Chapter 364: Overthinking
…
From his conversation with Frank, Fring came to a realization: Blue Angel wasn't produced in Chicago—it was coming from somewhere else.
And wherever that place was, it had to be far from Chicago—far enough that shipments needed to pass through his territory.
New Mexico alone was already a considerable distance from Chicago, practically spanning half the country.
But that raised a contradiction.
If the production site was so far away, why had Blue Angel first been distributed in Chicago?
There was an old saying—don't graze where you rest.
It wasn't just a saying. It was hard-earned wisdom.
Even bandits in ancient times wouldn't prey on nearby villages. Instead, they maintained good relations—protecting them from wild beasts or rival raiders, sometimes even sharing spoils. In many cases, villagers trusted bandits more than officials.
When the authorities came to suppress them, those same villagers would warn the bandits in advance.
Fring understood this logic perfectly—that was part of why he had survived in this line of work for twenty years.
If he were producing Blue Angel himself, he would never sell it locally.
He'd produce in one state, then distribute in another.
For example, if production happened in New Mexico, he would sell the product in Texas.
But Chicago?
Even as a smokescreen, that was too far. Too deliberate. Too unnatural.
What Fring didn't know… was how desperate Frank and his partners had been in the beginning.
Back then, they had no connections, no network, no buyers. Even with product in hand, they had nowhere to sell it locally. And after incidents like dealing with bodies—like that "Krazy-8" situation—they were even more cautious.
So they took the risk.
They traveled all the way to Chicago to move their product.
That chaotic, desperate choice had unknowingly shaped everything that followed.
Now, looking at Frank's conditions—especially the emphasis on having smuggling channels—Fring picked up on something else.
That requirement wasn't just a preference.
It was critical.
From Frank's tone, Fring could tell: logistics mattered more than the deal itself.
This route… was newly established.
And just so happened to pass through his territory.
So which was it?
Had Heisenberg already planned this route—and simply chose him as a convenient local partner?
Or had they chosen him first—and then built the route around his network?
The difference was subtle, but important.
Either way, one thing was clear in Fring's mind:
Heisenberg was undergoing major changes.
And as for its origins?
Fring was convinced—at the beginning, its production base must have been somewhere near Chicago.
Because after rising in Chicago, its expansion had moved north—to New York.
Not south.
If Chicago was the center, then New York lay to the north… while New Mexico was far to the south.
They weren't even remotely connected.
It was like drawing a map: Chicago at the center, New York somewhere like the far northeast…
And New Mexico?
That was the deep south.
Completely opposite directions.
So in Fring's mind, the conclusion was clear—the original production site had to be in Chicago, not somewhere down south like New Mexico. Otherwise, wouldn't the distance just keep increasing?
And the farther the distance, the higher the cost. That was basic logic.
From that, Fring inferred that this new transport route—from New Mexico to Chicago—must have been added recently.
Something had changed within Heisenberg. The production base had likely been relocated—moved from Chicago to somewhere further south, even beyond New Mexico, since shipments now needed to pass through this region.
In his mind, Fring mapped out the United States, running through possibilities—Nevada, California… even Alaska wasn't entirely out of the question.
In a matter of moments, he constructed multiple scenarios.
The smarter the person, the more they think.
Yet no matter how far his reasoning went, he could never guess the truth.
Frank simply didn't play by conventional rules.
He deliberately stretched the distance—accepting lower profits, accepting more hassle—just to maximize safety and scatter false leads.
Even someone as sharp and cautious as Fring, with partial insight into the operation, still ended up misjudging the situation.
Let alone the police.
From their perspective, Blue Angel first appeared in Chicago, then expanded northward to New York… and now was spreading south toward New Mexico.
Plot those three points on a map, factor in the timeline and expansion pattern, and the conclusion seemed obvious:
Chicago was the center.
The heart of it all.
In fact, that was exactly how the DEA task force targeting Heisenberg had been thinking.
Frank, of course, had no idea just how far Fring's thoughts had spiraled.
The two of them continued their discussion as if nothing unusual had happened, calmly working through the finer details of their future cooperation.
If you want to stay safe, you can never be afraid of going the extra mile.
"Pleasure doing business," Frank said at last, shaking Fring's hand before leaving the restaurant with Castle.
After they left, Fring remained seated alone, silent for a long time, lost in thought.
Only after a while did he move—reaching into his coat and pulling out a flip phone, dialing a number.
…
"We'll be heading back to Chicago in a few days," Frank said later, after returning home with Castle.
By now, he had handled most of what needed to be done. What remained would have to be left to Walter. Sooner or later, Walter had to stand on his own—he couldn't rely on Frank forever.
Still, Frank didn't leave immediately. There were details to take care of.
For example—the RV.
Frank didn't sell it off for scraps; the money meant nothing to him. Nor did he keep it as a sentimental relic, something to look at and reminisce about their early struggles.
Instead, he drove it straight to a scrapyard and paid to have it crushed into a flat slab of metal—just another anonymous piece in a mountain of scrap.
Who keeps secrets best?
The dead.
And objects were no different.
That RV held too many traces of their past. No matter how thoroughly it was cleaned, something could always be missed. Keeping it around out of nostalgia was just inviting future trouble.
Better to eliminate the risk at its root.
Just like when Frank had burned the blueprints of the arc reactor.
After dealing with the RV, Frank visited Walter's house once more. He chatted briefly with Walter Jr., then informed the family of his upcoming departure.
Later, in private, he discussed the arrangement with Fring in detail—placing special emphasis on the transportation side of things.
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