Chapter 991: Trip to Africa

He Yuzhu was invited to the First Reception House. Just as he arrived at the main gate, he saw Bureau Chief Zhang already waiting there.

He Yuzhu was taken aback, then grinned and teased half-jokingly: "Bureau Chief Zhang, we've only been apart for a few days, haven't we? You miss me already?"

Bureau Chief Zhang glared at him and said with a straight face: "Factory Director He, it's not that I miss you this time; it's that the higher-ups have assigned you another urgent task."

Upon hearing this, He Yuzhu's brows immediately furrowed: "Bureau Chief Zhang, I said it in front of my whole family—I'm retired. Do you know what retirement means? It means I'm done, I'm not taking any more jobs, and I'm spending my days at home drinking tea, walking my birds, and tending to flowers."

Bureau Chief Zhang rubbed his hands together and said with a fawning smile: "Factory Director He, you really can't rest this time. This is an emergency, an emergency that's burning our eyebrows."

"What is it?"

"Have you ever heard of a place called Somalia?"

He Yuzhu nodded: "I know it. Isn't that the place famous for pirates?"

Bureau Chief Zhang's eyes lit up, his tone carrying a hint of approval: "Factory Director He, you are truly well-informed. That country started a civil war over a decade ago... Years ago, our country invested a lot of money there, building the Somalia Stadium, a maternity hospital, and infrastructure projects like highways. But they've been fighting for ten years now, and most of the facilities have been bombed or destroyed. If the real estate is ruined, so be it, but the problem is—we still have a large number of Chinese merchants stranded there. We urgently need to establish contact with the newly formed Transitional National Government to ensure the safety of our Chinese people's property and lives."

After hearing this, He Yuzhu almost couldn't catch his breath: "You people are going to work someone to death! Even if you don't get killed in that place, you'll catch some disease!"

Bureau Chief Zhang couldn't help but chuckle, "It's not that exaggerated, as long as you're careful!"

"Do I have the option to refuse?" He Yuzhu asked.

"No!"

Ten days later, the Chinese Special High-Level Delegation landed at Mogadishu Airport on a chartered flight from Kenya. On the tarmac sat several rusted, old passenger planes; their paint had faded under the sun, and their skins were riddled with bullet holes of all sizes.

In the grass on both sides of the airport runway, several car wrecks burned into iron frames were tossed haphazardly. Wild grass grew wildly from the gaps in the frames, swaying listlessly in the hot wind.

The glass of the terminal building in the distance was mostly shattered, and the walls were pocked with holes from artillery shells. Several black men wearing colorful robes leaned lazily against the base of the wall, holding old rifles in their hands, the muzzles pointed toward the ground, their eyes filled with the numbness and cynicism of those accustomed to life and death.

He Yuzhu looked at the soldiers at the airport and asked: "Bureau Chief Zhang, give me the rules of engagement this time. Who can be killed? Who cannot?"

Bureau Chief Zhang said: "Anyone who threatens our lives can be killed!"

He Yuzhu smiled: "Understood!"

Bureau Chief Zhang whispered: "However, the methods must be discreet."

"Fine!" He Yuzhu lit a cigarette and turned on the system to perform a scanning of the airport situation.

As the group just exited the so-called airport gate, a soldier with a fleshy face approached, chewing on a cigarette butt, tilting his head, and cursing: "Two hundred dollars each. If you don't pay, come with us to the headquarters for a trip."

He Yuzhu sized him up, didn't waste words, and took out the money directly: "There are twenty-three of us in total. By rights, we should pay four thousand six hundred dollars, but I'll give you five thousand; consider it drink money for the brothers."

The black officer's eyes lit up immediately, he bared a mouthful of white teeth, and gave a thumbs-up: "You are a good man!"

He immediately waved his hand to let his men let them pass.

Bureau Chief Zhang didn't quite understand and leaned over to ask in a low voice: "Did you change your temper? Why so straightforward?"

He Yuzhu said: "Anything that can be solved with money is not a problem. The kind like M Country that wants both your money and your life is the worst!"

The group boarded a semi-new bus provided by a local merchant and headed toward their lodging.

It was a twenty-kilometer dirt road from the airport to the hotel, and as soon as the car drove out, the scene was one of total devastation.

Almost none of the buildings on either side of the road were intact. Some buildings had collapsed on one side, with steel bars exposed like broken bones poking toward the sky; others had been flattened entirely, leaving only piles of broken bricks and tiles on the foundations. Stray dogs darted between the ruins, their ribs clearly visible from starvation.

Occasionally, one could see black children running barefoot on the gravel piles by the roadside, using bullet shells as toys.

