The adrenaline in Song Heping's body began to seep out quietly.
Go with him?
Once inside that little black room, what happens next becos entirely uncontrollable.
His mind raced, assessing the possibility of forcing his way through, his eyes subconsciously starting to search for the nearest exit and potential obstacles.
However, his strong resolve, honed by years of living on the edge, allowed him to maintain a slightly confused and harmless businessman's expression on the surface.
He furrowed his brows slightly, speaking in fluent English, with a tone that carried just the right amount of surprise and an almost imperceptible hint of humility, asking, "A problem? Sir, may I ask what the issue is? My passport and visa should both be valid."
The customs officer leaned back in his chair, tapping the passport with his fingers intermittently, wearing an "you know what I an" expression.
He didn't directly answer Song Heping's question but instead dragged out his reply, speaking in heavily accented English, each syllable seemingly dipped in a pot of curry:
"Uh… Li… Xinan, right? Coming from Dubai? Hmm… this situation, well, it's a bit complicated. You see, recently, there are new regulations, and for travelers from certain specific regions, we need to conduct so... uh... additional 'health checks' and 'background verification.' It's a special procedure, very ti-consuming. It might take a few hours, or even… who knows?"
When he said "special procedure" and "very ti-consuming," his tone was deliberately emphasized, and his deep brown eyes gazed aningfully at Song Heping, while his right thumb and index finger discreetly rubbed together, making a universally understood gesture.
The movent was as quick as a fly flapping its wings, but how could an old hand like Song Heping not understand it?
Goddammit!
So that's how it is!
Song Heping cursed inwardly, and his previously tightened nerves instantly relaxed considerably, but a sense of revulsion simultaneously arose.
This damned bastard!
It was all about bribery!
Made it seem so real, he almost thought he was done for here.
Song Heping reacted swiftly as well, imdiately putting on a smile that combined an 'aha mont' with 'I know the rules,' quickly nodding, "Oh! I understand, I understand, sir. Truly, special tis require special procedures, I completely understand the hard work you do."
As he spoke, he casually reached for the passport holder placed on the counter.
The officer, seeing this, stopped tapping his fingers on the desk, a flicker of anticipation crossed his eyes, but he still labored to maintain a formal and stern deanor.
Song Heping opened the passport holder, smoothly extracting three ten-dollar bills hidden within the US dollars cash.
Leaning forward slightly, using the passport holder and his body as cover, he naturally folded the thirty dollars over and over, then skillfully slipped them back into the inner page of the passport, right between the page with the photo and personal information.
He then handed the passport back with both hands, smiling as he said, "Sir, you see, all required docunts and 'information' are inside. It should be sufficiently 'complete.' Could you please take another look? I hope the procedure can be completed quickly without delaying the next travelers."
The customs officer took the passport, and with a squeeze, he knew exactly what was inside.
Pretending to open it again, he imdiately caught sight of the green US dollars.
His expression lted like snow in spring, the previously stern bureaucratic facade vanished without a trace, replaced by an extrely satisfied, almost sycophantic smile, and his voice beca lively and enthusiastic.
"Oh! Yes! Yes! Mr. Li Xinan!"
He exclaid loudly, as if he had discovered a new continent, "You see, I made a mistake! The light was a bit dim earlier. Your passport and visa have no issues at all! Absolutely perfect! Welco to the White Elephant Country! Welco to Goa!"
With that, he stamped the entry mark on the passport with a crisp "snap," so quickly it seed as if he feared Song Heping would change his mind and take back the money.
After stamping, he handed the passport back to Song Heping, warmly adding, "Have a great ti in Goa! This is a paradise!"
Song Heping took the passport, chuckling inwardly, yet maintaining a polite smile on his face, "Thank you, sir. Have a great day."
"You too! You too!"
The officer waved with a broad smile, already eager to call out to the next traveler in line, "Next!"
Song Heping pocketed the passport, expressionless, as he quickly walked away from the customs inspection counter area with his suitcase.
A few steps away, the tropical, humid, and sultry air enveloped him again, and he exhaled lightly.
A false alarm indeed.
This damned White Elephant Country, even extortion is carried out so theatrically and clumsily, yet effective.
Thirty dollars, for smooth passage and a low-profile entry, was a tuition fee not too badly spent.
But this disgust, like swallowing a fly, would likely stick around for a while.
Now, he had no ti to dwell on such trifles.
Zayed was still waiting for him sowhere. The true danger was just beginning.
He lowered the brim of his hat, quickly blending into the mixed crowd in the airport arrivals hall.
About ten minutes later, as arranged by Naxin beforehand, he found an international car rental company's counter in the airport parking lot, produced a driver's license and international credit card corresponding to a fake identity, and soon acquired the keys to a white Toyota Fortuner SUV.
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