Liu Ziguang took the heavy shotgun and played with it. This gun should not be mass-produced. The walnut stock was shiny, the metal parts were engraved with patterns, and the gun body was slender and graceful...
Shotgun bullets and shotgun bullets are the same. The caliber is distinguished by number. The most common one is No. 12, which means that one pound of pure lead divided into twelve parts is the weight of the bullet. No. 10 hunting bullet is about 45 grams.
It weighs only about ten grams, while the warhead of ordinary rifle bullets is only about ten grams. This shows how powerful this gun is. It is not an exaggeration to say that it can knock down an elephant.
But Liu Ziguang just played with it and returned it to George Wood, saying: "This gun is every man's dream, but for me, knocking down the elephant is not the goal. I am afraid that what I have to deal with is far more than the animal."
Be dangerous."
Mr. Wood raised a finger to express understanding, put the double-barreled shotgun back in the cabinet, and took out a Remington five-shot 12-gauge shotgun and said: "Young man, I know you have a problem with sustained firepower."
This American product should be able to satisfy your requirements. If you insist on a Kalashnikov automatic rifle that can fire continuously, I'm afraid I will disappoint you."
Liu Ziguang took the Remington and checked the barrel and bolt. The gun was well maintained, the smooth bore was clean, and the parts acted reliably. More importantly, the No. 12 bullets used in this gun were easy to replenish.
Can be purchased anywhere.
"So, how much should I pay you?" Liu Ziguang asked.
Mr. Wood waved his hand: "No, I'm just lending it to you, but you have to pay for the bullets. I happen to have a box here with twenty-five rounds of shotguns. Just give me 20,000 West African CFA francs."
The price was very fair, only about 200 yuan in RMB. Liu Ziguang paid the money readily, said goodbye to Mr. Wood, and returned to his room. The hotel's diesel generator was unable to maintain the operation of so many air conditioners, and the air conditioner had stopped.
When I opened the window, the sea breeze blew in my face, which was quite refreshing. This was how I spent my first night in West Africa.
Early the next morning, Liu Ziguang put on new khaki pants and shirt, put on jungle boots, and carried a shotgun to the door of the hotel. A Land Rover Defender was already parked there. The manager handed over the key and said: "Map
In the car, I have also prepared a guide and translator for you."
As he spoke, he beckoned a black child in a doorman uniform over. The child was about thirteen or fourteen years old. His big eyes blinked very cutely. He said obediently in English: "Good morning, sir."
"His name is Arthur, and he is from the Kaye tribe. The Great Lakes area you are going to happens to be an area inhabited by the Kaye tribe. I think bringing Arthur will be of great use," the manager said.
"Thank you very much." Liu Ziguang shook hands with the manager and asked, "By the way, what is your ethnic group?"
"I am from the Wendu tribe, but does this make any difference?" The manager smiled kindly, and the small golden key shone brightly on the collar of his elegant suit. For this kind of senior white-collar manager who is already very Westernized, it is
There is really no distinction between ethnic groups. In fact, they are equivalent to another ethnic group living in San Juan.
Liu Ziguang drove a Land Rover onto the streets of San Juan. This in-line five-cylinder diesel-powered Land Rover off-road vehicle has great power and excellent performance. Although it does not feel comfortable when sitting on it, it has a kind of lofty ambition to conquer the world.
.
The black kid Arthur was so excited that he jumped up and down on the passenger seat, grinning, pointing in the direction of the road from time to time, and guiding Liu Ziguang forward. San Juan was relatively peaceful during the day, except for the soldiers patrolling the streets.
Can't see anything strange.
Liu Ziguang came to a food store. It sold rice, flour, various vegetables, canned food, meat, and of course a large number of tropical fruits. It was the largest food store in San Juan. The owner was from the Wendu tribe and could speak simple Portuguese.
I learned through exchanges that the Chinese medical team does come to purchase food every week. They will drive a pickup truck and arrive on Tuesday morning to buy a bunch of rice, white noodles, Chinese hot sauce, and instant noodles. However, they may not be able to come today.
, because of a heavy rain last night, the roads near Carlos Lake may be difficult to walk.
"But it didn't rain last night?" Liu Ziguang was puzzled.
"Sir, the climate in Africa is like this." the boss said.
He waited at the food store all morning with the intention of giving it a try, but he didn't see the medical team's car. Liu Ziguang didn't want to wait any longer, because the map showed that Lake Carlos was only more than 200 kilometers away from San Juan.
If he moved quickly enough, he could arrive there in two hours, so after purchasing some drinking water and food, he drove to Lake Carlos.
Although it is the dry season in Africa, Western Saddamoa is close to the sea. The rain clouds brought by the Atlantic monsoon nourish the tropical jungle. There are large areas of dense woods and plantations on both sides of the road. The red dirt road is full of deep ruts.
India, an off-road vehicle cannot drive very fast on such a road. The African sun hangs high above your head, making your skin hot.
After driving for dozens of kilometers, the road began to become difficult to walk, and dead bodies appeared on both sides of the road. Judging from the clothes, they must be government soldiers. The classic four-color camouflage uniforms were soaked in blood. The bodies were swollen, giant-shaped, and golden.
The flies were densely stuck on it, and as soon as the car passed by, they flew up like a black mist.
