Chapter 72: The Outbreak of War

“Nicholas Svorovich?”
The Gryphon Lion Mercenary Group!
That Russian!
Li Changjiang quickly realized why the name sounded so familiar—Louis had mentioned it to him back in Benghazi.
“How’s Lucia?”
Li Changjiang kept his voice low, asking in his awkward English.
“What?”
Nicholas the Russian clearly hadn’t understood.
Li Changjiang had no choice but to repeat himself, yet Nicholas only shook his head. One glance told Li Changjiang that the man wasn’t confused—he was feigning ignorance.
Clearly, his guard was up!
“Lucia. Lucia? Louis. Is she all right?”
This time, the name sent a jolt through the Russian. He couldn’t hide his reaction; his hand shot up to clamp down heavily on Li Changjiang’s shoulder, his voice dropping to a threatening whisper.
“Damn it! Who are you? If you say a single false word, you know what happens.”
A hard object pressed into Li Changjiang’s waist—no doubt a gun.
As expected!
Seeing the sudden wariness on Nicholas’s face, Li Changjiang was sure of his identity.
Nicholas Svorovich, the Russian in the Gryphon Lion Mercenary Group—assuming the group hadn’t disbanded. Li Changjiang wasn’t sure whether Williams and the others had chosen to remain in Libya.
Louis’s death in Libya had been a tremendous blow to them. The French name Li Changjiang had just mentioned—Lucia Louis—was none other than Louis’s daughter.
Nicholas’s trip to Europe now made sense; one of his tasks was to deliver some money to France for Louis. Mercenaries weren’t always solitary men.
With a quick glance at the Libyan responsible for order, the two slipped away from the crowd into an empty tent. Inside, Nicholas immediately leveled his gun at Li Changjiang, his face grave.
“Damn it! Who are you? Who the hell are you? How do you know Lucia’s name?”
Li Changjiang said nothing. He showed his empty hands, then reached into his collar and removed a pendant from around his neck—a cross medal, polished bright from wear. If one looked closely, Louis’s name was carved into it. It was the only memento left of Louis.
Nicholas took it from Li Changjiang’s hand.
“This belonged to Louis. Why do you have it?”
“Li Changjiang. From Huaxia. You can call me Li.”
He suddenly extended his hand.
Nicholas, half dubious, shook it.
“I know you’re with the Gryphon Lion Mercenaries, and I know why you went to Europe. But now, tell me—why are you in Misurata, not Europe or damned Tripoli?”
Nicholas was momentarily dumbfounded by Li Changjiang’s words.

A Huaxian?
Damn it!
How could a Huaxian be mixed up with the Gryphon Lion group?
He wanted to doubt, but this man knew about the group, knew William and Louis—good God!
“Can you prove what you’ve said is true?”
Li Changjiang offered a bitter smile.
This guy really was stubborn—hadn’t he been clear enough?
“No, apart from this, I can’t offer more proof. But I want you to know—Louis is dead!”
“What?”
Nicholas’s composure faltered.
“Are you telling me this is a movie? If so, sorry, I need to earn my commission. I don’t have time to waste with a Huaxian.”
Bastard!
“Louis is dead—killed by Caesar’s men. I took out his murderer, but Barty Sanchez and Kacher Levins are still in Libya. And besides Caesar’s men, the rebel commander here is also responsible. Don’t believe me? Ask William when you see him.”
Nicholas turned to leave the tent, but Li Changjiang didn’t stop him—he only spoke a single sentence.
Sure enough, Nicholas turned back.
He stared at Li Changjiang, face twisted in a grimace.
“Who told you all this?”
“From my own eyes. Louis was shot less than a meter from me.”
Damn!
Bastard!
Damn Libyans!
Barty! Bastard!
Having confirmed Li Changjiang’s account, Nicholas grew agitated, the veins bulging beneath the khaki sleeve of his arm.
When he finally calmed, he handed the silver chain back to Li Changjiang.
“If Louis gave this to you, keep it well.”
Li Changjiang took it, puzzled, and hung it back around his neck.
“What are you doing here?”
“Looking for someone. And you?”
“I’m also searching for someone.”

Their odd exchange eased the tension, though Li Changjiang could still sense Nicholas’s vigilance.
No wonder he’d survived so long as a mercenary—such caution was crucial.
“If you’re looking for two Huaxians, then you’re in the right place. But your timing is off.”
“What? You’ve seen them?”
Nicholas’s words made Li Changjiang tense.
One of his tasks in Misurata was to find those two Huaxians. According to his judgment, they might know the whereabouts of his father, Li Lin.
Li Changjiang had already confirmed there were no Huaxians in Benghazi or Tripoli, except for some information that bastard Khamis might be hiding.
The two he sought could be at the heart of Khamis’s secrets. Li Changjiang believed they either knew what Khamis was hiding—or were themselves the hidden Huaxians.
“They were just brought back by the Libyans. But I’ll tell you now, alone, you’ll never get near them.”
Nicholas spoke with certainty.
Li Changjiang hesitated.
In that moment, a disturbance erupted outside.
Bang! Bang!
“Shut up, all of you! Damn it!”
Bang!
A shot rang out, but before Li Changjiang and Nicholas could leave the tent—
A deafening explosion tore through the camp.
“Move! Government troops!”
Nicholas darted out, Li Changjiang at his heels. The camp was chaos, gunfire everywhere.
“You—”
Nicholas and Li Changjiang looked at each other.
“Follow me. I know where they’re being held!”
With that, Nicholas charged toward the east side of the camp. Li Changjiang didn’t hesitate, sprinting after him.
Behind them—
A stray bullet ripped clean through a wooden post at their side.