This island isn't particularly large or small. Arriving here for the first time, it's not easy to find a chameleon that can camouflage itself. Establishing good relations with the locals who have access to information can never hurt.
People are sometimes judgmental, especially towards innocent girls. Anna felt that the people of Ronan were good-hearted.
The target is a chameleon. Ronan went out for shopping, buying local clothes, small cans of paint for spray art, tools like machetes, and convenient food items.
Finding a place for dinner, Ronan returned to the Sofia Hotel. There, he saw an old man in the harbor hall, who turned out to be Anna's grandfather, Old Amas, along with the true owners of the hotel, the Amas couple.
This family was friendly and warm, inviting Ronan and other travelers to the rooftop terrace to have tea and chat.
Ronan wanted to learn more about the local news to gain some clues.
Under the starry sky, the bustling harbor town had its own charm, with more people in military uniforms on the streets.
During their off-duty hours, soldiers of local origin could spend a night at home.
A tourist from a big American city spoke up, "There are reports in the U.S. that you're under a terrible dictatorship here on Leina Island."
Old Amas chuckled, "It's only after Governor Galsa came to power that the island truly became peaceful. Colombian drug dealers and Venezuelan rebels no longer dare to mess with Leina Island. Isn't this kind of life good? Must we divide into factions and disturb the entire island to call it democracy?"
He continued, "I've been the harbor master on Leina Island for decades. It's been most stable under Galsa's leadership. He even managed to get cell signal coverage in all residential areas, plantations, and factories on the island."
As the night grew darker, lights illuminated the distant sea, and the silhouette of a cargo ship could faintly be seen. Based on what he saw earlier, Ronan deduced that the cargo ship was docked at the resort construction site's pier.
It seemed like they were starting to unload cargo over there.
Ronan asked, "Why unload cargo at night?"
Anna whispered, "We're short on construction materials here. We need to transport them from Colombia and Venezuela. General Galsa doesn't allow the Obia Group's cargo ships to compete for the waterway during the day. They can only transport goods at night."
Ronan casually remarked, "Your governor seems pretty good."
In conversation with Anna, he gathered quite a bit of useful information. For instance, there were no chameleons on the island, at least not native ones.
Anna had grown up on the island and had never seen a chameleon there.
For example, since the Obia Group arrived on the island, they've been quite secretive, enclosing their area for construction and having minimal interaction with the island's residents.
The Obia Group's construction progress has been slow. After more than two years, the resort and mineral water plant still haven't been put into use.
However, Governor Galsa supports the Obia Group. They invested a large sum of money when establishing themselves on Leina Island, and while the island's people benefited from it, they didn't really care about them.
Anna also discreetly asked for Ronan's phone number.
After chatting for a while, they each went back to their rooms to sleep.
...
Under the cover of night, the resort's pier remained busy.
"Come on, guys, pick up the pace!" a man with a notably large nose shouted in French. "Work faster with your hands and feet!"
The black men unloading the cargo still proceeded leisurely, working with an unexpected sense of relaxation.
Big-nosed Raymond was quite helpless, complaining to his assistant, "Look, this is the future of France."
"Boss, stay calm." the assistant named Sela, an Albanian immigrant, advised. "At least they're tight-lipped."
Raymond pinched his waist and shook his head, looking at the surrounding French mercenaries. He wished he could just grab a gun and make all the black men hurry up.
This ship had come from Venezuela, and there would be another ship from Colombia arriving later in the night.
The ship was packed with people.
If they didn't work faster, it would delay the next ship's entry into the harbor.
The refining workshop was waiting for raw materials to start production.
A stylishly dressed elderly man walked towards the dockside pier, "Raymond, you're getting impatient again."
Raymond turned around, "Master Henry."
"We're French," Henry spoke grandly, exuding an air of ease and elegance. "Not vulgar Brits!"
A clang echoed on the pier. It turned out that one of the black men hadn't secured the cargo net properly. A small crane lifted a wooden cargo box, but it slipped and fell onto the pier, causing wooden boards to scatter and cries of distress to immediately ring out.
Two girls bound at the hands, feet, and mouths were in the box that fell, their limbs broken, their bodies pierced by splintered wood, blood and flesh a gruesome mess.
A twitch appeared at the corner of Henry's eye, "Wasting two precious perfume ingredients!"
He snapped his fingers, and the seemingly ordinary cement ground on one side of the pier suddenly moved. In the light, it became clear that it was a large lizard, nearly two meters long! The lizard rapidly climbed onto the ship, its wide mouth opening, its red tongue flashing. The black men responsible for the cargo nets on the ship clutched their throats and collapsed.
Henry snapped his fingers again. The large lizard crawled back, stopping by his side, before quickly disappearing.
"Get to work properly!" Henry's voice lost its elegance. "Don't make any more mistakes!"
The black men suddenly became more agile, and their work speed increased instantly.
Henry's fair forehead wrinkled into a knot, "Two valuable virgins ruined. Master Grenoye will be furious! Raymond, find two new ones as soon as possible. Don't delay in sending them back to France tomorrow night."
"Yes!" Raymond responded.
Henry elegantly walked towards the resort. A vague figure, blending with the ground, followed him, "Ensure security is tightened. Don't let it happen like last time, where we only realized five people had come in through the gap in the fence. If it happens again, deal with it yourselves, even if it involves killing to cover it up."
