Farming Life Starting in Africa

Miao Feng rubbed his eyes, yawned, and sat up: "Brother Zhou is back? So early... Did you not sleep all night or just got up?"

Zhou Weijie didn't respond. He got into the car, took a pair of binoculars out of his shoulder bag, and handed them to Rosen.

"Outside the gate, on the left side of the road, is the third silver-gray Nissan Sunny."

Rosen took the binoculars, adjusted the focus, and looked in that direction.

Outside the port gate, the driver of that car was sitting on the other side of the road, while the window on this side was rolled down, and a female driver was dozing off.

"That car was parked there when we arrived yesterday. I spotted her just now while I was observing the port."

He took his phone out of his bag, flipped through a few pages, found a photo, and handed it to Rosen.

"Is it her?"

Rosen put down his binoculars and looked down at the photos on his phone.

The photo shows a middle-aged woman with dark skin, distinct features, and sharp, piercing eyes. Her lips are pressed into a thin line, and her expression is cold and wary.

She looks very similar to the woman in the car.

"Who is she?" Rosen asked.

Leng Feng took the binoculars and looked in that direction as well. His eyes were much sharper than Rosen's; he immediately noticed something amiss. The woman's posture was off; she was leaning slightly forward, as if deliberately hiding something.

"Umm Imara, the only female mid-level member of the Zaka organization to have ever appeared in public. One of the planners of the series of bombings that targeted Betsika last year; three bombings killed 47 people and injured more than 100. The Ivia government has a bounty of $200,000 on her head. If she is captured alive, the reward is $500,000."

Their eyes lit up. A lucky bag! This early in the morning, they'd found a walking $500,000!

Leng Feng held the binoculars and carefully observed the woman. She was extremely sleepy; her eyelids were drooping, and her head was nodding off repeatedly, as if she were doing some kind of head-nodding exercise.

"Want to give it a try?" Leng Feng's tone carried a sense of eager anticipation.

Zhou Weijie shook his head helplessly. "I observed her just now. She was alone. When these Zaka's men appear alone, these lunatics usually wear bomb vests."

Miao Feng immediately deflated. "What do we do then? Just watch her there? Or call the police? Let the government troops come and arrest her?"

Rosen thought for a moment, and the corners of his mouth slowly curved up.

"It's still worth a try. Just watch out for her hands. She's trapped right now, so a sneak attack could give us a chance to capture her alive. Even if we don't capture her alive, we can at least get a corpse."

Zhou Weijie smiled too. He had spent a lot of money on this trip. Although Rosen said he would reimburse him, who wouldn't like this kind of quick money? He was happy to receive money as soon as he got back.

"Okay," Zhou Weijie began assigning tasks, "In a bit, we'll drive this car out. Miao Feng, you drive. If she lowers her guard, just ram her. If she's too wary, we'll go out of the port, take a detour, and ambush her from the driver's side."

He looked at Rosen: "You and I will be responsible for controlling the target. You're quick and strong, so you'll be responsible for the upper body, and I'll be responsible for the lower body."

"Okay." Rosen nodded.

"Leng Feng," Zhou Weijie turned to look at the back seat, "Take your M40 and find a secluded spot as a last resort. If we lose control of the situation, or if she touches something she shouldn't, you take her down without hesitation."

Leng Feng nodded.

"Miao Feng," Zhou Weijie patted Miao Feng on the shoulder, "After you hit her, jump out of the car and come over to hold her foot down."

Miao Feng swallowed hard and nodded vigorously. His palms were sweaty, but his voice remained steady: "Okay."

The group quickly agreed on the order and details of the operation.

Leng Feng, carrying his gun holster, was the first to walk out of the port. He walked with his head down, like an ordinary expatriate leaving the port to run errands.

As he passed the gate, he slightly turned his head.

Inside the silver-gray Nissan Sunny, the woman's eyelids twitched, and she glanced at him.

Leng Feng's expression remained unchanged. The woman's gaze lingered on him for less than a second before shifting away. An Asian man was not her target.

Her eyelids drooped again. Sleepiness was like a tide, washing over her in waves, impossible to stop. She had been staring into this car for over 15 hours.

Leng Feng walked out of the port gate, turned a corner, and disappeared behind a cluster of houses.

About ten minutes later, Leng Feng's voice came through the walkie-talkie, "In position. Good visibility, proceed."

Zhou Weijie pressed a button on the walkie-talkie to indicate that he had received the message.

The BJ40's engine started.

The sound of the V8 diesel engine was particularly clear in the quiet of the early morning, but the woman in the silver-gray Nissan Sunny only slightly raised her head and glanced at it. It was just a civilian-modified Jeep, not her target.

Her gaze returned to her side, and her head continued to tilt to one side.

Rosen sat in the passenger seat, his eyes fixed on the Nissan Sunny, unblinking. His hand was on the door handle, ready to push the door open and jump out at any moment.

Miao Feng gripped the steering wheel, his palms sweating profusely. His foot rested lightly on the accelerator, his heart pounding like a drum.

"Closer," Zhou Weijie said in a low voice from the back seat, "closer...don't arouse her suspicion, don't go too fast..."

The vehicle slowly drove towards the port gate. The noise of the vehicle made the woman subconsciously glance at the approaching vehicle again. Finding nothing different, her drowsiness intensified, and her eyelids became too heavy to lift.

She lowered her head and continued to doze off.

"Charge them!" Rosen shouted suddenly in a low voice.

Miao Feng did not hesitate for a moment.

His right foot slammed down on the accelerator. The V8 diesel engine roared furiously, booming and whirring.

The modified BJ40 roared like an enraged rhinoceros, charging toward the right side of the target vehicle.

Twenty meters.

ten meters.

Five meters —

"Boom—Clang!"

The exterior of a civilian car is practically made of paper in front of this modified, heavily armored vehicle. The passenger door of the Nissan Sunny dented instantly, the hood warped and deformed, the radiator ruptured, and coolant hissed out, emitting a plume of white smoke.

The woman inside the car was pulled by inertia, first slamming into the passenger seat on the right, and then bounced back against the driver's side door. The impact to her head smashed the car window, creating a spiderweb-like crack, and blood splattered on the glass.

Rosen pushed open the car door and leaped out.

His movements were as fast as a cheetah's; he braced himself against the hood with his right hand, slid over it, and pulled open the driver's side door of the Nissan Sunny with his left.