Song Heping climbed out of the hotel's second-floor window and then jumped down to the first-floor balcony. After checking his surroundings, he didn't spot anyone chasing him.
This side of the hotel was not the main entrance; he guessed that his pursuers were probably searching for him in the lobby or the underground parking garage.
If not now, when?
The balcony was only about four or five ters above the ground. Song Heping leaped and landed firmly on the grass, got up, dusted off his hands, and ran towards the back exit of the hotel.
Soon, he passed through the rear door into the street, looked back at the hotel, figured out the general direction, and moved briskly along the wall on the right side of the street known as Nafa Road.
Not far along, an SUV appeared behind him.
Song Heping imdiately beca alert and reached for the pockets of his cargo pants. In the right pocket was a Glock 17 he had taken from Blondie, and in the left pocket were three magazines.
Song Heping hadn't found any identity-proving clues on Blondie, but he felt that this man was neither from the Eritrean military nor from the intelligence departnt.
After ruling out various possibilities, he concluded that this man was an assassin.
In Africa, it is quite easy to find an assassin.
It's just a matter of different prices and qualities.
From the mont they encountered each other in the elevator, Song Heping had sensed the murderous intent on him.
Even if Blondie acted very hip-hop, his hands betrayed his identity.
There was an obvious thick callus on the heel of his hand and on his index finger as well.
It ant this guy had handled guns for a long ti.
Even the soldiers in regular African armies wouldn't have such thick calluses.
That ant that the one sent to deal with him was no ordinary killer.
He was a professional expert.
Only soone serious would hire such a killer to target him.
The cream-colored Toyota SUV drove past and suddenly stopped beside Song Heping; almost at the sa ti, Song Heping swiftly drew his gun on the person in the vehicle.
"Song! Don't shoot! It's Jimado!"
Song Heping saw the person in the car and recognized it was indeed his contact.
They had both seen photos of each other, so there was no mistake.
Jimado pushed the car door open and called out, "Get in!"
Song Heping didn't hesitate, lunging into the vehicle.
After closing the door, the Toyota SUV imdiately accelerated and quickly disappeared at the end of the long street.
Just as Song Heping was jumping out of a window on the north side of the hotel from the second floor, Remondo, who had obtained the highest action authority, was monitoring a laptop screen in the hotel.
The screen showed imagery from a French spy satellite.
To track Song Heping, Bar had given Remondo top clearance.
As the head of the largest intelligence station in North Africa, Bar had the authority to request the use of spy satellites from the Ministry of Defense.
In North Africa, France was continually using spy satellites to surveil countries in the Sahel Zone.
Eritrea was also within the surveillance range, so they quickly obtained imagery.
The technicians at the Ministry of Defense Space Forces Control Center quickly adjusted the satellite's orientation to focus its high-resolution lens near the hotel and soon gathered a significant amount of imagery and pictures.
SIR, co take a look!"
An intelligence officer in front of the computer excitedly called out as he pointed at an image.
Remondo stepped forward and looked closely at the screen.
The subordinate highlighted a dark figure in the cara lens.
"This is a set of images captured one minute ago on the north side of the hotel..."
He pressed the play button.
The footage played normally.
It captured the entire process of Song Heping jumping out of the window, crossing the hotel's back garden, and entering Nafa Street through the back door.
"Where is he now?"
"Let check..."
Soon, by retrieving footage from different angles, they finally saw Song Heping getting into a Toyota off-road vehicle.
"Zoom in, see if you can see the license plate."
Remondo identified it based on the vehicle's silhouette and style, roughly figuring it was an older model Toyota LC76.
In North Africa, these vehicles were common.
Mostly used for transporting tourists, many hotels also offered this model for high-end clients to rent. Many people coming to Africa for exploration or surveys would rent this kind of car; it was very suitable for the local terrain and conditions.
The intelligence officer began to search fra by fra for the best angle to view the LC76's rear license plate.
Finally, when the video footage was nearly exhausted, the intelligence officer pressed the pause button.
The angle of the image was just right to see the license plate through the gap between two trees.
"ER.1A917..."
He murmured several tis, and after magnifying the image to its maximum, causing the pixels to blur, the intelligence officer finally gave up.
"Blocked by trees, can't see the last digit..."
"Becker, take down this number. We have soone at the Asmara Vehicle Departnt. Send it to him, and have him check which of the vehicles from 0-9 is an LC76; this way, we could quickly lock down their identity."
"Of course, officer!"
The intelligence agent imdiately noted down the numbers, then stood up to contact the intelligence departnt's local insider.
Generally, when all intelligence departnts infiltrate a country, they bribe so local officials to assist in obtaining critical local information when needed.
