Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 891 Chaos
The bomb's fuse hissed in the darkness, spitting out dark red sparks like a viper's tongue.

Song Heping and Jiang Feng rushed up to the third-floor platform in three strides. Just as their backs touched the wall, the sound of an explosion below tore through the air.

The entire building shook violently, and dust fell from the ceiling.

The shockwave from the explosion blew the fire door in the stairwell off, sending it crashing heavily against the wall opposite the corridor.

Thick dust rushed out of the third-floor exit along the corridor. Even though they were hiding behind the wall of the third-floor corridor, the two of them could still feel the huge impact. They immediately felt a tightness in their chests and saw stars.

"The staircase is broken!"

Jiang Feng peeked out.

Two load-bearing columns were precisely destroyed by the explosion, and the staircase between the third and second floors looked as if it had been bitten by a giant beast, revealing the hideous cross-section of the steel bars.

Several guards who rushed to the front were thrown into the air by the shockwave and flew directly out of the corridor window. Their screams were drowned out by the continuous echoes of the explosions.

"There's a bit too much explosive..."

Song Heping's eardrums were ringing, and he shook his head violently to clear his mind.

"Get to the broadcasting studio! You have three minutes left in your speech!"

The two men bent over and ran quickly when bullets suddenly whistled in from outside the window.

Seeing that they couldn't get to the third floor, the guards downstairs stood on the open ground and started firing wildly at the windows on the third floor.

As they broke down the door to the broadcasting studio, Ferrari was using the butt of his gun to knock out a struggling staff member.

The red indicator light on the broadcasting equipment remained lit, and Duer's steady voice traveled across the country via radio waves—

"The Noel regime has lost its legitimacy, and I am now announcing this to everyone on the national radio."

Abdul, sweating profusely, stood guard by the satellite phone. As soon as they entered, he reported, "I have good news and bad news!"

Song Heping ordered directly: "Let's hear the good news first."

Abdul said, "Lumar said the eastern front troops have broken through the first line of defense! It seems the broadcast had some effect; the enemy officers captured at the front said their superiors ordered them to hold their positions, but they ran away..."

Song Heping pressed further: "And the bad news?"

Abdul's Adam's apple bobbed, and he said in a deep voice, "Our informants within the government forces have reported that a company of the Presidential Guard is moving toward the radio station!"

Song Heping glanced at his watch—thirty seconds left.

He pressed the radio intercom button: "Collins, report the situation!"

The headset crackled with static and heavy breathing: "The elevator shaft is empty. I'm in the parking lot. I see four armed pickup trucks entering from the south gate; they seem to be blocking the exit."

"Damn it!"

Song Heping slammed his fist on the control panel.

The original plan was to make a disguised evacuation from the underground parking lot, but now their escape route is being blocked.

He quickly scanned the room, his gaze landing on the ventilation ducts in the ceiling—too narrow; then he turned to the window—jumping from the third floor would leave him either dead or crippled, and there were numerous armed guards below.

"What should we do?" Abdul asked, beads of sweat dripping from his nose, his voice trembling slightly.

It seems this young opposition officer is already somewhat intimidated.

After all, he knew very well what would happen if he fell into the hands of the presidential guard.

Regardless of whether the coup succeeds or not, I will definitely become a martyr.

The broadcast equipment suddenly beeped, and Collins' voice boomed from the walkie-talkie: "There are at least twenty of them. I saw them set up a checkpoint at the parking lot exit. We'll definitely have to go through their checkpoint to get out, boss. What do we do now?! How do we get out?"

Actually, Collins was probably the most nervous of everyone.

He led the way, raising the elevator to the fourth floor and then sliding down the steel cable from the elevator shaft to the underground parking lot.

According to the original plan, the group could retrieve their car from the underground parking lot and leave.

But given the current situation, it's probably very difficult to leave now.

Almost simultaneously, a series of gunshots rang out from the south side of the building.

Song Heping rushed to the window and saw through the gap in the curtains that four pickup trucks with heavy machine guns mounted were rolling over the garden fence, their cargo beds full of presidential guards wearing red berets.

These elite soldiers are not as easy to deal with as ordinary guards.

"We'll proceed as planned, going through the underground parking lot."

Song Heping's voice was like steel that had been tempered in fire, incredibly firm.

"We went down the elevator shaft. Ferrari, immediately after the speech, planted a bomb to destroy the equipment."

