The bomb's fuse sizzled in the dark, spewing dark red sparks, like a viper flicking its tongue.
Song Heping and Jiang Feng rushed up to the third-floor platform in a few quick steps, their backs just touching the wall when the explosion below tore the air apart.
The entire building shook violently, with dust falling from the ceiling.
The blast wave from the explosion blew the fire escape door off its hinges, slamming it heavily against the wall across the corridor.
Thick dust surged out from the third-floor exit along the hallway, and even though they hid behind the corridor wall, the two could still feel the imnse impact, feeling their chests tighten and seeing stars in front of their eyes.
"The stairs are broken!"
Jiang Feng peeked for a quick look.
Two load-bearing pillars were precisely destroyed, and the stairs between the third and second floors appeared as if a giant beast had taken a bite, exposing ghastly steel bar cross-sections.
Several guards in the lead were lifted by the shockwave, flying straight out from the corridor window, their screams drowned in the reverberating explosions.
"There's a bit too much explosive..."
Song Heping's eardrums humd, and he shook his head violently to clear his mind.
"To the broadcast room! The speech is in three minutes!"
The two bent down and ran, as bullets suddenly whizzed in from outside the window.
The guards downstairs, unable to get to the third floor, stood on the ground below, shooting blindly at the third-floor windows.
When they barged into the broadcast room, Ferrari was using the butt of a gun to knock out a struggling staff mber.
The red indicator light on the broadcast equipnt was still on, and Du Er's steady voice was being transmitted nationwide through the airwaves—
"...The Noel regi has lost its legitimacy, now I am declaring to everyone on the national radio..."
Abdul, sweating profusely, stood by the satellite phone and quickly reported as they entered, "I have good news and bad news!"
Song Heping got straight to the point, "Let's hear the good news first."
Abdul said, "Lumar reports that the eastern line forces have broken through the first line of defense! It seems the broadcast had so effect, captured enemy officers at the front say their superiors ordered them to hold their ground but then took off themselves..."
Song Heping pursued, "What's the bad news?"
Abdul swallowed hard and said gravely, "Our informant within the governnt army reports that a company of the Presidential Guard is moving towards the radio station!"
Song Heping glanced at his watch—thirty seconds remaining.
He pressed the radio communication button, "Collins, report your situation!"
Crackling electrical noise and labored breathing ca through the headset, "The elevator shaft is cleared... I'm in the parking lot... discovered four ard pickups entering from the south gate; they seem to be blocking the exit..."
"Damn it!"
Song Heping slamd his fist on the control panel.
The original plan was to make a disguised retreat from the underground parking lot, but now their escape route was being cut off.
He quickly scanned the room, his gaze falling on the ventilation duct in the ceiling—too narrow; then he turned to the window—jumping down from the third floor was risky and dangerous, plus there were many ard guards below.
"What do we do?" Sweat dripped from Abdul's nose, his voice slightly trembling.
It seed that this young opposition officer was beginning to waver.
After all, he was well aware of the fate that awaited him in the hands of the Presidential Guard.
Whether the coup succeeded or not, he was bound to end up a martyr.
The broadcasting equipnt beeped suddenly, and Collins' voice exploded from the walkie-talkie, "There are at least twenty of them; I see them establishing a checkpoint at the parking lot exit, boss, what now?! How do we get out?!"
In fact, Collins should be the most nervous of everyone.
He was at the forefront, having lowered the elevator to the fourth floor and then slid down the cables to the underground parking lot.
According to the plan, they were supposed to take a car and leave from the underground parking lot.
But now, it seed almost impossible to leave.
Almost simultaneously, a burst of gunfire erupted from the south side of the building.
Song Heping lunged toward the window, peering through the gap in the curtains to see four pickups mounted with heavy machine guns crushing the garden fence, the truck beds filled with Presidential Guards wearing red berets.
These elite soldiers were not as easy to deal with as ordinary guards.
"Stick to the original plan, exit through the underground parking lot."
Song Heping's voice was like steel tempered in fire, exceptionally resolute.
"We'll go down through the elevator shaft. Ferrari, plant the bomb to destroy the equipnt once the speech is over."
