Starting from South America, speeding through the world

Chapter 219 Lighting a Lantern in the Toilet
At 6:45 p.m., the Presidential Palace in Kinshasa.

Jack Snyder came outside the room.

There were already three people in the room, all of whom were colleagues from the US embassy.

In front of the screen, a middle-aged man holds a marker and points at a gray area on the projection.

He noticed the noise at the door, turned around, and shrugged helplessly at Jack.

"He still insisted on going to the celebration," the middle-aged man said.

Although no names were mentioned, everyone present knew who this so-called "he" was.

Karabi Kabang[1], President of the Democratic Republic of Congo.

The man who signed the resource agreement was also their primary target in this protection operation.

Upon hearing this, Jack remained expressionless and asked, "No concessions whatsoever?"

"They won't even change the venue, which is a real rip-off."

From the opposite corner, Steven couldn't help but ask, "Do you think he genuinely doesn't understand the risks, or is he just completely indifferent?"

Jack didn't respond, only saying, "The drone from this afternoon has been confirmed; it's a commercial DJI. Someone has started scouting the location."

"He knows?"

"Of course he does."

"Does he realize the danger he's in?"

"Even an idiot should know how much something he just signed is worth."

"Then what do we do?" Steven asked.

“We’ve given all the advice we could.” The middle-aged man spread his hands. “It’s not like we can just make a phone call tonight and JSOC will send someone over tomorrow.”

“The Congo is, after all, a sovereign nation,” Steven continued. “We have to show some restraint, even if it’s just on the surface.”

The middle-aged man nodded in agreement: "So, all we can do next is tell him that we don't approve, but we will cooperate."

"Who will go and say it?" Jack asked.

The room was silent for three seconds.

Then, almost simultaneously, everyone turned their attention to him.

Jack paused for a moment, seemingly trying to confirm.

“I understand,” he finally said.

The corridor wasn't long, and the floor tiles were old ceramic shards that had been waxed.

As Jack passed the security checkpoint, he casually tapped the badge on his chest.

The Black guard nodded to him.

The door at the end of the hall was ajar, and a red light indicated that someone was inside.

Jack tapped twice lightly.

"Come in."

Karabi sat by the window, looking relaxed, wearing a light gray shirt.

He looked at Jack and asked in English, "You're here to try and persuade me too?"

"Yes, Mr. President."

Jack stood two meters away and said seriously.

"I am here to report to you that intelligence indicates there are many potential risks around the villa, therefore I strongly suggest that you cancel your attendance."

Karabi leaned back in his chair, his right hand unconsciously tapping his knee.

"You Americans are always good at 'advice'."

He paused, then gave a sarcastic smirk: "I remember last time you advised me not to meet with opposition leaders in public."

"The news still leaked out, and people outside said I was afraid of them."

"This time too."

Karabi looked out onto the lawn. "Whether they're enemies or allies, they're all watching me."

"Rumors have already spread that I am the president you have locked in a cage."

As soon as he finished speaking, he turned his head and stared coldly at Jack: "Or do you really think that once I sign that agreement, I have to obey your every word?"

“I’m sorry, Mr. President, I don’t understand politics.”

Trying to avoid falling into the other's linguistic trap, Jack continued in a low voice, "I have no intention of expressing any opinion; I am merely providing necessary security advice." "Security," Calabre repeated.

“Every time you guys talk about ‘safety,’ I know I’m going to have to give up something again.”

He stood up, walked up to Jack, and looked down at him: "This is my grandson's first birthday."

"It is not a state visit, not a political party rally, and not any kind of 'public event' as you define it."

"If even this is to be abolished, then I will be completely reduced to an administrative appendage of yours."

"Mr. President, we never—"

“Of course you won’t say it outright,” Karabi interrupted him with a cold laugh.

“You’re just sending ambassadors, advisors, and ‘security coordinators’ who offer advice, intelligence, and analysis, but what is the real purpose? Control.”

“But let me tell you, Jack, my presidential guard isn’t your people. They were handpicked, and their backgrounds are as clean as can be. I trust them.”

At this point, he narrowed his eyes: "Or are you trying to imply that some of them also want to kill me?"

The moment those words were uttered, the air grew heavy.

Jack, unwilling to escalate the situation further, simply gave up arguing.

He took a half step back, making his posture non-aggressive:
"We detected several unusual behaviors around the villa."

"During the late night hours, multiple groups of strangers were observed moving around the area."

"Another commercial frequency band was occupied multiple times, suspected to be a shortwave relay signal, lasting between forty seconds and one and a half minutes."

"All indications suggest that it is indeed not advisable to conduct any activities, whether public or private, in the near future."

"Of course, I wouldn't dare make the decision for you."

"But I don't think any child would want their birthday to end up as a day of bloodshed."

The room fell into a deathly silence.

Karabi did not speak immediately.

He stood there for two seconds, then sat down again as if nothing had happened.

“What do you want to do?” Karabi asked.

“We only requested that the perimeter security team be deployed, without uniforms, using unmarked communication devices, and that no clearing measures be implemented.”

"All personnel will maintain low visibility and be directed by the on-site DSS unit, without interfering with any on-site order or activity process."

Karabi stared at him for a moment, as if reassessing the man rather than his advice.

After a moment, he nodded.

"can."

“But you tell them, don’t let me see anyone on the scene who looks like an American soldier, whether it’s a pair of shoes, a pair of sunglasses, or the tone of their voice.”

Upon hearing this, Jack finally breathed a sigh of relief.

"We will fully cooperate."

"I hope so."

Karabi waved his hand, indicating that he could leave.

At the end of the corridor, my colleagues had been waiting for a long time.

As the man approached, they both looked up almost simultaneously, their expressions revealing a hint of nervousness.

"He let us in."

A smile appeared on Jack's face. "But on the condition that we act as if we never existed."

"How many people can we send in?" Steven asked.

"Without entering the scene, we will maintain a three-ring perimeter, and the rest will be handled by the Presidential Guard. We cannot interfere."

"Can the guards be trusted?" Steven raised an eyebrow.

“They’re more afraid of something going wrong than we are,” Jack said calmly.

The middle-aged man paused for two seconds, then said softly, "That doesn't sound good."

“There’s nothing we can do,” Jack sighed. “This is the best we could get.”

　[1] I slightly changed the name, in case the review process gets stuck.
　　Also, the author has been quite busy lately, so updates may be delayed for the next few days.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)