"Have you morized the layout of the airport building?"
ters away from Laird Airport, in a barren field, a burgundy Toyota MPV.
Inside the car, a soldier in desert camouflage with a black hood asked with a distinct Arican accent. Behind him sat five black soldiers in identical uniforms.
"All morized!"
Four of them answered in unison.
Only the bald, tattooed man with a red-patterned scarf didn’t respond with the others. Instead, with a hint of madness and greed, he asked, "Assarilla, Cohen, can the six of us really wipe out this airport in twenty minutes?"
His English accent was noticeably less fluent than the others.
"Don’t worry, before we set off, Brian had already sent all the airport data, including security and troop distribution. Unlike Babole, Laird Airport doesn’t have governnt armored vehicles stationed permanently. It only has one terminal building, divided into two levels. On each level, there’s a Federal police station on the south side of the check-in area, with six officers on duty equipped with Xia Kingdom’s Type 56 assault rifles and Type 82 grenades for light firepower. The airport security personnel sums up to about 20 individuals, only equipped with stun batons, and we’ve arranged an inside contact."
Before Cohen finished speaking, the gap-toothed black man in the rear seat mockingly interjected:
"Those Federal police are all incompetent fools. In the face of danger, they’ll only make a ss, hahaha."
"Yeah, if you don’t trust us, don’t you trust the na of PM Company? Cohen is the ace in our circle!"
The mole-faced black man grinned in agreent.
Cohen didn’t join in the boasting. After a pause, he continued, "We’ll adopt a 4 1 1 formation for the attack. Elias, you’re in charge of the first position for a strong assault."
"No problem."
The gap-toothed black man shook his black M870 pump-action shotgun in his hand.
"According to the principle of ’surprise,’ we prioritize taking out the six Federal guards at the airport, expecting to secure the first level in 90 seconds. Theodore, you’ll remain on the first level for cleanup, leaving no one behind and keeping watch outside the airport."
"Yes."
The black man with thick lips nodded from the back seat.
"Hank, after attacking the second level, you’ll stay on the stands, keeping an eye on the first and second level atriums, ready to support Theodore and us anyti."
"Of course, Cohen."
The mole-faced black man grinned, revealing his bright white teeth.
"The rest will continue the assault with . The second level is our main target. The attack challenge lies in the security screening room — double-sided wall, narrow passage. We don’t have high-explosives to break walls, so to minimize risks, we’ll need to eliminate a few more Federal officers in advance. The entire process is estimated at 16 minutes, leaving 15 minutes for errors, interrogating the target, and retreat!"
"Kerry, don’t forget to et us near the second-level fire escape stairs, then escape in the northeast direction. The governnt choppers will approach from the southwest."
The black driver beside him lightly pounded his chest twice with his fist, indicating he’d already morized everything.
Cohen nodded reassuringly. These people were carefully picked by him, having worked together on various tasks before, at least knowing each other well.
As long as the intelligence is correct, there shouldn’t be any issues.
"Lastly, I’ll reiterate the action points:"
"1. Speak more in Amharic, cover any tattoos that might reveal identities;"
"2. Leave no survivors on the first level of the airport;"
"3. The target is an Asian, yellow skin, long black hair, be sure to retrieve the photos he took;"
"4. Sam is wearing a burgundy hoodie, avoid mistakenly killing him, understood?"
This ti, the people in the car finally responded in unison:
"Understood!"
"The governnt troops will arrive 38 minutes after the attack begins. We need to reserve 3 minutes to avoid the helicopter’s scouting range, so we only have 35 minutes. The operation is expected to kick off in 75 seconds, synchronize your watches now."
As soon as Cohen finished speaking, everyone swiftly raised their wrists, setting a countdown tir of 36 minutes and 15 seconds on their digital watches, simultaneously taking out a red bandana from their pockets identical to the one worn by the bald, tattooed black man and tying it around their necks.
Laird International Airport, first-floor lobby.
