Rakhatal, Logar, Afghanistan;
21:00;
Rong Xinghe was escorted to an Olive Green Military Tent at the very corner of the village, minutes after they'd reached there. It was simple, with no electricity, whatsoever. Even so, Rong Xinghe could tell it was the fanciest of them all. And at an advantageous location at that.
"Will you be alright, Zahir?", the man who'd arrived there alongside her turned to the woman, his voice filled with nervousness, "I'll be leaving soon. So if you need anything else--"
"Don't bother.", the woman shook her head, picking out a briefcase from her luggage, her tone masculine, as it was supposed to be, "Here. 2,00,000 USD converted to Afghan Afghani. I'll take it from here."
"Ok... okay.", the man, his name Aqib Mitri, said, a little stupefied, "Also, in case you get caught, could you..."
"Not mention your name?", Rong Xinghe cocked her head to one side, raising her brows, "You got it."
