The modern world, Somalia, Mogadishu.
A man in a leather jacket carried a suitcase and strode out of the airport. He wore a pair of round-framed sunglasses on his high nose bridge, and his sharp face looked quite fierce. Anyone could tell at a glance that this guy wasn't someone to mess with!
Standing outside the airport, Garrett looked around the busy streets and pressed on his headset.
"This is Garrett. We have arrived at Mogadishu Airport … Roger that."
Just like playing a video game, a blue road sign appeared in his field of vision, marking the mission location.
"Sh * t, this thing is really convenient."
Garrett muttered to himself. His eyes locked on the direction of the destination. He walked through the crowd and went straight to the blue road sign.
After crossing a street, he turned into a hotel owned by a local. Instead of going to the front desk to check in, he went straight to the upper floor. He stopped at the door of room 503 and gently pushed the door.
The door opened.
Just like the Ghost Agent said, the door wasn't locked.
Garrett walked through the door, his boots squeaking on the wooden floor. He carefully looked around, closed the door behind him, walked straight to the bed, and took out the room card from under the pillow.
Everything was as described in the mission briefing.
He grinned, then squatted down and pulled out a locked box from under the bed.
He entered the password, and with a click, the box popped open, revealing the Reaper Rifle with a black metallic luster, as well as the orange bullets and magazine.
He dumped the equipment on the bed, stuffed the rifle and drone into his travel bag, and put the pistol in his trouser pocket. After he was armed, he carried the suitcase and went out again.
When he went downstairs, a black man in a gray shirt stubbed out his cigarette and greeted him.
"Sir, do you need a bodyguard? $400 a day, and I can guarantee your safety in Somalia. "
"Do you have a car?"
"Of course, in Somalia, the bodyguard is the driver." The black man smiled, revealing his white teeth.
Garrett nodded and waved his hand.
"Take me to your car."
"Okay. My name is a bit long. You foreigners aren't used to it. You can call me Nasheed. "
"Smith," Garrett said emotionlessly.
Smith. That was the name on his passport.
Nasheed's car was parked next to a fruit stall not far from the hotel. A few children were sitting next to him, munching on apples.
After driving the child away, Nassidra opened the door and gestured to Garrett.
It was a modified Toyota pickup, and weld marks could be seen in the trailer at the back of the car. Without a doubt, this guy must have been a bandit or something in the past. Why? Because a Toyota pickup truck with a .50 caliber machine gun was the standard for terrorists.
After playing hide-and-seek with terrorists in Iraq for more than five years, Garrett knew these things very well.
However, he didn't say anything at the moment. He sat in the passenger seat and fastened his seat belt.
"Where to?" The black driver started the car and turned his head to ask.
"Hudur."
Nasheed, who was about to start the car, was obviously stunned.
"What's wrong?" asked Garrett.
"It's not peaceful there," Nasheed said. "I don't recommend you go there … That's Sabab's stronghold. You should have heard that they aren't friendly to Americans."
Garrett grinned.
"Just take me there and let me out of the car."
Nasheed made a helpless expression.
"If you insist."
Just as Nasheed got in the car, a woman with a black headscarf drove to the desert north of Hudur.
She parked the second-hand car next to a sand dune. The woman pulled off the camouflage headscarf and threw the pure black robe into the car, revealing her delicate face and the desert-colored combat suit with optical invisibility.
She went around to the back of the car, pulled up the trunk, and took out the hidden Ghost Sniper Rifle and the drone backpack.
She carried the sniper rifle on her shoulder, opened the holographic map, confirmed the coordinates of the target salt factory, and the contour lines of the surrounding terrain, and then walked to the sand dune next to it.
The small drone terminal was placed behind the sand dune. She then activated optical invisibility and moved to the top of the sand dune.
Crawling on the sand, she set up the sniper rifle in her hand, and the crosshair locked onto the salt factory hidden in the small village.
"The Ghost Bird is in position, waiting for attack instructions."
…
In the laboratory of the salt factory, Tanaka connected the glass tube into a flask filled with transparent liquid and carefully introduced the azure blue reagent. The moment the blue reagent merged into the transparent liquid, a chemical reaction suddenly occurred, and the originally incompatible blue liquid instantly disappeared without a trace.
The black man standing on the side widened his eyes and looked at the scene in disbelief.
"Did you learn it?" Tanaka asked with a smile.
The black man retracted his shocked gaze, pretended not to hear, and looked to the side.
"Don't be nervous, I know you were sent by Sabab to steal the technique. But you have to be careful when configuring this virus. If you don't pay attention, you may kill everyone. "
Just then, the door was suddenly pushed open, and a brown-skinned man walked in and said two words to Tanaka in Nihonese.
"He's here."
Tanaka's expression was slightly surprised, but he quickly returned to normal. He removed the glass tube from the flask and walked to another table.
"He's here. It seems that Jiang Chen still surprised me. "
"What should we do?" The brown-skinned man asked in a deep voice.
"How many tons of bath salts have been transferred to the desert?"
"97 tons."
Tanaka nodded with satisfaction, picked up the test tube, poured a little unknown powder into it, then poured the turbid liquid in the test tube into the flask and pressed the cork.
He raised the flask to the incandescent lamp and examined the oily luster on the surface of the liquid. Tanaka smiled without knowing what he was referring to.
"Very good, that's enough."
Tanaka stuffed the flask into the hands of the black chemist, patted him on the shoulder, and said in English with a smile.
"Since you've seen it so many times, try it yourself."
The black man looked at the flask in his hand and looked at Tanaka, not knowing what to do.
"What, what should I do?"
"Add the embryonic stem cell sample in the brown bottle over there into the flask, then put it in a petri dish and incubate it at 37 ° C for two hours. The final step of the virus will be completed. I'm going to the bathroom, then go eat. Don't worry, I've completed the dangerous steps. Try it, you can do it! "
Tanaka and the brown-skinned man walked out the door, leaving the black chemist with a blank expression.
"Did you tell him the formula?"
"Yes, he won't live for long anyway," Tanaka said with a smile.
In the village where the salt factory was located, including the elderly, children, and women, there were about 1,000 people. 500 of them were directly or indirectly related to the drug business. With the help of Sabab, he took over Mr. Zhu's business without any effort, and now he was the boss here.
Therefore, when he walked out of the salt factory, these ignorant natives all looked at him with reverence.
They didn't realize the man who was about to bring them death.
Tanaka walked to the Toyota pickup parked at the gate and opened the door, but he didn't get in. He looked up at the glaring sun, narrowed his eyes, and said softly.
"The Kurofune has ushered in the final moment. Soon, the world will remember our name, be afraid of this name, and welcome the era of harmony in the horn of doomsday that we blow. Sakda, do you choose to meet our enemy here, or follow me to the end? "
"Is there a difference?"
"There is no difference, our destination is the same."
"Then I choose to meet them here," the brown-skinned man said in a deep voice.
A cloud obscured the gradually sinking sunlight.
Tanaka nodded with a smile and patted his shoulder.
"Long martial arts."
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