"There’s been a new developnt in the Amu Tribe incident. It’s reported that the governnt disclosed it might be related to ethnic conflict perpetrated by ard militants. This is one of the country’s recent events..."
Outside the office, news about the "Amu Tribe attack incident" was being broadcast.
Inside, the black female supervisor was secretly chuckling. Judging by the anxious look of this Asian man, he must be in a rush for his flight. If I delay him for a bit here, I bet he won’t resist paying up!
I just don’t know if he’s from Xia Kingdom, Japan, or South Korea?
Preferably a Xia Kingdom national, I’ve heard they’re the wealthiest, heh...
Seeing the bun-haired man not responding, the female supervisor had to speak again, "Sir, sir? Please cooperate and open your back..."
As she reminded him once more, the bun-haired man’s body suddenly shivered, his spine straightened, and his previously anxious eyes beca extrely calm.
Not waiting for the female supervisor to finish speaking, he preemptively opened his backpack.
Took out a phone.
Took out a cara.
Took photos.
Both hands moved simultaneously, rapidly, with no excess motion, as precise as a robot.
The security personnel were slightly taken aback.
This Asian man seed to have suddenly beco a different person; his deanor and actions were completely different from before. However, the female supervisor didn’t think much of it. After all, since the cara had been taken out, things were much easier, "Since you..."
Bang.
The bun-haired man removed the mory card from the cara, casually threw the cara onto the table like trash, and darted through the narrow gap between the two black security guards, running out of the office.
"What... what’s going on?"
The female supervisor had never encountered such a traveler. She recognized the cara on the table as the famous Leica Q2, worth more than thirty thousand Bill — her two years’ salary. Just threw it aside like that?
First-floor lobby of the airport.
The bun-haired man’s gaze was cold and straight as he quickened his pace, completely out of sync with the surrounding chaos.
He seed to have foresight, not moving his sight an inch while automatically dodging the black traveler charging from the side, heading to the wall, casually punching, and smashing the red fire alarm bell, then continued forward without pause.
"Ring ring ring..."
In an instant, the piercing fire alarm blared from every speaker inside and outside the terminal, ringing loudly.
The bun-haired man was completely unaffected, continuing straight ahead, until he collided with a restaurant’s dirty dishes trolley.
"Ah, sorry, custor, I was distracted just now, very sorry!"
The black staff pushing the trolley quickly bowed and apologized. But the other person didn’t even glance back, turning and briskly running up the airport’s escalator.
In his hand, evidently, there was a flash of silver!
ters outside the airport, barren land.
"60 seconds... Kerry, prepare to start with 20 seconds remaining..."
"Ring ring ring..."
The sudden ringing alarm from the terminal interrupted Cohen, who was issuing orders.
"What’s going on? Did the airport discover us?"
"No way! From when we tracked that guy’s movents to planning, it only took three hours. How could the airport know? Could it be Ethiopia’s Intelligence Bureau intercepted our information in advance?"
The gap-toothed black man Elias frowned.
"Allah, then let’s rush in now and kill them all!"
The bald, tattooed black man’s eyes glowed with a hint of madness.
"Don’t rush. Let ask Sam first."
Cohen pulled out a black phone from his pocket, extended an antenna, and after going through iris, fingerprint, and password triple decryption, dialed a number.
After connecting, "Sam, Cohen, what’s happening at the airport?"
On the other end of the line.
Laird Airport, second floor, dostic entrance check-in area.
A young Caucasian man, dressed in a maroon hoodie, with black curly hair, glasses, and a nerdy look, was on the phone.
He first turned to observe the position of the Federal police station and security personnel, then spoke up, "I don’t know either, the Federal officers..."
As he ntioned the last word, a blond old lady beside him glanced up at him.
Sam imdiately stopped speaking, got up, and quietly headed to the bathroom, "The Federal officers are not moving, security personnel are just maintaining order, it should be a false alarm..."
While he was engrossed in discussing with Cohen in the restroom.
Outside the bathroom, a faint yellow figure quietly entered.
Yellow skin, black and white beard.
Bun hair!!
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