The walls were so densely riddled with bullet holes they looked like sieves, and in some places, dark brown bloodstains remained, blackened by the sun.

Scattered men squatted in twos and threes by the roadside; some were chewing leaves called Khat, their cheeks bulging high, their eyes dazed; others were simply napping on tattered mats, their rifles resting by their sides, as if ready to jump up and fight at any moment.

Just as the bus had traveled less than ten kilometers, it passed a small town—though it was called a small town, it no longer looked like one. Everywhere were broken walls and ruins, the streets piled with the wreckage of burned cars and furniture, and the air was filled with a burnt and dusty smell.

Two groups of people seemed to be exchanging fire across a street, the sound of gunfire crackling, and bullets splashing up clouds of dust against the walls.

He Yuzhu immediately told the driver to stop.

Suddenly, a shot hit the windshield, and the glass cracked into a spiderweb pattern. He Yuzhu hadn't expected this semi-new bus to be equipped with bulletproof glass, so it wasn't penetrated.

He Yuzhu roared: "Driver, turn around, quick!"

Just then, a group of people came charging toward the bus, screaming, firing their rifles at the vehicle as they ran. Bullets clattered against the metal skin, sending sparks flying.

He Yuzhu didn't hesitate for a second; he immediately opened the window and climbed onto the roof in one motion.

He braced his feet against the luggage rack on the roof to steady himself and quickly pulled a sniper rifle from his space, aiming at the targets charging in the front.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Three consecutive shots, the crisp sound of gunfire drowning out the sporadic exchange in the distance. The three people in the lead fell to the ground, their bodies rolling twice on the dirt road before lying still.

The bus driver floored the accelerator, the engine roaring as it surged forward, kicking up a trail of yellow dust.

The gunmen who had been chasing on foot were left behind in the blink of an eye. In the dust, only blurred figures remained, still firing at the rear of the bus, but the bullets could no longer reach them.

Bureau Chief Zhang caught his breath and said with a solemn expression: "Factory Director He, I suspect these people are not simple; they are likely targeting us. How should we respond?"

He Yuzhu thought for a moment: "Since that's the case, I might as well go over and take care of them first."

In fact, Bureau Chief Zhang's guess was correct; these people were all militants hired by the M Country CIA.

After the failure of their last attempt to intercept the delegation, the M Country people were still pretending to negotiate with Huaxia on the surface, while secretly using their influence to stir up trouble everywhere, simply because they couldn't stand to see Huaxia gain a foothold in Africa.

The person in charge this time was Colonel James. He hired over a hundred people with the goal of creating obstacles for the negotiations between Huaxia and the Temporary Government, and even finding an opportunity to kill members of the delegation to cause a complete fallout between the two countries.

Come to think of it, the so-called aid the M Country people gave to Africa was nothing more than tossing scraps to a beggar; not only was it little, but they also tied the aid to the rope of political conditions.

But Huaxia's support for Africa was solid—helping them build roads, schools, hospitals, and infrastructure. Repairing bridges, paving roads, and constructing buildings, every single thing was implemented in reality, never attached to those messy conditions.

Bureau Chief Zhang glanced at He Yuzhu and said with some concern: "Factory Director He, I suspect these people were all hired by the Americans. Otherwise, we have no enemies in Africa; they shouldn't have opened fire without even asking. I'm a bit worried about you going alone, fearing they might have an ambush."

He Yuzhu raised an eyebrow: "We've already cooperated once, do you still not trust me?"

Bureau Chief Zhang nodded and urged again: "The situation here is more complex; you might not even be able to tell who is a good person and who is a bad one."

He Yuzhu stopped talking and got out of the car directly: "I'm going over now to catch them off guard. You just keep an eye on the delegation members; don't worry about me."

Bureau Chief Zhang nodded vigorously.

He Yuzhu jumped off the car alone and ran forward quickly. After running a few hundred meters and confirming no one was around, he took a black off-road bulletproof car out of his space, the car packed with all kinds of weapons, from assault rifles to hand grenades.

He Yuzhu drove the car fast and soon returned to the place where the exchange of fire had just occurred.

The people who had been shooting just now never dreamed that someone would dare to charge back to attack them.

The group that had been chasing the convoy had stopped, gathering in twos and threes by the roadside. Some were bandaging their wounded companions, grimacing in pain; the dead were carried into a shallow ditch by the road, and a few people swung shovels to fill dirt over them, their movements listless, as if they were burying nothing more than a dead dog.

He Yuzhu opened the Scanning System and performed a Scanning of the surroundings, discovering that there were still over twenty people alive nearby.