Benghazi.
Temporary embassy.
"Boom~"
The violent explosion was deafening.
With flames and masonry rubble flying, the door of the main building, which had been locked from the inside, turned into fragments all over the ground with this explosion.
A dozen thugs wearing civilian clothes and holding weapons rushed into the hall with a roar.
Raise your gun and sweep around, destroying like a madman.
The last time Long Zhan came over, the splendid and magnificent hall was shocked, but in the blink of an eye, it was beaten beyond recognition and became miserable. .
The hall was completely destroyed and thugs started running around in the house.
Dave, who was hiding in the small storage room next door, was so nervous that he didn't even dare to breathe, even if someone was hanging in front of the gun, he didn't dare to shoot.
Because he knew that as soon as he fired, a large group of people would soon flock to him.
Eric, who hid in the security monitoring room on the other side, saw several thugs walking towards the refuge room where the ambassador was hiding through closed-circuit surveillance.
Immediately used the intercom to remind: "Scott, there is a target coming to your door. Tell Stevens not to move or make a sound."
The thugs from the Islamic religious group who rushed in did not know the details inside the consulate.
They just focus on destruction and killing.
As long as they didn't make any noise and didn't let these thugs know that anyone was inside, they would rush in without conducting a detailed search and search, and their lives would not be in danger.
It turns out.
Eric's reminder was right.
The five thugs who were walking along saw the tightly locked explosion-proof door and kicked it several times. When they found that it couldn't be kicked open, they left cursingly.
Without knowing whether there was anyone inside, I didn't insist on breaking open the door.
Ambassador Stevens, Information Officer Chris and DSS Team Leader Scott, who were hiding inside, had their hearts in their throats when the thugs kicked down the door.
Especially the ambassador, who had never participated in actual combat, was so nervous that his clothes were soaked through.
As the kicking on the door stopped and the thugs left cursing without making any further moves, the three of them finally breathed a sigh of relief.
The crisis is temporarily over, but it is not over.
…
9:50pm
CIA intelligence station.
"Amao, we need your help. We don't have anyone who can communicate with the February 17th Martyrs Brigade. Come on, get in the car with us."
Tantuo patted Amao, who was watching the show, and motioned to follow him to the convoy in front.
"What? Tanto, are you mistaken? I am not a combat interpreter. I don't know how to use weapons." Amao, a Libyan, was a little confused.
Tantu didn't offer any persuasion, he pulled out his pistol, loaded it, turned off the safety, turned the gun over and handed it to Amao.
"What? What does this mean?" Amao was even more confused now.
"Take it, you are the combat interpreter. We need your help. Go put on the helmet and vest. We are about to leave, hurry up."
After Tanto finished speaking, he turned and left.
Amao stood there for several seconds holding the gun, and finally ran back to the house in a slight panic to put on a body armor and a bulletproof helmet.
Boone had been standing next to the car, his eyes fixed on the consulate in the distance, shaking his head and sighing: "It's been so long, if we don't leave again, that guy is dead."
"We can't wait any longer."
Tyrone gritted his teeth and quickly walked into the office building to find the webmaster.
"What? You can't go? Do you want to betray me? Get the hell out of here..."
The webmaster was on the phone with someone, and the content of the conversation was obviously not ideal, so much so that the webmaster couldn't hold back his emotions, and he yelled out of embarrassment.
"Stationmaster, we don't have much time."
Tyrone didn't care whether the stationmaster was in a good mood or not, he would yell at the door as soon as he came in.
"Wait a moment."
The webmaster turned around and said something impatiently, and then started arguing with the person in the conversation.
"There's no time, do you understand?" Tyrone continued to urge him tirelessly.
"Stop arguing, I know? Wait for my instructions."
The webmaster was on the verge of collapse and yelled at Tyrone.
"I think it would be more appropriate to at least let us go to the scene first and understand the specific situation before you decide whether we intervene."
Tyrone spoke patiently and in a consultative tone.
"What if you are ambushed and trapped? Who can save you? Who here can save you? Should I go?" the stationmaster asked.
Tyrone was speechless when asked again, and could only retreat outside helplessly.
…
Stuttgart, Germany.
U.S. Africa Command.
"Contact all special operations teams, I want them to mobilize as soon as possible and gather at the Signella base in Italy."
"Let the F16 fighter jets be on standby on the runway."
"Give me a military intelligence report within 5 minutes. I need the latest details."
"How long will it take for drones to monitor diplomatic stations?"
…
As the jurisdiction of Africa Command, Libya's command center is also very busy at this time, and all units have entered a high-pressure state.
Various reports from superiors and subordinates are constantly flowing here.
Even in the White House, which is tens of thousands of kilometers away, the president has learned about the attack on the diplomatic station and said that he will continue to pay attention to the matter.
At this time, almost half of the US military and political units were involved in the attack on the diplomatic station.
In the nearest CIA intelligence station, the GRS team, the only one with rescue capabilities, was still waiting helplessly.
"Ah——, Fake, we have to act, we can't wait any longer."
Teague was impatient with waiting and started shouting at the top of his voice.
"Perhaps it's time for us to have a holy war." Tanto said meaningfully.
"You just wear shorts to fight the Holy War? Your Lord may not like it." Long Zhan teased.
"What are we still waiting for? Waiting for dawn or waiting for everyone to die?" Teague asked everyone loudly.
Long Zhan curled his lips and said, "Waiting for orders."
At this time, Tyrone came out again and said very helplessly: "He wants to send the February 17th Martyrs Brigade again, but it seems that they are unwilling to go, which makes him feel very good."
"He doesn't want to expose our existence and is worried that the intelligence station will be attacked, haha." Boone sneered.
"Seriously, if the ambassador had ordered pizza, it would have been delivered by now, but we are still here and we are not even as good as delivering pizza." Teague laughed at himself.
Everyone in GRS is talking here, but it's all just lip service, and no one dares to act without authorization.
Long Zhan is the only special case in the team. He knows the entire situation and subsequent developments, and also knows where the key points are, but he can still maintain a calm attitude.
The difference between going to the rescue later and going to the rescue earlier is actually not that big.
It would even be better to go later.
