house—that he would have to pay for the damage.
“I’d like to pay!” He pleaded. “I don’t want to pay for it in another life! His hands shook as he channeled his adrenaline into the anxiety of a poor man who owed money to a rich man.
