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Chapter 60: That’s Right, It Was Me!
If one were to assess the current state of this military camp, it would appear that their firepower and equipment were quite complete—everything they needed was there. However, their level of vigilance left much to be desired. Comparing them to the standards of the French Foreign Legion where Wang Ping had once served—or even to some private security companies—the soldiers here fell woefully short.
Of course, this lackadaisical attitude might stem from the fact that no one in their right mind would dare attack a military camp. As such, the soldiers tended to be rather relaxed in their duties.
By the time Wang Ping stealthily tracked the group to the small meeting room adjacent to Colonel's office, the questioning of Gu Lang had already begun.
The interrogation was being led by the police chiefs from Makuyuni and Karatu, with Colonel sitting nearby as an observer. Gu Lang sat opposite the two officers at the conference table.
A soldier stood guard outside the door, making it impractical for Wang Ping to brazenly climb through the window. Instead, he circled around to the back of the building and scaled the wall until he reached the roof.
Since the room lacked a suspended ceiling, the conversation inside traveled clearly through the asbestos roofing tiles, reaching Wang Ping’s ears with perfect clarity.
At this moment, the two police chiefs had Gu Lang’s identification and basic information laid out before them. Skipping the usual formalities, they decided to go straight for the jugular, attempting to catch him off guard with a bluff.
Clearing his throat, Biggs, the police chief from Makuyuni, tried his best to adopt an authoritative demeanor. With a somewhat clumsy command of English, he pointed at Atugo and Kumi, who were seated near the door like timid underlings, and asked Gu Lang, “Do you recognize these two?”
If Gu Lang had indeed been the one driving the car during the checkpoint breach, seeing these two men again would likely have elicited some involuntary reaction. A more timid person might have even confessed outright.
Unfortunately for them, Gu Lang hadn’t been the driver.
With a serious expression, Gu Lang scrutinized the two strangers carefully, staring long enough to make Atugo shift uncomfortably and turn away. Finally, Gu Lang nodded firmly and declared, “Nope, never seen them before.”
The reason he stared for so long was simply to ensure he didn’t mistakenly identify someone. After all, everyone in the room was as black as charcoal, making it difficult to distinguish faces.
You didn’t recognize them, yet you stared for so long?!
Biggs’ face darkened with frustration as he pressed on: “Then explain this—why did you refuse inspection at Makuyuni three nights ago and drive through the checkpoint?”
“Ahem!”
Before Gu Lang could respond, Colonel interjected, “Chief Biggs, I believe your statement lacks substantial evidence. Your subordinates this morning explicitly stated that they didn’t see anyone.”
“Hmph!” Biggs snorted coldly but said nothing further.
Seeing this exchange, Gu Lang shot Colonel a quick, smug grin, earning himself an icy glare in return. Turning back to the officers, he replied innocently, “What checkpoint are you talking about? I have no idea what you’re referring to. I wasn’t even in Makuyuni! Three days ago, I was still on the Maasai Mara plains when your rescue team found me.”
“Ahem…” Colonel cleared his throat again, this time as a subtle reminder to Gu Lang. “We actually found you at Mount Ngorongoro, which is over a hundred kilometers away from the Maasai Mara plains.”
“Colonel, are you trying to protect him?” Chief Biggs couldn’t contain his irritation any longer and snapped accusingly.
“I’m merely reminding you that this man is not a criminal,” Colonel shrugged indifferently, his tone now worlds apart from the warmth he had shown during their initial meeting.
Blake, the police chief from Karatu, watched the exchange thoughtfully, seemingly content to let Biggs take the lead.
“You!” Chief Biggs glared at Gu Lang and spat, “So you’re claiming amnesia, then?”
“Eh? How did you know? I did suffer a high fever and lost consciousness a few days ago—I might actually have amnesia!” Gu Lang exclaimed with feigned surprise.
BAM!
Biggs had intended the comment sarcastically, but Gu Lang’s response turned the tables, leaving Biggs looking foolish. Unable to contain his anger, he slammed his fist on the table and stood up abruptly.
Blake quickly intervened, pulling Biggs back and whispering urgently in an attempt to calm him down.
In the end, the interrogation ended inconclusively. Gu Lang, bewildered from start to finish, was escorted back to his quarters just as confused as when he’d arrived.
Wang Ping, however, now understood why Gu Lang had been detained temporarily. So it was his fault after all?
Still, the persistence of a small-town police force in pursuing a checkpoint violation to this extent was something Wang Ping hadn’t anticipated. What drove them—justice or duty?
As it turned out, the investigation into Gu Lang couldn’t continue.
This wasn’t because Zhang Jianming arrived at the camp in the afternoon, but rather because, during lunchtime, Adit finally cracked.
Even Colonel hadn’t expected things to conclude this way.
While everyone’s attention had been focused on Gu Lang, Davis had faithfully executed the strategy initially devised by the bald-headed superior: “Whether there are dates on the tree or not, give it three good shakes first.” And those three shakes had landed squarely on Adit.
