Chapter 106: Temporary Peace

Brian climbed back into the back seat after closing the rear door and asked Henry, the driver: "Can you estimate how much time is left until we reach the airport?"

"About thirty minutes, slightly less," Henry replied.

Brian immediately contacted the pilot via satellite phone. As soon as the man answered, he said: "Get the plane onto the runway. We'll reach the airport in about thirty minutes. As soon as we arrive, take off immediately."

"What! Are you having problems over there?"

"Are airport personnel blocking you?"

"Take the U. S. dollars from the plane's safe, give it to them, and tell them to get the hell out. Otherwise, let them eat bullets."

"Believe me, you absolutely do not want to see a small passenger jet turned into a sieve by several machine guns before it can take off—especially while we're still on board."

"We've temporarily shaken off our pursuers, but I don't think those niggers will give up easily. They know our destination—the airport."

"Hurry up and sort it out. Worst case, we just never come back to Somalia."

"Remember, get the plane onto the runway fast. We have less than thirty minutes until we reach the airport."

After putting away the satellite phone, Brian turned to Audrey He Ben, who sat beside him with a worried expression, and said: "Rest assured, madam. There's just a minor issue at the airport."

"Yeah, compared to ours, theirs can only be called a minor issue," the movie star in the back seat joked.

Audrey He Ben, finally able to sit up properly, looked back toward the road behind them and asked with slight concern: "Will they catch up again?"

Brian answered: "High probability."

"Just to kidnap me? A washed-up celebrity?" Audrey doubted.

"Madam, don't underestimate your own value," Brian explained. "You're a Hollywood celebrity and a United Nations Goodwill Ambassador. That means, no matter what, you must be rescued from the kidnappers—you're a public figure."

"Problems solvable with money are the simplest compared to armed operations. It's only a matter of how much money is involved, depending on the skill of intermediaries and negotiators."

"But from your standpoint, don't assume you'll definitely be rescued just because you're valuable. How much suffering will you endure before the ransom is paid and you're released?"

"Believe me, for those kidnappers, you only need to be alive to have value—but alive is all they care about. They won't be treating you to a five-star hotel with gourmet meals and top-tier medical care."

"Even a healthy, normal man would be reduced to a broken shell by these people. How much worse for you, madam? And isn't that precisely why you hired us—to avoid exactly this?"

"Let us do our job. I'm counting on this mission to earn me a good reputation, not a disastrous outcome in the eyes of outsiders."

"Alright," Audrey said, glancing back at the other vehicle. "Do you know if the people in the other car are injured?"

Brian said nothing, picked up the radio, and asked: "Alpha here. Any casualties in Vehicle Two? Over."

Soon, the radio crackled back: "Beta here. Everyone is safe. Repeat, everyone is safe. Over. Hey, motherfucker, Brian, you should see the state of our vehicle—it's been shot full of holes."

"Mind your language—there's a lady present. You stupid old dog," Brian snapped back over the radio, then turned to Lady He Ben. "Looks like they're fine—they're still loud enough to curse."

Audrey He Ben sighed in relief: "That's good. But it seems our itinerary is canceled now."

"According to protocol, if a delegation is attacked, all activities are immediately suspended and the team evacuates Somalia as soon as possible," Brian replied. "We're not war correspondents or soldiers—we don't have to hold the front line."

"Will those children be in danger?" Audrey asked again.

"No," Brian said, speaking against his better judgment. "The children have no value. The kidnappers won't pay them any attention."

He knew well that blaming others for mission failure was common—and those children were perfect scapegoats.

But he didn't need to say it. What if this lady, in a fit of emotion, demanded they go back to rescue them? It wasn't a question of danger—it was impossible.

"So where do we go next?" Audrey asked. She knew the rule about halting activities after an attack, but she didn't care much about the next steps.

Who would expect that a routine UNICEF visit, led by an ordinary official, would be attacked like this?

Brian said: "The evacuation protocol doesn't prescribe fixed routes. The team is to head to the nearest UN peacekeeping base or U. S. military installation."

"Then, under military protection, evacuate by air directly back to the U. S., or transit through Europe before returning. That's the general principle."

"But since we're heading to the airport anyway, once we're on the plane and airborne, our options open up. The exact destination depends on how far the plane's fuel can take us—flying straight back to the U. S. is possible."

Since this was an event organized by a UN-affiliated body, whether it ended normally or was interrupted abnormally, personnel didn't just go home after completing the local schedule—they had to report to the UN.

So everyone's final destination would be New York. Only after submitting the report at the UN Headquarters would the entire mission be officially concluded.

"By the way, shouldn't we notify the other UNICEF team about what happened here?" Audrey remembered the other group and asked.

Brian shook his head. "Wait until we're airborne and confirmed safe, then contact them. I don't think this was a coordinated attack on our entire team—it's more like local terrorists acting on impulse."

"Besides, the other group has UN peacekeepers protecting them. They're far safer than we are."

Brian harbored a private motive here. If he reported it, and they issued orders, would he have to obey? Command authority had always been the most frustrating issue in these multi-headed teams.

Moreover, they themselves knew what their true mission had been during this time. Much of Somalia's collapse had been driven by them.

Under these circumstances, no local African force could possibly coordinate a joint attack on two separated teams.

The real reason we were attacked? Local armed groups saw a fat sheep wander into their territory and couldn't resist the temptation.

Honestly, this is my fault. What else can I do but swallow it?

Day4, Celebrating Launch, Extra Chapter at 9 PM

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(End of Chapter)