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Title: Content: The other four passengers travelling with the old man and his niece maintained their discreet distance, a scattered constellation of seemingly unrelated travellers. Their drivers�two Colombians and two Mexicans, all housemates from 93 Abel Street�were known to them, trusted faces from past operations in Colombia. Each driver collected his assigned passenger with a quiet, practiced familiarity, yet the group showed no outward sign of connection. To any watching eye, they were merely strangers arriving on separate journeys, their unity a carefully guarded secret. The BMW carrying Carlos and the girl slid into the stream of cars, vanishing among the glare of headlights and the restless tide of Johannesburg traffic. Within minutes, it was just another vehicle swallowed by the neon veins of the city�heading toward Hillbrow. The four vehicles carrying the four men travelling with Carlos left the curb at separate, unhurried intervals. Only once they had merged into the flow of the N12 highway to Johannesburg did the formation subtly tighten. Two cars slid ahead, overtaking the old BMW, while the other two dropped into place behind it. A protective cordon, seamless and discreet, now encased Ramirez's car�a synchronized shield moving as one through the night traffic. Page Number: Update Page