Amid the tension of the onlookers, Song Heping tore down the curtains and started ripping them into strips: "Jiang Feng, prepare the rappel anchor point; Abdul, keep in contact with Lumar to get the latest from the front line."
Du Er's speech was now reaching its conclusion—
"...The Senan people will eventually gain freedom; from now on, everyone oppressed by the Noel regi, rise up, take the weapons in your hands, even if it's just a machete, and settle scores with the lackeys of the corrupt forr regi..."
Listening to these highly provocative words, Song Heping sneered internally; Du Er was indeed a master at political manipulation.
As the final words were spoken, Ferrari stepped forward, pulling the safety pin from an aluminum thermite incendiary and stuffing it into the recording equipnt.
Soon, with a muffled thud, brilliant white sparks burst from the equipnt gaps.
The blistering white fla quickly began to consu the equipnt worth millions of US Dollars, ensuring no one could use it again for broadcasting.
This was all planned in advance, even if they left the station, the Presidential Guard taking back control couldn't issue a retraction broadcast again.
This effectively cut off any possibility of retreat.
"Found the docunts, this woman is a deputy director."
"Go! To the elevator."
Song Heping walked out without turning his head.
"Wait!"
Abdul stopped.
"What about these people?"
He pointed at the radio staff trapped on the ground.
Song Heping paused for a mont, then understood his aning.
"What do you intend to do?"
"Kill them all."
With that, Abdul drew a pistol, going up to each one to end their lives with a point-blank shot.
Ferrari cursed quietly from the side: "FUCK!"
No one stepped forward to stop him.
Because Abdul wasn't wrong.
If they left, and the Presidential Guard ca, they would learn from their survivors who exactly attacked them.
Then, if they hadn't escaped yet, they would be surrounded and attacked.
The dead don't speak.
Only secrets known to the dead are the safest secrets.
After clearing the scene, they reached the elevator.
The elevator door was pried open with an axe, and the dark shaft resembled a monster's esophagus.
Jiang Feng secured the curtain-twisted rope on a steel beam, sliding down first.
Song Heping stayed at the rear, before jumping into the shaft, he looked down the fire escape.
As expected, there were governnt soldiers setting up a ladder, attempting to climb up to the third floor with a wooden ladder.
Song Heping pulled out a grenade and threw it towards the hallway corner.
Amidst the violent explosion, he heard at least three people screaming as they fell off the ladder.
After doing all this, he quickly returned to the elevator shaft.
Descending vertically fifteen ters, the curtain fabric in Song Heping's hands generated a slight burnt sll from the friction.
A few seconds later, he reached the underground parking lot.
Jiang Feng, Ferrari, and Abdul were already waiting at the elevator entrance.
"Boss."
Collins erged from the darkness in the front.
"You're all here? They've blocked the exit; how do we get out?"
"BBC credentials."
Song Heping said: "Rember, we're British journalists here to report on the Senan situation; because we heard explosions earlier, we've been hiding in the car and dared not co out. Now that we see the governnt soldiers, we're planning to leave this damn place."
He pointed with a finger, emphasizing: "Rember this story. If they try to stop us, leave it to to handle, and none of you say a word!"
"OK!"
Everyone imdiately made an OK gesture.
The ergency lights in the underground parking flickered, and the echoing sound of boots hitting the ground ca from afar.
It appeared soldiers had begun entering the parking lot to search.
There was no ti left.
Song Heping put on plain glasses and said to the others: "Maintain formation, Ferrari goes in front."
He adjusted the glasses on his nose, "From now on, we're BBC reporters, genuine ones, understood?"
Everyone nodded.
They ford into a standard dia team queue towards the exit—Collins with the "cara" as the "caraman," Jiang Feng with the "boom mic" as the "sound engineer," Abdul in an ill-fitting floral shirt as the "local guide," and Ferrari with a press card hanging.
Song Heping walked last, with a Glock pistol ready for action concealed inside his photo vest.
If any accident happens, they would have to blast their way out!
They hadn't gone far when suddenly, three ard guards erged from the darkness.
"Stop!" The leading sergeant barked loudly.
Ferrari imdiately held up his work ID, shouting in heavily accented English: "Don't shoot! We're with the BBC!"
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