116 The Russian's Feat

The crunching of footsteps sounded remarkably crisp in the quiet wilderness.

The salty, fishy stench in the air, when inhaled, seemed to constantly remind Li Changjiang: This is Libya! The silent wilderness! The Mediterranean breeze! And the deathly quiet cities populated only by solitary night-travelers.

"Hey! Li!"

"What?"

The Russian’s voice was somewhat raspy. They had been on the move for nearly a day and a night. To minimize the chances of being tracked, they had deliberately chosen routes through desolate areas, hiding during the day and pushing forward under the stars at night. Even for a seasoned veteran like the Russian, the sustained high-intensity movement was beginning to take its toll.

"Did you join the Chinese army?"

Li Changjiang stopped abruptly. The question caught him off guard. Join the Chinese army?

"No!"

"Okay, Li, I knew you wouldn't. Hahaha! Buddy, I think we can keep going. Let’s show those damn Libyans what we’re made of."

The Russian’s sudden, almost neurotic shift in mood caught Li Changjiang by surprise, but he quickly understood what was on his companion’s mind. Joining the Chinese army? Perhaps that had been a possibility once, but now, from the moment he stepped foot back onto Libyan soil, that possibility had become a thing of the past. He knew the Russian was right: he belonged here, on the battlefield, not back home living the life of an ordinary man.

A mercenary? That didn't sound too bad.

Li Changjiang chuckled to himself and stepped forward, continuing their journey eastward.

Misurata.

As Li Changjiang and the Russian had suspected, since the last skirmish, the defenses throughout Misurata had increased several-fold. All markets and outposts on the outskirts of the city had been cleared, replaced by military checkpoints. Although the Americans had suffered a setback here, war was always a continuation of politics, and between nations, there were only eternal interests.

The Libyans had blatantly dug a massive hole for the Americans, yet the Americans had no choice but to swallow their pride, shift the blame entirely onto those damn mercenaries and the government forces led by Khamis, and choose to ignore the actions of the rebels. Furthermore, they had the audacity to provide the rebels with a large amount of second-hand weapons and a substantial loan. Behind all these transactions, there was undoubtedly only one goal: all of Libya! Its minerals! Its resources! Its garrison! Perhaps even a puppet regime!

In the underground prison of the Misurata municipal center, the dim lights and damp air offered no sensation other than the realization that one was still alive. A few Libyan rebel soldiers paced back and forth in the corridor. In two adjacent cells, apart from Bob, who looked like a bloody mess, and Tim, who lay motionless on the floor, there was no sign of Williams, Shi Junqiang, or Elisa.

However, from the nearby interrogation room, the dull thuds of blows and the whistling of whips echoed periodically.

*Snap! Snap!*

"Damn Yankee, this is Libya, you understand? Not some damn Hollywood movie set!"

"Enough! Lock him up."

"Yes!"

*Bang!*

The nearly six-foot-three man was thrown into the holding cell, and the door slammed shut. Williams struggled to his feet, blood streaming down his neck and soaking his entire upper body.

"Damn it! Those bastards! Will, are you alright?"

"Damn Libyans!"

"I'm fine. Hey, Bob, are you okay?"

If Li Changjiang were to see them now, he would never have recognized the man who had been a powerhouse less than a month ago. The Libyans were not stupid; knowing these men were experienced mercenaries, they certainly wouldn't give them any chance to escape. Beyond the harsh torture, they only provided food once every two days, in portions so small they barely kept the prisoners alive.

"I’ve figured it out. There are three Libyans in the corridor, plus five inside, making eight in total. They change shifts every two hours. This is our only chance."

"No! No! No! Will, we can't risk it! We have no chance of escaping this godforsaken place."

"Damn it!"

After an angry outburst, the two fell silent.

"Hey, Tim! Tim!"

"Damn it, Tim, what's wrong with you, buddy?"

After Williams and Bob called out several times, Tim finally began to stir.

Meanwhile, on the other side.

Li Changjiang and Nicholas finally reached a point less than a kilometer from the outskirts of Misurata before the dawn arrived.

"Hey, Li, what now?"

Li Changjiang did not answer immediately. He scanned the checkpoint ahead through his scope and then lay down to ponder for a moment.

"Nicholas, those Libyans have reinforced their defenses. It’s too hard for the two of us to charge in. Maybe we should go talk to that General Khamis."

"Khamis? To hell with that, Li, he’s one of the people I least want to see!"

Li Changjiang paused, surprised. He had no idea what kind of history the Russian had with Khamis. Seeming to see the confusion in Li Changjiang’s eyes, the Russian’s face actually turned a bit uneasy.

"Damn it, do you have any idea what I did the last time I was in Libya?"

"What?"

"I robbed Khamis’s private vault!"

Li Changjiang was stunned! This bastard! He really was blinded by greed; he had actually dared to rob Khamis’s private vault. One had to admit, the Russian was truly the champion of the mercenary world. Khamis was, after all, the commander of an entire Libyan legion, with at least tens of thousands of men under his command—even if they were just tens of thousands of pigs, it was still a terrifying force, not to mention that Li Changjiang had seen Khamis's men; while not elite, they were certainly well-trained.

The Russian was likely the first person ever to dare target Khamis.

"Nicholas! I’m curious, just how much money did you steal?"

Speaking of money, even with the three million dollars the Russian had already given him, Li Changjiang couldn't help but feel a stir of greed. Money was an absolute good—no one disliked it, especially US dollars. To some extent, the most important premise for the existence of mercenaries was that it was a career filled with danger, but also filled with temptation, and the source of that temptation was money—vast amounts of it. Li Changjiang didn't even deny that a significant factor in his return to Libya was money.

"Damn it! There wasn't any money! Li, let me tell you, that bastard Khamis—his vault didn't have a single bill in it, just a bunch of damn weapons!"

Hearing this, the expression on Li Changjiang’s face shifted into a look of bitter amusement.