HPDBC Chapter 51 One man's poison is another man's honey
Chapter 51 One man's poison is another man's honey
Honolulu, U.S. Embassy.
This is a typical colonial-style white villa, located in the quietest and most upscale neighborhood in Honolulu.
The Stars and Stripes were flying in front of the door, and two armed U.S. Marines stood at the entrance.
The building's interior is luxuriously and meticulously decorated, with heavy Persian carpets, oak wainscoting, and American-style decorative paintings everywhere, all of which highlight its status as the center of American power in Hawaii.
The innermost room on the second floor was the private office of Minister John Stevens.
The view here is superb, with huge floor-to-ceiling windows facing the royal palace not far away, as if silently overlooking and monitoring it.
When the black carriage came to an abrupt stop in front of the embassy, the white man with a small mustache practically jumped out of the carriage and rushed into the gate without even closing the door.
"Hey! Mr. Henry!"
Just as the guard at the door was about to salute, his arm was grabbed.
Is Mr. Stevens here?
"Yes, sir. The ambassador has been in his office..."
"good!"
Before the guard could finish speaking, Henry had already let go of her hand and rushed up the stairs, his hurried footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.
"Knock knock knock! Knock knock knock!"
A knocking sound, somewhat hurried and even a little rude, rang out.
Inside the office, behind a large mahogany desk.
Ambassador John Stevens, wearing gold-rimmed glasses and with his hair neatly combed, was holding a freshly brewed cup of coffee and a copy of the day's Pacific Business GG newspaper, his brow slightly furrowed.
Hearing the knock on the door, he didn't even look up, but simply said:
"Please come in."
Then, the office door was suddenly pushed open.
Henry burst in.
Although he straightened his tie slightly at the door and calmed his breathing, his tone when he spoke still betrayed an undisguised urgency:
"Stevens, you're already watching?"
He immediately noticed the newspaper in the ambassador's hand and subconsciously assumed that the other was also reading the sensational "Corriere della Sera".
Stevens gave him a strange look and waved the newspaper in his hand.
"What are you looking at? There's nothing new in today's newspaper, just some plantation owners protesting the sugar tariffs again. Hmm? Henry, what's wrong? Why are you so red?"
He immediately noticed the unusual behavior of his capable deputy.
Upon hearing this, Henry knew that the ambassador had not yet seen the document that was enough to change the situation.
He immediately strode forward and handed over the slightly crumpled copy of the Evening Post, his hands trembling slightly.
"Ambassador, stop looking at those pieces of waste paper. Take a look at this."
Stevens put down his coffee cup and took the somewhat cheap-looking tabloid with a suspicious look.
"The Evening Post? What's so good about that kind of low-class tabloid..."
As he spoke, he casually spread the newspaper out on the table.
"You rascal, why didn't you...?"
Stevens' words came to an abrupt halt, as if someone had grabbed him by the neck.
His gaze was fixed on the huge photograph of the corpse on the front page.
As he read on, his expression began to change like a chameleon.
First came surprise, then solemnity, and finally, her complexion gradually turned somewhat rosy.
My previously somewhat lazy sitting posture has unconsciously become upright and straight.
Henry stood quietly to the side, not daring to breathe, waiting for the ambassador to fully digest the newspaper.
Stevens reads extremely fast.
In fact, the content of this report is not complicated; in fact, it can be described as quite simple and straightforward.
The journalist named Lem clearly lacked literary skills, but that didn't stop him from writing a highly sensational news article.
The first half is an indictment of the brutal acts of plantation owner Hans, including the oppression of laborers, arbitrary killings, and exploitation of people for sugar, all presented in a horrifying manner.
Obviously, most of it was conjecture, but in a lawless place like a plantation, it was quite plausible.
The latter half describes the "Eastern Demon's" revenge process and provides a detailed record of the horrific scene.
The horrifying descriptions included images of brains splattered on walls, severed limbs flying everywhere, and the complete annihilation of dozens of elite cavalry units...
Furthermore, the "Eastern Demon" has no basis whatsoever and is probably just made up.
But these are not Stevens' main concerns.
He only cared about and wanted to confirm one thing—was this tragedy real?
The newspaper photos, taken from unusual angles and even showing the despair on the faces of the corpses, provide almost irrefutable evidence of this.
This is not fiction; it's a fact that just happened a dozen kilometers away!
Soon, Stevens took off his gold-rimmed glasses and tossed them onto the table.
He looked up and glanced at Henry, who was still standing to the side.
"You must have run all the way here, right? Sit down, don't stand." Although he said that, he himself stood up and paced back and forth in the office, looking somewhat excited.
Henry didn't sit down. He took a deep breath and finally asked the question he'd been holding back all the way:
"Ambassador, what's your opinion?!"
Stevens stopped, turned around, and tapped his fingers lightly on the open newspaper, making a rhythmic tapping sound.
"I remember... the Wipio Plantation, wasn't that Samuel Doris's property?"
Henry nodded vigorously and replied in a very fast voice:
"Yes! It's that conservative who always disagreed with us and opposed our radical annexation plan! And that Hans, I've met him a few times before, the dead man in this photo is him, no doubt about it! I never thought... he would be killed so pathetically."
Although Henry said "I didn't expect it," there was no regret in his tone.
Even if Hans was a white American like them, even if they were all Americans who died.
"hehe......"
Stevens suddenly laughed.
He picked up the newspaper and pointed to the sensational headline.
"Good riddance to Hans! He saved us so much trouble!"
"So, it really was God's will to annex Hawaii! Otherwise, why would this happen at this crucial moment? We were just looking for an excuse to intervene, and then God sent us such a perfect knife!"
He slammed his hand on the newspaper on the table, his eyes gleaming with delight.
"I think this headline needs a serious overhaul! What demon? This is clearly an angel of America!"
Seeing the usually refined and cultured ambassador utter such words, Henry not only didn't find it inappropriate, but instead opportunely offered his support:
"The Ambassador's insight is brilliant! This is indeed a golden opportunity! We can make the most of this, and even..."
Stevens glanced at Henry's eager expression with satisfaction, and his smile widened.
"That's right."
He sat back down in his chair, picked up the phone on his desk, and said, "Go and get the sheriff now. Tell him to take some men to that plantation for a casual stroll, just to make a show of it. Remember, don't take it too seriously, but don't be too perfunctory either. Make it a big show, let everyone know we're 'maintaining order'."
"As for me..."
As he dialed the telephone dial, he said:
"I need to call that old man Samuel and offer my condolences. After all, so many people have died; he must be under a lot of pressure. I think he should change some of his views."
"We'll be busy then. We might even have to go back to the United States to report to those gentlemen in Congress and explain the 'precarious' security situation here..."
Although they were talking about how busy they were with official duties and how serious the situation was, their eyes were full of smiles.
The two had been secretly planning to annex Hawaii for a long time, and were just worried about not finding a breakthrough.
Now it's all right, someone helped them tear the hole open, but it's still such a big hole.
The two looked at each other, perfectly in sync, and finally couldn't help but burst into laughter at the same time.
"Hahaha!"
The laughter echoed through the luxurious office, sounding particularly jarring.
The two stood in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the beautiful city. Behind them, on the desk, a newspaper filled with bloodshed and tragedy, recording dozens of lives, lay quietly open.
The photos of the corpses, each with its own distinct death, looked particularly desolate in the sunlight.
But in the eyes of those who pursue power and influence, or profit and fame, this is hardly a tragedy.
This is clearly honey soaked in blood, a red carpet leading to the main road!