Chapter 49: Changes to the Visit Plan

"Hey, buddy, want a beer?"

Henry pressed down on a Styrofoam travel cooler in the trunk and asked Bernie, the oldest member of the security team.

The retired Green Beret master sergeant glanced at his comrade-in-arms, Mark, who was standing nearby, and nodded. "Henry, toss me one."

Henry reached into the ice-filled cooler, pulled out two aluminum cans of beer, and tossed them over. Then, he grabbed one for himself.

The three men opened their cans simultaneously, took a gulp, and let out a collective sigh of relief. The ice-cold beer felt almost magical, driving away the sweltering heat of the African continent.

Not far away, Audrey Hepburn was playing with children sheltered by a child protection agency, accompanied by UN personnel and local Somali officials.

However, the only one truly caring for the children was Ms. Hepburn. Once the UN staff and Somali officials finished taking photos, they stood to the side to discuss business.

The content of their conversation—their anxiety over the domestic political situation—was something Henry had overheard using his super-hearing. To everyone else, they just looked like two groups of people with worried expressions.

To make them smile again, or to treat those children well, they would probably need a camera pointed at them. That was more effective than any verbal prodding.

Henry had just finished a roll of film. Taking the opportunity to change it near the car, he grabbed a beer with the two privately hired security guards stationed by the vehicle to beat the heat.

He noticed the local guide and several black men in uniforms—he wasn't sure if they were soldiers or police—looking over with envious eyes. Henry grabbed enough cold beers from the cooler and walked over.

Using the Somali he had just learned, Henry said, "Hey, friends, it's a hot day. How about a gift from a friend?"

"You are truly generous, friend." The men beamed as they took the beers.

Henry, who had crammed Somali before the trip, spoke to them in a stumbling manner.

It must be said that the language learned from textbooks is not the same as the colloquial speech of the locals. When Henry first tried speaking to the men using stiff, textbook Somali, he was laughed at quite heartily.

Now, being able to converse with them properly was the result of his interactions with these men.

In truth, with Henry's abilities, speaking like a local—including using the unique tongue-clicking intonations perfectly—would have been no problem at all. But that learning speed would have been too terrifying, so he played the part again.

After muttering a few words with the men, Henry returned to the car and asked Bernie, "What about Brian and the others?"

Hearing Henry's question, Bernie replied, "They're preparing for tomorrow's events."

Henry couldn't help but complain, "Yeah. Before we left, they said not to change the plan easily, but who knew we'd run into such problems as soon as we arrived."

"No one knew the situation in Somalia would get this bad," Bernie said with a wry smile. "We thought this would be a simple job: wander around a bit, then go home."

Henry didn't believe that complaint for a second. If it weren't for the CIA people like them fanning the flames, would this African nation under their feet have become so dire?

But Henry couldn't say that, of course. He followed Bernie's lead: "I heard Somalia invited us to visit on their own initiative. Only after arriving did we realize the society was in turmoil; there wasn't a single report about it back home."

"I'm starting to think President Barre didn't ask for this to get more UNICEF aid, but because he wanted peacekeepers to come and hold the line for him."

Bernie agreed, "You're right. We've known how cunning those 'n-words' are for a long time. No wonder the old plantation owners only used whips to teach them how to work, rather than trying to reason with them."

Faced with such discriminatory remarks, Henry shrugged indifferently; he certainly wasn't going to call the man out.

After all, this wasn't the era of political correctness; the rhetoric of these white men hadn't been completely suppressed yet. Even in the future, such views were merely suppressed, not gone.

To a bystander watching the show, it was like putting a lid on a pressure cooker, heating it from below, and waiting for the moment the lid couldn't withstand the pressure and blew off.

But for now, Henry just complained about the matter at hand: "The next place we're supposed to visit is already in chaos. The Somali officials still insist we go, even saying it's fine if Ms. Hepburn doesn't go, but the peacekeepers must."

"I almost laughed when I heard that request. Does that president who looks down his nose at everyone think we're his soldiers, to be ordered around at will?"

"Pfft, 'looks down his nose,' that's an interesting way to put it. That n-word doesn't actually hold his head that high; he just has big nostrils," Bernie laughed.

"Yeah, thanks to him, we have to change our itinerary at the last minute and split into two groups for the visit," Henry said helplessly. "Actually, I'd rather persuade Ms. Hepburn to give up the rest of the trip and return home early."

"No one can persuade that big star, can they?" Bernie said, taking a broad view. "Look, even Brian has silently accepted the change in plans and is making the follow-up arrangements. We're here, so you don't need to worry about your safety."

Henry said gloomily, "You know, that's how it always goes in the movies. Once a team splits up for various reasons, one group is bound to have bad luck, or even be wiped out. Otherwise, there's no cinematic effect."

"Ha, Hollywood people," Bernie laughed. "You said it yourself, that's a cinematic effect. It's not like that in reality. Otherwise, in war, what commander would dare split his troops into two to attack?"

"Besides, the place we're going tomorrow was chosen from the backup locations in the original itinerary. Brian already had a plan; he's just adjusting the deployment and confirming the implementation at the new site. With us here, you don't need to worry about your safety."

Henry muttered a few words, acting just like an ordinary, cowardly young man.

Not far away, Ms. Hepburn waved at Henry. The young assistant immediately understood and picked up a box of candy and cookies from the trunk.

Henry said to the people beside him, "The lady is calling me; I'll go over first."

"Go on, kid. I've got your back," Bernie said, using a phrase with a double meaning, which made him and his old comrade burst into laughter.

Henry didn't dislike these veterans who were hiding their CIA identities. He guessed they wouldn't be able to stay there for long. Intelligence agencies were foul-smelling cesspools that didn't suit the nature of soldiers.

But he didn't forget to retort, "Then you'd better use your mouths to stop it if someone comes charging at my backside with a big toy! That way, you won't have to worry about your own backsides!"

"Whoa! Nice one, kid," Mark, who hadn't said a word until now, exclaimed.