The train moved forward slowly for an unknown amount of time before finally coming to a stop.
Outside, the sound of someone unlocking a door could be heard. Then, the cargo car's door was pulled open from the outside. A young man with golden hair glanced inside before waving at them.
Bryan led everyone out of the carriage. The sky outside was already dim, indicating that night was about to fall.
After closing the cargo car door, the young man said something in Ukrainian. Bryan responded in the same language before motioning for everyone to get into a nearby truck.
On the dimly lit platform, the truck's headlights came on. The young man drove, Bryan sat in the passenger seat, and the vehicle slowly started moving towards the wilderness.
The blonde young man was likely arranged by Mashkov as well. Everyone remained silent in the back of the truck. Alex had long since changed into ordinary clothes, and his prison uniform had been discarded somewhere along the way.
By now, the sky had completely darkened. They were in the wilderness—there wasn't a single light source around, only pitch-black darkness.
The truck drove on for about another hour in the darkness before arriving at a makeshift airstrip. In the distance, a small plane was parked on the runway, its lights standing out clearly against the dark surroundings.
As the truck came to a stop, the group got off without needing any instructions. Owen jumped down first, followed by Alex, who was tossed out. The group escorted Alex onto the plane.
The truck turned around and left. Inside the plane, Bryan was already greeting the pilot. To Owen's surprise, the pilot was Jim—Bryan's old friend and a member of Sam's security team during that concert.
"Hey, Owen, I heard you guys are about to stir up some trouble. I can't wait…"
Jim greeted Owen warmly. Owen acknowledged him with a nod.
The cabin door closed, the hum of the propeller engines grew louder, and the plane began taxiing before finally taking off into the sky.
Under the moonlight, the scenery outside the plane was clear.
Alex pressed himself against the window, watching as the landscape below changed from land to ocean. His face showed an excited expression—he knew he was finally leaving the U.S. Beyond this vast ocean lay Colombia, where no one could touch him.
"Everyone, to be honest, why don't you join me? You guys are strong—not just in combat, but also in intelligence. I'd like to hire you..."
Alex spoke excitedly. He genuinely believed in their abilities. Even though they were enemies, he had to admit it—it wasn't something ordinary people could accomplish, breaking him out of that dire situation.
But he was met with an awkward silence. Some people didn't even look at him, simply closing their eyes instead.
Bryan remained in the cockpit, chatting with Jim, while the rest of the group stayed quiet.
After ASH gave a few simple instructions, the others began resting.
For the past two days, they had barely slept while planning the breakout. And once they reached Colombia, there would surely be another battle ahead. ASH knew they had to take every opportunity to regain their strength.
Owen also fell into a deep sleep—last night, he had only slept for four hours after working with Hotshot on the explosives. When he woke up again, the plane was already preparing to land.
"Oh ho! Welcome to Colombia~~~~"
Jim let out an exaggerated laugh from the front, his energy seemingly endless. Among the passengers, only Silly White Sweet seemed genuinely excited—it seemed she wasn't joking when she said she thought Colombia was a great place.
Owen leaned against the window, looking outside. The sky was already starting to brighten—it seemed they had flown all night.
Outside was yet another desolate location. The grass beside the runway was waist-high.
It made sense, though. Judging by the situation, this flight had most likely been made without proper documentation. If they had dared to land at Bogotá's airport, the police would probably have cuffs ready for them before they even touched down.
The plane came to a complete stop, and the cabin door opened.
As soon as they stepped out, they saw Sam and Wright waiting for them outside.
"Hey, buddy! Long time no see. I heard your little girlfriend got kidnapped by those damn Colombian cartel guys—hahaha…"
The moment Owen landed, Sam came up and hugged him, while Wright exaggeratedly joked from the side.
Owen wasn't going to bother explaining—he knew exactly how this guy operated. The more he explained, the more relentless Sam would become.
This guy was quite a character—despite his rugged, tough-guy appearance, he had a burning passion for gossip in his heart.
"Hey, Sam, Wright, it's great to see you guys…"
Owen hugged both of them one by one before introducing ASH and the others. Shortly after, Bryan arrived, and another round of warm embraces followed between the old friends.
"Man, we're finally working together again—haha! Rangers forever!"
The last phrase, "Rangers forever," was shouted in unison by several of them. Owen then realized that not only were these guys colleagues, but they were also former comrades from the same military unit. No wonder they were so close—one phone call, and they were ready to risk their lives together…
That piqued Owen's curiosity, and he wanted to ask more, but now wasn't the time.
Two vehicles were parked by the runway. The group boarded them and set off again.
In the lead vehicle, Sam drove while Bryan sat in the passenger seat.
"How's the situation?"
"There's been a change. After the CIA's operation, Brancato Montel has become much more cautious. He's no longer staying in Bogotá—he's returned to his family estate in Cali. That's his territory. Even the government can't touch him there…"
"He moved?"
Bryan frowned. That meant all the intelligence they had gathered beforehand was now useless. But there was nothing they could do—Lady Luck was fickle, and unexpected changes were inevitable.
"I've contacted a friend—his people are keeping an eye on things for us. He's the leader of a Colombian resistance group…"
Bryan remained noncommittal.
"Can he be trusted?"
"He's reliable. I've worked with them many times. These people are staunch Colombian nationalists. They not only oppose the government but also fight against the cartels.
"The Montel family has been expanding their drug business over the past two years, capturing many people—especially in their stronghold near Cali.
"They use local warlords and their own private forces to enslave the captives, forcing them to work day and night in cocaine processing facilities.
"Many people die there every day. Most of these resistance members have personal vendettas against the cartel. Compared to the government, their hatred for the drug lords runs even deeper. So when I asked, they immediately agreed to help…"
Before long, the vehicle arrived at Sam's temporary base, where Owen finally met the friend he had mentioned.
Bridge Kasim, the leader of a small resistance group called "Glory," which had only about fifty members.
Sam made the introductions, and Bridge said, "Shortly after you left this morning, a group of about ten people arrived. They looked like mercenaries. They were transporting a woman—probably your friend. Oh, I took a picture…"
Bridge handed over a photo. Though it was taken from a distance and the facial features weren't entirely clear, the group immediately recognized the woman in the picture—it was Monica.
"Where is she being held?"
Hotshot was visibly agitated. Getting news about Monica as soon as they arrived was a morale boost, but what Bridge said next wasn't good news.
"I don't know. We don't have anyone on the inside of the villa, and we don't know its layout. We can't confirm where your friend is being held. But typically, villas like these don't have private prisons—so she's probably locked in one of the rooms…"
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