After all, it's the DGSE, and Becker had quickly hung up the phone and returned to Remondo's side.
"I found it. Out of these last '0-9' digits, only '3' corresponds to LC76; this vehicle belongs to the Jade Hotel, and it's rented out to its guests. According to the hotel's rental information, a guest nad Jimado who just checked in yesterday is renting it. The room number is 4112."
Having obtained the information, Remondo imdiately picked up the radio transceiver and through the channel notified the remaining five assassins.
"They are probably on their way to the Jade Hotel now. You need to reach the Jade Hotel as soon as possible and then keep watch on Room 4112. If Song Heping shows up, take them out right away! I don't care by what ans, you must turn him into a corpse tonight!"
"No problem!"
The leader of the five-man assassin team, Sando, imdiately responded.
"Leave it to us, just make sure the paynt is ready and don't default on the final amount."
"Sando, are you bargaining with ?"
Hearing that Remondo seed displeased, Sando dared not talk back, quickly saying, "We're heading there now. If we hurry, we might get there before they reach the Jade Hotel."
Twenty minutes later, in the parking lot of the Jade Hotel, the LC76 SUV slowly drove in, circled half the lot, and found a parking spot where Jimado parked.
"Let's go upstairs and talk." Jimado had parked the car, turned off the engine, and was about to open the door when he was stopped.
Song Heping stopped him saying, "Wait."
Jimado paused, turned his head to Song Heping and said, "You've been targeted. We will arrange for you to leave Eritrea tonight. You'll enter Sudan by land, and then our military will escort you to Mali."
Song Heping said, "You go ahead to the room, tell the room number, and I'll enter from the underground parking lot. It's too conspicuous to go through the lobby, and I don't know if there are also their spies in the hotel."
"Room 4112," Jimado said, spreading his hands. "Then I'll go up first, and you can find later."
"Alright."
Song Heping got out from the other side, looked around, then headed toward the main building from the parking lot.
He chose to walk in concealed places, and fortunately, the Jade Hotel's surrounding vegetation and landscaping were well maintained, full of ornantal trees that provided good cover.
He circled to the back of the hotel, not far from a large swimming pool.
Eritrea might be impoverished, but even poor places have their wealthy citizens.
By the poolside, bikini-clad beauties, European tourists, and local tycoons were frolicking and having a blast.
Song Heping walked quickly, head down, and soon reached the entrance to the underground parking lot.
Since the hotel was large and there were enough parking spaces on the surface lot, and today there weren't many guests, the underground parking on Level -1 seed sowhat quiet.
He quickly found the elevator entrance, pressed the up button, and stood waiting at the door.
For so reason, Song Heping continuously felt unsafe.
He always had the feeling that things were not that simple.
The people out to kill him tonight were significant, and they definitely wouldn't give up so easily.
Ding—
The elevator finally reached Level -1, and after a beep, the doors slowly opened...
The elevator was empty, nobody was inside.
Song Heping silently sighed in relief, loosening his grip on the gun that he had already grabbed inside his pocket.
He stepped into the elevator and then pressed the button for the 4th floor.
Just as the elevator doors were about to close, Song Heping suddenly pressed the door open button.
He kept pressing it, standing still, deep in thought for a while.
He stepped out of the elevator and before leaving, pressed the door close button.
Watching the elevator ascend, Song Heping turned and entered the fire escape, taking the stairs up to the 4th floor.
This was almost instinct.
The instinct felt like a voice swirling in his mind, continuously reminding him not to take the elevator.
The hotel's fire escape was eerily empty, the lighting very dim.
Since regular guests wouldn't use this route, it was exceptionally quiet.
Walking slowly up the stairs, Song Heping always maintained a silent, stealthy deanor, which had beco a habit for him.
The 3rd floor ca quickly.
He didn't encounter anyone.
Just as Song Heping was about to head up to the fourth floor, suddenly he stopped on the stairs.
A long shadow was cast on the stairs between the 3rd and 4th floor, indicating that just around the corner, the person would be visible.
That person, judging by the shadow's position, was right across from the 4th-floor elevator, behind the door to the fire escape.
Song Heping's heart raced, his nerves tensed, dopamine furiously secreted, and he entered combat mode.
He carefully drew the Glock 17 fitted with a silencer from his pocket.
Indeed, a good gun.
Cos with a silencer too.
Song Heping couldn't help but give a thumbs up to the organizers of tonight's pursuit.
He slowly walked up, passed the staircase corner, and saw the person standing behind the fire door through the iron railing of the staircase handrail.
User Comments
0 comments from readers