Ultimate Firepower
Chapter 307 - 293: The Room of Death

Chapter 307: Chapter 293: The Room of Death

Gao Yi was completely unable to participate in what came next; he had already done everything within his power.

Khalid called two of his men over to instruct them in hushed tones. Whatever he said remained unknown, but the pair left with solemn expressions, driving over a car. After some discussion, they placed the severely wounded Joelson into the compartment of a small panel van.

Poor Joelson was anesthetized once more, placed into a long crate and covered with a carpet. Ventilation holes were left at the bottom, and more crates were stacked on top of it.

They provided the basic guarantees for Joelson’s life, but they could hardly be said to be taking great care, let alone exhibiting any sort of respect.

Then, the two of them set off in the vehicle.

The driver did not carry a gun, but he had a bomb hidden on his waist that, with one pull, would ensure instant disintegration.

The passenger in the front seat had a handgun hidden on him and a rifle under the seat; he did not carry a bomb because, if they encountered a checkpoint, he might need to get out and open the van doors for the soldiers to inspect. Carrying too much could easily lead to discovery.

The two men left the location where Gao Yi and his companions were hiding and drove towards the port of Tripoli.

Khalid had said that once they arrived there would be someone waiting to meet them. If everything went smoothly, there was no need to return. If things went awry, they were to flee if possible; if not, they were to blow up themselves and the car to smithereens.

Indeed, the drivers encountered checks on the road. No sooner had they reached the intersection of the main road than soldiers, armed to the teeth, were inspecting every car.

Checking the trunk, inspecting every passenger in the car.

Tripoli hadn’t seen such stringent checks in years. The two men were psychologically prepared for their mission, so when the driver pulled the vehicle over, his hand was on the pull ring of the waist bomb, while the front seat passenger got out of the car. As he opened the rear compartment letting the National Army soldiers inspect, he skillfully slipped a stack of banknotes into the hands of one of the soldiers.

Such a cursory check could not withstand scrutiny, but bribery had always been an effective tactic.

The amount of money was small, as too large a sum would lead the inspecting soldiers to suspect a problem with the car. So, the amount was controlled to seem like a reasonable price for a speedy passage.

The soldiers glanced through without moving each crate to look closely.

The small van continued on its way, passing through the same type of checkpoints four times, each requiring a new inspection.

The National Army soldiers were indeed much more meticulous than before, but luckily, no one discovered Joelson hidden in the crate.

Until the port.

There were many ships in the port of Tripoli, big and small, and their task was to reach the nearby dock and wait next to the container stacking area.

After dropping off there, the rest was no longer their concern; someone would make contact to take the person away.

Upon reaching their destination, they had just parked when a man in a port security uniform approached, gesturing for them to leave.

The driver stayed in the vehicle without moving, and the front seat passenger hesitated for a moment before getting out of the car with his handgun.

They couldn’t leave; this was the designated meeting point. How would they hand over if they left?

There was only one security guard, unarmed, and most importantly, alone.

They had just dealt with so many security checks, facing only one guard now, there was no need to be nervous.

The front seat passenger approached the guard, baffled, "We’ve always been able to park here, why not now? We are here to deliver goods; our bulk goods are to be containerized and shipped."

The guard bore the face of a local as he said to the front seat passenger, "I don’t recognize you, and this area is off-limits to vehicles, you..."

While gesticulating arrogantly, the guard suddenly grabbed the front seat passenger’s arm. Like magic, a handgun materialized in his hand, and with a swift motion, the rather unflustered driver was shot in the bridge of his nose, slumping back into the seat without even a grunt.

One shot. The bullet hit the bridge of the nose, piercing through to the brainstem, killing instantly. Even though his hand was on the bomb’s pull ring, there was no chance to detonate it.

The front-seat passenger was shocked. As he struggled to break free, his other hand reached for his gun, but the shooting guard swung the pistol, hitting the passenger’s head hard with the butt of the gun and knocking him unconscious.

That was the full extent of the encounter for the two men.

After the guard acted swiftly, he waited a few tense seconds. Then, with a grave expression, he approached the driver’s side of the small van, peered inside for a good while, and gingerly felt around before slowly opening the door. Only when he noticed the driver’s finger hooked on a rather inconspicuous iron ring, now too weak to pull, did he finally say, "There’s a bomb, confirmed."

He holstered his handgun at the small of his back, then with extreme caution held onto the iron ring with one hand and the driver’s fingers with the other, ensuring the driver’s hand was completely clear of the pull ring. Pulling a folding knife from his pocket, he opened it and slowly cut open the driver’s clothes, exposing the pull cord and the hidden waist pack. Finally, he stated, "Instant detonator, no electronic trigger, no remote explosive device, danger eliminated."