As Henry disappeared into the night, Sela asked, "Should I contact them to expedite finding replacements?"
Raymond shook his head, "There's not enough time! The people need to be sent away tomorrow evening. Finding suitable candidates isn't easy. Master Grenoye requires the raw materials for the perfume to be between the ages of 15 and 17 and must be virgins. Black people or those of mixed race aren't acceptable."
He also expressed a dilemma, "Girls nowadays are experiencing their first time at an increasingly younger age…"
Knowing time was tight, Sela suggested, "Look on the island?"
Raymond nodded, "Find two girls on the island, quickly!"
A mercenary leader came over to ask, "Mr. Raymond, what should we do with the injured?"
Raymond responded directly, "Boba, take them to the refining workshop."
...
Late at night, a heavy motorcycle roared through the town roads, gradually approaching the church.
The rider was middle-aged, robustly built, with a flat face that showed no hint of expression.
His name was Barney Ross, a veteran who had participated in the Vietnam War and fought on the battlefields of Afghanistan. He risked his life for money, an experienced and battle-hardened mercenary.
A few years ago, Barney organized an elite group of mercenaries, recruiting several former British and American special forces veterans.
He created a daredevil team that would kill for the right price.
The term "mercenary" speaks for itself, akin to a father and son of hunting dogs, all working for money.
The best-paid and most stable mercenaries were the ones who acted as outsourced contractors for governments.
The government that outsourced the most military operations was, unsurprisingly, the U.S. government.
Barney had collaborated successfully with the U.S. government on multiple occasions.
The motorcycle stopped at the church entrance. Barney pushed open the church doors and entered. The empty church only held one person.
The balding Quiche looked at Barney, "You're late."
Barney's face remained expressionless, "The place you chose was too remote."
Quiche pulled out a file folder and handed it to Barney, "There's an assignment, will you take it?"
"How much money?" This was what Barney cared about most.
Quiche extended two fingers, "After you've reviewed it, give me your response. This figure is attracting many teams."
Barney examined the information in the file folder and couldn't help but exclaim, "Wow, this guy has given you quite the runaround. A supervisor and over a dozen agents killed in action."
Quiche said, "The situation at the California border has changed because of him. A formidable terrorist!"
Barney continued flipping through the pages, making an assessment, "It's a threat to U.S. security."
"Absolutely," Quiche believed this statement wasn't an exaggeration at all. "It's for the sake of national security."
Barney inquired, "Do you have any leads on his whereabouts?"
Quiche explained briefly, "We've used the latest video and image analysis systems, comparing various aspects such as body shape, gait, and habitual actions. We've found some clues. He might have gone to Leina Island."
Barney rubbed his face, "I've heard that name before."
"It's an island ruled by a dictator, where the locals live in tightly controlled circumstances." Quiche provided a simple introduction to Leina Island, of course, from the perspective of American democracy and freedom.
The file folder Barney received contained related information.
Quiche added, "If you can eliminate Governor Galsa of Leina Island and disrupt the dictatorship's power there, I'll apply for additional funding from higher-ups."
The island's location was quite strategic, close to Venezuela, which the U.S. had difficult relations with. Additionally, the Colombian government was undermining Venezuela. Supporting a pro-American faction on the island could lead to significant opportunities.
All these considerations by Quiche were classic CIA methods.
After going through the information, Barney pondered for a moment and said, "Can I make a call?"
Quiche gestured for him to proceed.
Barney made calls to several key members, including Lee Christmas, and then said, "Alright, we're taking this job."
...
As dawn broke, while the sun was still low, Ronan shouldered his luggage, preparing to head into the jungle.
Since Old Amas had the day off, he took a moment to remind him, "Young man, be careful in the forest."
Ronan knew he meant well, "I will."
Anna came out of her room and handed Ronan a card, "This is the hotel's phone number. In case of trouble, find a tree to climb and you'll get signal on your phone easily."
Human kindness always lifted one's spirits, like enjoying the sweetness of candy.
Ronan stood in the darkness but didn't refuse the light and kindness, "Anna, thank you."
A sweet dimple appeared on the girl's face.
Not just Ronan, every outgoing tourist received a card with the hotel's phone number from Anna.
Old Amas would also offer a few reminders, appearing a bit verbose, but normal people could sense the simplicity and kindness of the Amas family.
Ronan followed the main road of the town, walking north. When he reached the central area, he saw the Governor's Mansion.
The mansion covered a vast area. Besides the central three-story white main building, there were barracks on both sides for soldiers' lodging. The large open space in front was a parade ground, holding numerous vehicles and training facilities.
Among them were armored vehicles, the kind equipped with machine guns!
Ronan passed by a side entrance. Through the open gates, he could see nearly a hundred soldiers drilling.
Including the police responsible for maintaining order, there were slightly over a hundred armed personnel on Leina Island.
Leaving the town, the terrain became hilly, covered in coffee trees. During last night's casual conversation, Ronan had heard the Amas couple mention that the high-quality coffee beans from Leina Island were quite valuable.
Passing through the plantation area, the road ahead narrowed, taller trees grew thicker, and the path soon turned into a winding trail.
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