Under the tense gazes of everyone, Song Heping had already torn down the curtains and started tearing them into long strips: "Jiang Feng, prepare the rappelling anchor point. Abdul, continue to contact Lumar to get the latest news from the front."

Duer's speech was now drawing to a close—

"The people of Seine will eventually gain their freedom. From this day forward, all those oppressed by the Noel regime, stand up! Take up your weapons, even if they are just machetes, and settle accounts with the lackeys of that corrupt former regime!"

Listening to these highly inflammatory words, Song Heping sneered inwardly. This Duer was indeed a master of politics.

As the last sentence fell, Ferrari stepped forward, pulled the safety on a thermite incendiary bomb, and inserted it into the recording equipment.

Soon, with a muffled thud, bright white sparks burst forth from the gap between the equipment.

The blazing white flames quickly began to engulf the million-dollar equipment, ensuring that no one could use the equipment here for rebroadcasting.

This was all planned in advance. Even if these people left the radio station and the presidential guard regained control of the area, they would not be able to broadcast a denial broadcast again.

This effectively cut off all escape routes. "The documents have been found; this woman is a deputy director."

"Let's go! To the elevator."

Song Heping walked out without looking back.

"and many more!"

Abdul stopped in his tracks.

"What to do with these people?"

He pointed to the radio staff who were trapped on the ground.

Song Heping was taken aback for a moment, then immediately understood what he meant.

"what do you want?"

"Kill them all."

After saying that, Abdul pulled out his pistol, went up to each of them, offered them peanuts, and ended their lives.

Ferrari muttered under his breath, "FUCK!"

No one went up to stop them.

Because Abdul did nothing wrong.

If the presidential guard arrives after the group leaves, they will learn from the survivors who attacked them.

If they hadn't escaped by then, they would have been surrounded and killed.

Dead people cannot speak.

The safest secrets are those known only to the dead.

After clearing the area, the group arrived at the elevator.

The elevator door was pried open with an axe, and the dark shaft looked like a monster's esophagus.

Jiang Feng secured the curtain rope to the steel beam and was the first to slide down.

After Song Heping finished speaking, before jumping into the elevator shaft, he walked to the fire escape and looked down.

Sure enough, government soldiers were setting up ladders, attempting to climb to the third floor using wooden ladders.

Song Heping took out a grenade and threw it around the corner of the corridor.

Amid the violent explosion, he heard the screams of at least three people falling off the ladder.

After doing all this, he quickly returned to the elevator shaft.

After descending vertically for fifteen meters, the curtain fabric in Song Heping's hands emitted a burning smell due to the friction and heat.

About ten seconds later, he arrived at the underground parking lot.

Jiang Feng, Ferrari, and Abdul were already waiting at the elevator entrance.

"Boss."

Collins emerged from the darkness ahead.

"You've all arrived? They've blocked the exits, how are we supposed to get out?"

"BBC credentials."

Song Heping said, "Remember, we are British journalists reporting on the situation in Seine. We've been hiding in our car because we heard the explosion and were too scared to come out. Now that we see government soldiers have arrived, we're finally planning to leave this hellhole."

He pointed with his finger, emphasizing, "Remember this: if they try to stop us and let me handle it, all of you keep quiet!"

"OK!"

Everyone immediately gave an OK sign.

The emergency lights in the underground parking lot flickered on and off, and the echo of leather boots pounding the ground came from afar.

It appears that soldiers have already begun searching the parking lot.

There is no time.

Song Heping took out his non-prescription glasses, put them on, and said to the others, "Maintain formation, Ferrari in front."

He adjusted his non-prescription glasses. "From now on, we are BBC reporters, no doubt about it, understand?"

Everyone nodded.

They lined up in a standard media team formation and headed towards the exit—Collins, the "photographer" holding a camera; Jiang Feng, the "sound engineer" with a recording stick; Abdul, the "local guide" wearing an ill-fitting floral shirt; and Ferrari with a press pass.

Song Heping walked at the back, with a loaded Glock pistol tucked inside his photographer's vest.

If something unexpected happens, we'll have no choice but to force our way through!

They hadn't gone far when three armed guards suddenly rushed out of the darkness.

"Halt!" the leading corporal shouted sternly.

Ferrari immediately held up his badge and shouted in heavily accented English, "Don't shoot! We're from the BBC!"

(End of this chapter)