There was no helping it—his two teammates were as soft as overripe persimmons, unable to withstand much pressure.
After being starved for a full day and night, forced to endure countless rounds of “foot massages,” the young and already frail Adit finally broke down completely.
Anything to end the torment—to get food, he would confess to anything. Yes, it was him! He admitted to everything: stealing the car, kidnapping, forcing through the checkpoint. Whatever they wanted to hear, he said it.
When Zhang Jianming arrived in the afternoon, he brought with him a traffic violation fine faxed over from Dar es Salaam. The higher-ups there had swiftly classified Gu Lang’s case as a mere traffic incident, resolving it with a simple fine.
Who could have predicted the outcome?
Both the fine issued to Gu Lang and Adit’s confession left Zhang Jianming with the impression: “I’ve worked here for so long, and for the first time, I realize how truly bizarre your country is.”
According to Adit’s account, the whole thing had happened because they needed to meet up with Scarface and the others on time, but their vehicle had broken down. Spotting Gu Lang’s car, they knocked him unconscious, stole the vehicle, and drove off to rendezvous.
Once he got started, Adit grew increasingly animated.
He claimed that later, Scarface had discovered the theft and wanted to kill Gu Lang to silence him. He even added dramatic details, like how Scarface wouldn’t spare anyone who had seen his face.
Clearly, Adit wasn’t going to shoulder the blame alone. Why should he, when someone else was the ringleader?
Even Gu Lang himself, upon hearing Zhang Jianming recount the story, was left dumbfounded. Listening to it, it almost sounded as if the bump on his head had been staged to fit the narrative.
However, one line in Adit’s testimony stood out: “Please, don’t let it touch my privates.”
Colonel nearly choked on his laughter, thinking that Adit must have been traumatized by Davis’s brutality. But Davis really had gone too far—threatening someone’s privates was crossing a line. No one paid attention to the fact that Adit had used “it” instead of “he.”
Only Gu Lang, hearing Zhang Jianming mention this as a joke, cast a strange glance at his backpack while feeling an inexplicable chill run down his thigh.
In truth, everyone understood the real sequence of events. Gu Lang had nothing to do with the poachers. No poacher in their right mind would livestream their activities. Moreover, it was thanks to Gu Lang that they had managed to capture a poaching gang. No wonder Colonel’s superior had scolded him for meddling.
Even the most reluctant police officer had no choice but to begrudgingly accept the situation.
As for Chief Blake, he didn’t bring up the matter at all. Instead, he completed the handover with the camp authorities and took the three poachers away to where they truly belonged.
In the afternoon, Gu Lang, finally free, prepared to leave the camp with Zhang Jianming and head to Karatu. While getting the car repaired, Zhang Jianming also planned to supervise Gu Lang as he went to the bank to withdraw money to pay the fine.
After all, the ticket had already been issued, and retracting it was unlikely. Besides, it was only a few hundred shillings—a trivial amount neither Zhang Jianming nor Gu Lang wanted to cause further trouble over. With the fine settled, there would be no justification for holding onto the rental car any longer.
As Gu Lang and Zhang Jianming approached the parking area where their off-road vehicle was stationed, they happened to see Chief Blake leading a group of military police escorting Scarface and the others out.
Inside Gu Lang’s backpack, Wang Ping quietly lifted a corner of the zipper, peeking out curiously.
It was painfully obvious that compared to these three, Gu Lang’s past two days had been downright luxurious. As the saying goes, “Comparing people can drive you mad.”
The three prisoners were shackled with handcuffs, leg irons, and chains around their necks, all interconnected. In just two days, they had visibly wasted away. Especially Scarface and the white man—after medical treatment had reduced their swelling, their bodies looked even thinner. Their skin hung loosely, with open wounds scattered across their faces and bodies. At a glance, they appeared twenty years older.
Forced to bend at a 90-degree angle, the trio struggled toward the military truck parked at the entrance, their necks pressed down by the guards. Anyone who moved too slowly was promptly kicked to keep them moving.
“Tsk… tsk tsk,” Gu Lang shook his head sympathetically and turned to Zhang Jianming with curiosity. “What did these three do, do you know?”
“You don’t recognize them?” Zhang Jianming looked at Gu Lang in surprise.
“Nope…” Gu Lang replied, equally surprised. “They’re so ugly—if I’d seen them before, I definitely wouldn’t forget!”
“Sometimes, I really wonder how you managed to escape from the poachers’ guns…” Zhang Jianming shook his head with a bitter smile, unsure whether to marvel at Gu Lang’s luck or lament the poachers’ incompetence.
Inside the backpack, Wang Ping swelled with pride.
No matter how hard you guess, you’ll never figure out—it was all thanks to me!
But then again, what good did this achievement do? No one knew about it, and even if they did, what difference would it make? Would they give him an award?
Damn, depressing!
With no interest left in watching the spectacle, Wang Ping retreated back into the backpack, adjusted himself into a comfortable position, and prepared to enjoy a rare, long nap.
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