"East entrance. Everyone. Now, now, now!" Xi Yuan commanded into his earpiece, a wave of unease surging through his heart. The Hybrids immediately heeded the orders, of course.
Meanwhile, Aftaab Ali—or more accurately, Ahmed Ali Fadhil—moved quickly, a sense of apprehension tightening in his chest. While he felt a fleeting relief at having outwitted the soldiers from Xanvoria, he knew it was only temporary. Had those men hailed from any other country, he would've had a victorious smirk on his face. But Rong Xinghe wasn't just anyone—she had a notorious reputation for flipping the situation at the last moment. He couldn't allow himself to relax until he was safely out of Afghanistan, and he knew that all too well.
His shoulders loosened slightly as his gaze fixed on the helicopter, now barely fifty meters away. One more surgery, and he'd be completely off the grid—impossible to track, impossible to catch. No one would ever be able to reach him again. Ever.
