Chapter 65: Stunned

After a long, exhausting day at work, having been scolded by his boss and knowing he had to work overtime again tomorrow, he’d ridden his bicycle home through a torrential downpour and arrived drenched to the bone. In such a foul mood, he found himself unable to write a single word, overcome by a heavy sense of melancholy.

How could there be Chinese nationals here!

Li Changjiang’s mind suddenly short-circuited. In a flash, like lightning, a cascade of images flickered through his memory—traveling from Benghazi to Tripoli, then from Tripoli back to Benghazi, all the way to the present moment.

Khamis!

He swiftly fixed his suspicions on Khamis. After all, it was he who had assigned this mission. The identities of those two Chinese could only be known to Khamis. But why would he send those two Chinese to Sirte?

Li Changjiang felt a surge of doubt.

Was it simply because they were Chinese nationals?

Suddenly, another image sprang into his mind. A flicker of chestnut brown flashed in his eyes—damn it! The bastard was using Chinese people as bait!

Though Li Changjiang had never made it to university, that didn’t mean he was dull-witted. Quite the opposite: book learning might have required rote effort from him, but when it came to thinking on his feet, he was remarkably agile.

“Chinese!” came a voice not far away, tinged with surprise.

“Damn it, Anderson, why are there Chinese here?”

Li Changjiang heard the US Marine’s astonished voice and was left even more bewildered. Did the Americans not know who these people were?

Anderson was equally perplexed. Could these two be the Chinese whom the Colonel had ordered him to find?

“Shut up!” he barked.

Instantly, the other men fell silent and spread out to secure the perimeter.

Li Changjiang dared not observe too obviously, but he still managed to get a good look at the two Chinese—a man and a woman. The man was older, at least in his fifties, while the woman was young, no more than thirty. Yet both appeared exhausted and disheveled, the man’s face streaked with blood.

A wound on his forehead, likely sustained when their vehicle was blown over, had dried and caked on his cheek. If not for the sharp clarity in their eyes, Li Changjiang might have mistaken them for ordinary civilians.

But to remain so clear-headed amid such chaos, despite their battered state, was clearly beyond the capabilities of ordinary people.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” Anderson demanded.

As the mission commander, Anderson was uncertain whether these were the specific Chinese the Colonel had mentioned, but he was now convinced they were the targets.

“We are Chinese. As for why we’re here—this is not America. I’m afraid your country has no right to question us,” the woman replied coldly in flawless English, her voice carrying across the ten-meter gap.

Li Changjiang was taken aback by how composed—and melodious—her voice sounded. It was hard to imagine anyone maintaining such spine under these circumstances. Her English was so fluent, leagues beyond his own heavily accented attempts.

“You Chinese are always so stubborn,” Anderson sneered.

“Of course. When Chinese civilization was flourishing, your ancestors were still swinging from trees like monkeys.”

Anderson’s gaze grew icy as he stared at the Chinese woman.

“Damn it, Anderson! Anderson!” Suddenly, a Marine came running up from the road, visibly tense.

“What?” Anderson snapped.

With his comms system destroyed earlier, Anderson took the external handset. At the voice on the other end, his expression changed dramatically.

“Major, I order you to withdraw immediately north along Highway 89. There are large numbers of Libyan forces closing in on your left, less than three kilometers away. Evacuate at once! Evacuate now!”

“Damn it!”

“Damn Libyans!”

“Scott, take them! Move out now! Go! Go! Move out! Move out!” Anderson roared.

After a brief commotion, Anderson and several Marines began escorting the two Chinese across to the opposite side of the highway. With almost no ammunition left, they were forced to abandon the bodies of more than a dozen of their fallen comrades.

“Damn it!”

“Anderson, we have to take them back!”

“Damn it!”

“Anderson! Anderson!”

Anderson said nothing. He knew it was impossible to retrieve all the bodies—the Libyans would not allow them time. Yet the thought of leaving his comrades’ corpses to the Libyans filled him with dread about what might come next.

They had no choice.

“Go! Go! We must keep them!”

“Bastards!”

“Those sons of bitches!”

Only after venting in a stream of curses did the Americans turn away to retreat north along the highway. Hearing their voices, Li Changjiang immediately glanced to his left.

The drifting sand clouds in the distance were indeed drawing closer.

“Hey, Elisa, stay here, okay?”

“And you?”

“I have to go after the Americans. I believe those two Chinese know something about my father. Even if there’s only a sliver of hope, I have to seek it. Do you understand?”

“No!” she cried.

Damn it!

Li Changjiang felt a flash of irritation, but quickly calmed himself to try explaining again to Elisa.

This time, it seemed unnecessary.

“I’m coming with you!”

“No, it’ll be dangerous!”

“Staying here is even more dangerous!” she said stubbornly, her head held high, refusing to back down.

Helpless, Li Changjiang looked from the direction of the approaching Libyans to the Americans’ line of retreat, and finally nodded.

Leaving Elisa behind was certainly not the best option.

“Okay, follow me!”

Without waiting for her response or caring about the faint smile curling at the corner of her lips, he leapt from the sandpit and raced after the Americans, Elisa close behind as the pursuing Libyans drew ever nearer.

They ran until the roar of engines echoed in their ears, at which point Li Changjiang pulled Elisa down into a roadside sand pit. Only after the Libyans had thundered past did they resume their pursuit from a distance.

Unbeknownst to Li Changjiang, as he and Elisa emerged from the sand and tailed the Americans, a silver-gray unmanned reconnaissance drone, flying silently more than ten thousand meters above, had already entered the conflict zone. Its ultra-long-range television camera rapidly captured images of the intersection between Highway 89 and Highway 88, transmitting them back to the control center.

In the control room of the Jiangzhou-class Aegis destroyer:

“Report—Rainbow One has sent back a new signal.”

“Oh? Put it up at once. Old Luo, I’m curious to see what the Americans are up to,” said Captain Lu Qian, his face alight with anticipation.

The Americans were always swaggering across the globe; though China had endured patiently, never seeking direct confrontation, there was no harm in giving them a taste of discomfort.

Inside the command center, the central control screen flashed, then displayed a strangely familiar image.

“It seems the earlier footage was genuine. But what are the Americans doing here?” Lu Qian mused.

The feed from Rainbow One confirmed the earlier mysterious transmission, but the current scene was even grimmer. The drone’s camera, with its half-meter resolution, allowed Lu Qian and his old comrade Luo Yaocheng to make out the heaps of American bodies at the end of Highway 88.

Such a sight was rare indeed.

“Old Lu, look!” Luo Yaocheng suddenly shouted, startling Lu Qian.

But when he followed his friend’s pointing finger to the monitor, Lu Qian too was left utterly speechless.