The dirt road between the jungles was extremely muddy. If it weren't for the Land Rover's excellent off-road performance, it would have been stuck in the mud. As we were moving forward with difficulty, we suddenly saw a checkpoint in front of us. There were red and white railings across the road, and several soldiers in camouflage uniforms.
Stand in the middle of the road and wave your hands to signal to stop.
Liu Ziguang stopped the car without turning off the engine, glanced at the shotgun under the seat, and waited for the soldiers to come over for questioning. Unexpectedly, those black soldiers rushed over with a roar, pointed their automatic rifles at his head, and shouted in native dialect at the top of their lungs,
Arthur told Liu Ziguang tremblingly: "They asked you to get off the bus."
Liu Ziguang slowly got out of the car and raised his hands. Facing the dark muzzle and the unclear situation, he did not dare to act rashly. The soldiers motioned him to lie on the hood of the car, searched his pockets, and took out his passport.
Without looking at it, he threw it on the ground, took out a large stack of West African CFA francs from his wallet and laughed.
Other soldiers jumped on the car and picked up the tarpaulin with the barrel of their guns, shouting exaggeratedly. What was underneath was just some pure water, cans, and biscuits. However, they felt like they were facing a formidable enemy. They pointed their guns at Liu Ziguang's chest and shouted, Arthur
The translator said: "They asked you where you were taking these things. Are you funding the rebels?"
Not wanting to irritate these nervous soldiers, Liu Ziguang said slowly: "I am a doctor and I don't know any rebels."
Arthur translated, and the soldiers stared at Liu Ziguang fiercely, not believing his words at all. At this moment, the shotgun hidden under the seat was discovered. The soldiers' expressions immediately changed, and they pushed the bolt of the gun without any explanation.
He was escorted to a small wooden house on the roadside, and Arthur was also pushed in.
There were already three people in the cabin, and two of them turned out to be Asians with yellow skin and black hair. Liu Ziguang was moved in his heart and asked: "Chinese?"
The two Asians raised their heads, looked at him suspiciously, and replied in Chinese: "Who are you?"
"I am also Chinese. Are you from the medical team?"
"Yes, we are the purchasing group of the medical team. We were detained by these soldiers a few hours ago. Our money and car were confiscated, and we can no longer contact the team."
"Why are you being detained? Aren't they government troops?"
"Because we came from the Kaye ethnic group, they were fighting, and each said the other was a rebel. Originally, we wanted to contact officials from the Ministry of Health and Medical Care, but we didn't know that the Minister of Health was shot dead last week..."
"Well, we have to find a way to get out." Liu Ziguang said.
"They are soldiers from the Wendu tribe. They are uneducated and quite barbaric. Don't anger them. Wait until their officers arrive."
After a few minutes, the door opened, and a soldier wearing an emerald green beret walked in. From his epaulettes, he could tell he was a junior officer. He looked at the five people in the room, and suddenly pointed at the man from the medical team.
The black driver shouted loudly, and two soldiers rushed in, dragged the black driver out without explanation, ordered him to kneel down at the door, and shot him in the back of the head. It only took a few seconds from the time he was escorted out to the time he was shot to death.
Several people in the room had earth-colored faces.
The black man's head was blown by a powerful fn rifle, and his body was still twitching. The smell of blood immediately attracted a swarm of flies. The soldiers chatted casually and smoked cigarettes collected from Liu Ziguang's car. The officer was gloomy.
Face, stared at little Arthur twice, and suddenly shouted: "You are from Kaye!"
Little Arthur was frightened. His legs were shaking like chaff. The soldiers rushed over to drag Arthur out. The doctor bit his lip in grief and anger, but did not dare to say anything. These soldiers were too barbaric. They had no idea.
Courage to fight against it.
When he shot the black driver just now, Liu Ziguang had not yet reacted. He did not expect that the government troops would kill a person so easily. Now that he had come to his senses, how could he allow them to beat Arthur to death like a dog again?
.
Liu Ziguang jumped up suddenly, bumped the two soldiers' heads together at lightning speed, hit the officer's temple with a lightning-fast punch, and conveniently pulled the Browning high-power pistol from his waist.
come out.
The soldiers outside realized something was wrong, pushed the door open and walked in. Liu Ziguang raised his hand and shot him right between the eyebrows. There was chaos outside. The soldiers hurriedly pulled the bolts of their guns. Liu Ziguang hid behind the door and fired calmly, one shot at a time.
After the loud gunshots, the soldiers fled. Liu Ziguang walked out, held his right wrist with his left hand, and fired accurately again. Blood splattered on the back of the soldier's head who had already run twenty or thirty meters, and he fell down less than halfway.
Within minutes, he killed all eight soldiers at the checkpoint.
The comrades in the medical team were frightened, but little Arthur became excited and shouted: "r! r!"
Liu Ziguang took out the magazine and checked it. When the bullets were just out, he threw the gun into the bushes, took back his shotgun and put it on his back. He started dragging the corpses into the bushes. After dragging two bodies, he turned around and asked
: "Aren't you going to help?"
The two doctors carefully helped Liu Ziguang drag the body. Fortunately, they were both medical workers and were not afraid of the body. Together, the three of them dragged the soldiers into the jungle and then jumped into the Land Rover.
"Comrade, were you sent by the organization to save us?" a doctor asked.
"No, the people of the motherland sent me here." Liu Ziguang replied.