Chapter 392: Chapter 392
Chapter 392
2-in-1-Chapter
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She had never imagined that a common soldier would actually strike her.
But she wasn’t entirely brainless.
The raw, burning pain in her face sobered her quickly.
"I-I’m sorry... I was too arrogant just now. Officer, please... please forgive me."
As she spoke, she crawled forward and clung to the squad leader’s leg.
Even she was shocked by her own behavior—that she would stoop so low, like the desperate women from the slums, abandoning all pride just to survive.
It wasn’t even a conscious choice—her body had acted on pure instinct.
"I’m not unreasonable. If you’d been more humble from the start, none of this unpleasantness would’ve happened."
The squad leader pulled his leg free from her grip.
"Gentlemen, ladies—I apologize for the fright. We of the Bolivian Free Alliance Forces—the formal name of the anti-government movement—had no intention of harming you. Please be at ease."
"Officer..." one of the Chilean elites, a portly middle-aged man, nervously raised a trembling hand.
"So... you mean you’ll let us go?"
The squad leader smiled gently.
"Bingo. Correct answer."
The warmth in his voice now stood in stark contrast to how he had just brutalized the noblewoman moments earlier.
The middle-aged man lit up with excitement, rubbing his hands together unconsciously—until realizing it was an inappropriate gesture and quickly lowering them in embarrassment.
"I have money. A lot of it. If you let me go, I can wire the ransom to you right away. Or... or my family can bring the payment in person."
He knew full well that this was a risky move.
There was no guarantee they would honor their word once the money was delivered.
Too many cases had proven that hostage-takers rarely kept their promises—plenty had taken the ransom and killed the victims anyway.
But he had no other option.
He was completely at their mercy, like a slab of meat on the butcher’s board.
If he wanted to survive, he had no choice but to obey.
Refuse, and he would die here and now.
At least paying up offered a sliver of hope.
The middle-aged man was a high-ranking official from Peru, wealthy beyond measure.
If a problem could be solved with money, then it wasn’t really a problem.
"Fine. The ransom for each person is one million eurodollors. Have the money transferred to the electronic banking account I specify. I will order my men to suspend the electronic jamming for three minutes."
"With those three minutes, you’ll have ample time to contact your respective aides and have the funds wired to my account."
"I advise you not to get clever. Three minutes isn’t enough for your people to triangulate your location, but it is more than enough time for us to kill you a hundred times over."
"If any of you tries anything stupid—like this man right here..."
The squad leader suddenly turned and fired a single shot—bang. The man’s head exploded.
He collapsed silently, blood pouring across the floor.
The squad leader walked over, reached into the dead man’s sleeve, retrieved a concealed emergency beacon, and threw it to the ground. He crushed it underfoot with a loud crack.
Screams erupted from the gathered elites, billionaires, and socialites.
"Then all of you would die."
The leader’s tone wasn’t particularly fierce, but it was enough to silence everyone in the room. Not a single person dared make a sound.
"I know who you are—powerful figures from Chile, Peru... and Thailand, of course." As he said this, the leader’s eyes settled on the wealthy woman who had earlier tried to command him with a condescending tone. She shuddered violently and instinctively tried to disappear into the crowd, shrinking back in silence.
Trying to erase her presence.
"One million eurodollors isn’t much for any of you, so I suggest you don’t play games. If this ends badly for anyone, that would be such a shame."
"All right. You may begin."
The leader waved his hand.
The surrounding soldiers lowered their weapons in unison, prompting a collective sigh of relief from the hostages.
With no time to waste, they scrambled to contact their most trusted emergency contacts.
Three minutes passed quickly.
The signal jamming resumed. Those who hadn’t finished speaking could no longer continue the call.
The high-ranking officials and billionaires waited anxiously.
About half an hour later, the leader seemed to receive confirmation of something.
He nodded with satisfaction.
"Excellent. Ladies and gentlemen, you are now safe. However, I would suggest that you remain here for now and wait until we’ve left before making your way out."
One of the wealthy men, visibly shaken and still clinging to anger, said, "I already told my assistant to send the money. You’d better not go back on your word."
The leader didn’t get angry at being questioned.
"Sir, rest assured. Once we’ve left, the jamming will end. At that point, you’re free to call your people and have them come get you."
He glanced around the room. "Unless, of course, you’d prefer to walk back on your own. That’s entirely up to you. Anyone who wants to go right now—be my guest. We won’t stop you."
As he finished speaking, he even made a courteous gesture, extending his arm as if to show them the way.
The gathered elite looked around at one another, uncertain.
No one moved right away.
Several minutes passed before a few individuals finally mustered enough courage to move, stepping hesitantly toward the exit.
As they walked, they kept glancing nervously at the armed soldiers surrounding them.
At the slightest movement from the soldiers, they were ready to retreat.
But their fear proved unfounded.
They made it more than ten meters beyond the perimeter, and not a single soldier made a move to stop them.
In fact, a few soldiers even stepped aside to make room for them to pass.
Once it became clear there was no interference, those few broke into a panicked sprint, racing toward the port as if afraid the soldiers might change their minds at any moment.
Some were so tense they stumbled and fell more than once as they ran.
The leader burst into laughter.
The surrounding soldiers, usually stone-faced, also began to chuckle.
Only the remaining elite, those who had stayed behind, stood awkwardly in silence, exchanging uncertain glances.
"I already told you—if you want to leave, you can go whenever you like. We, the Bolivian Free Alliance Forces, are a just organization. Since we’ve accepted your ransom, we won’t go back on our word."
"But as I said earlier, there’s no need to rush. You’re free to wait until we leave, then have your people come pick you up."
His words and their conduct calmed many of those who remained.
Still, some chose to leave.
It wasn’t that they didn’t trust the squad leader—they just trusted themselves more.
The commander did not stop those people from making their choice.
After all, their goal was never to kill the Chilean and Peruvian elites and tycoons. If that had been the objective, then not a single bullet would have avoided their vehicles during the earlier firefight.
Without sparing them another glance, the commander led his men toward the rear of the port, where Yanan and Floris had been hiding deep inside. They were quickly captured.
"I can give you money too. Please... I’m begging you, don’t kill me."
Yanan’s injuries had already been treated. He always carried an emergency medkit, and since he had nowhere to run when the luxury yacht departed, he’d actually had time to treat himself using the kit.
Seeing that the other wealthy elites had all paid to save their lives, he hadn’t yet sensed the danger. Naively, he still believed these so-called "insurgents" were only here for money.
The commander didn’t even bother to respond. He simply waved his hand.
Immediately, a soldier stepped forward and jammed a signal inhibitor into each of them—one for Yanan, one for Floris.
The moment the devices connected, both of them froze in place like lifeless statues, then collapsed stiffly to the ground.
Two strong soldiers picked them up and carried them away.
Only then did the gathered elites begin to understand.
These so-called "insurgents" weren’t here for them, and they certainly weren’t here for money.
Watching the heavily armed soldiers begin to withdraw, none of the tycoons or officials dared to intervene. They stood there silently, eyes following them as they disappeared into the treeline.
Once the group had disappeared into the woods, the elites didn’t attempt to flee either.
The area was remote and far from any city—walking back was simply not an option.
So they chose to stay put. After all, once the "insurgents" had fully withdrawn, they would no doubt disable the signal jammers, and communications would return.
Sure enough, about thirty minutes later, someone noticed the signal interference had vanished.
The elites lit up with joy and immediately contacted their respective subordinates, instructing them to dispatch vehicles to retrieve them.
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