A group from their hiding place rapidly approached, numbering less than ten.

These people rushed towards the small van, temporarily ignoring the deceased driver.

Opening the van doors, they checked and tossed out all the crates inside until they freed the one at the very bottom. As soon as the blanket on top was lifted, someone called out urgently, "Boss, there’s someone!"

A middle-aged man in his forties climbed into the carriage. He shone a flashlight at Joelson inside the box, pondered for a moment, and waved his hand, "Take him down and bring him to the boss."

Someone nearby whispered, "Boss, should we check the people who are supposed to meet us?"

"There’s no need; we’ve already been exposed. No one will show up now."

After speaking, the man glanced at the unconscious co-pilot and confidently said, "He’s the one with the real value. Take him immediately for interrogation."

Joelson wasn’t taken to a hospital; he was taken to Tripoli Airport.

After a checkup confirmed there was no danger to his life and that the unconsciousness was due to anesthetic effects, a doctor injected Joelson with a drug that would help him wake up quickly.

Then Joelson came to.

When Joelson awoke, all he saw was a middle-aged man in his forties.

"Hello, Joelson."

Disoriented and helpless, it took a while for Joelson’s eyes to focus; then, with a start, he exclaimed, "I’m not dead? That’s great!"

His first words after regaining consciousness revealed a heartfelt joy for survival.

Every time he passed out, he was prepared never to wake up, so naturally, it was a relief to be conscious again.

The man sitting across from Joelson watched the changes in his complexion closely. He believed that a person couldn’t maintain a falsified expression or hide their instinctive physiological reactions when they were just waking up.

Joelson looked at the middle-aged man and asked in confusion, "Who are you, and where am I?"

"I am Burning Wind. This is the airport. We’ve just rescued you from the hands of terrorists. You’re safe now, Joelson. You won’t die. We’ll get you on a flight home soon, but first, I need you to answer a few questions."

Burning Wind. Joelson had never heard of him and looked at the middle-aged man quietly saying, "Okay."

"What happened to you?"

"I... I don’t know."

Joelson spoke with resignation in his voice, "You’re with Freedom Wind. I’ve never heard of Burning Wind, but I know of Freedom Wind. I’m aware of your existence and that each of you is formidable. I can’t possibly hide any secrets from you, so I’ll be honest; I really don’t know what happened."

"Headquarters has information that suggests you accused Henry of defection and betrayal. Is that true?"

Joelson fell silent for a moment before letting out a deep sigh, "I was talking nonsense. I had absolutely no evidence. It’s not correct to say I accused him. That statement was just to cover my mistake. There was no time to concoct a complete lie, so I said it was Henry’s doing to protect myself. However, I’m puzzled. I was given a straightforward task. If there was no mole, my mission shouldn’t have failed."

Burning Wind was very pleased with Joelson’s candor, but his face remained expressionless as he calmly said, "That means you might face a long internal investigation when you return."

"Yes."

"Alright, no more questions."

Joelson was stunned and then baffled, "That’s all you’re asking?"

"It’s enough. Of course, I have other questions, but I feel you wouldn’t have the answers, such as who performed surgery on you, where you were supposed to be taken, where you’ve come from."

Joelson replied, feeling ashamed, "Sorry, I really don’t know."

And Joelson truly didn’t know.

Burning Wind smiled, "Then there’s nothing more to ask. We have a plane departing in thirty minutes back to headquarters. You’re alright now. Good luck."

Burning Wind even stepped forward to shake Joelson’s hand, then walked out of Joelson’s room and into the next one.

Locked up next door was the captured co-pilot, but Burning Wind didn’t go straight to see the co-pilot in the restroom; he started conversing with the subordinates waiting outside.

"How is it going?"

"It’s the same; he knows nothing. Truly nothing. We can confirm his departure location, but not who he was supposed to meet or how. Their handover method was too simplistic; it ended as soon as they delivered the person."

Burning Wind nodded, "That’s how it should be. If he knew too much, that would be incorrect."

After saying that, Burning Wind picked up a walkie-talkie and spoke softly, "Boss, everything is normal. All aspects fit your judgment. I’m now convinced this wasn’t bait willingly thrown to us by our opponents. Judging by the bomb’s detonation method and power, Joelson truly was rescued by us. The only question left is who was waiting to receive Joelson."

A voice came through the walkie-talkie, "Don’t worry about it. Now that we know their departure point, go take a look. Although it’s late, our enemies are not that meticulous. Go search; you might still find some clues."