"Embassy, this is the rapid response team. We have now arrived at the international airport and are preparing to board the oil executive's private plane to Benghazi."
Captain Jason led the heavily armed Team B from the VIP channel of the terminal building to the airport runway to board the plane. His expression was expressionless during the radio report.
Getting a plane to send quick reaction troops to Benghazi is not that difficult in itself.
But the embassy's superior, the Fifth Academy of the United States, took more than three hours in total. Everyone in Team B was in a bad mood at this time.
Jason was eager to save people, and as he was the captain, his emotions were close to exploding.
Today, he finally experienced the world-leading "super-fast" service efficiency of the Fifth Academy of China when encountering emergencies.
I couldn't get a plane for more than three hours, so I finally spent money to get a private plane.
Simply breathtaking!
"The embassy has received that the rapid response team and the temporary station have been completely occupied. GRS personnel have found Ambassador Stevens and have returned to the intelligence station safely. The follow-up situation is not very optimistic. The attackers followed him all the way and may have attacked the intelligence station.
stand.."
"Fake!"
After listening to the information replied by the embassy, Jason cursed with a livid face and quickened his pace again.
Coming out of the VIP channel is the airport's runway, where several armed pickup trucks and a private plane that can carry more than a dozen people are parked.
On the left and right sides of the boarding ladder, there were two graceful flight attendants wearing short skirts and uniforms.
The price is expensive at first glance!
The country has been in civil war for so many years, the domestic economic system has basically collapsed, manufacturing and agriculture have ceased to exist, and the people at the bottom have become so poor that they have no enough to eat.
In this extremely bad situation, government officials still have such luxurious private jets.
have to say.
This is so ironic!
When they saw Team B walking out of the terminal, the two soldiers who had been waiting not far away walked over casually.
The two of them were also heavily armed, and they were also wearing civilian clothes, so it was hard to tell what kind of troops they were.
In terms of clothing and weapons, they are almost the same as Team B.
The only thing that caught people's attention was their hair. Unlike everyone in Team B who had short hair, even if they had long hair, it didn't go past their necks. Instead, they had eye-catching shoulder-length hair.
Although the U.S. Special Forces are special, they do not care at all about the soldiers' personal appearance.
It even supports advocating individuality and becoming more civilian.
However, for the convenience of movement during missions and the mainstream dress of men in this era, special forces basically do not grow their hair very long.
Not to mention the kind of "hair" that is longer than a shawl, just like a woman's.
Even though they are soldiers, they look so weird. Only people from CAG would do this.
"Are you from CAG? Just you two?"
Jason had been notified by the embassy in advance that people from Delta Force would come to join the emergency rescue team and go to Benghazi for rescue.
"Yes, that's right."
The two long-haired CAGs put their hands on their hips and nodded, their cynical attitude was as denim as their appearance.
"Very good, sucks."
Jason didn't give a good look and walked towards the plane after sarcastic expressionlessly.
The two CAGs looked at each other and smiled. I don't know if Jason was dissatisfied with their style or attitude, or if he was dissatisfied with the way Delta sent two people over.
But it doesn't matter if they don't know, because they don't care.
They came to Libya from the Delta, and they were originally doing a terrible job, the kind that never saw the light of day. They didn't care about a few insulting words.
Therefore, the two people's mentality was that it didn't matter. They wouldn't get angry when they were scolded, and they followed Team B casually.
A group of people walked to the private plane. Jason pointed at the plane and said loudly: "Let's take this plane. Go! Go! Get on the plane quickly."
After speaking, he took the lead and stepped onto the plane.
…
Benghazi.
CIA intelligence station.
The station manager has already seized the time to urgently discuss a detailed evacuation plan with the supervisors of the intelligence stations.
Before the meeting ended, he specifically warned: "Listen, you are all educated elites, and the things you have to do are your jobs, and you can do them.
Now we are not helping others, nor is it purely a work task, but we are responsible for our own lives.
Everything you do from now on, every effort you make, will ultimately directly determine whether you can leave here alive and go back to reunite with your family."
[To be honest, I have been using Yeguo to read and catch up on books recently. I can switch sources and read aloud with many sounds. www. Android and Apple are available.]
After the webmaster finished speaking, he scanned the entire audience to let everyone remember the meaning of his words.
After more than ten seconds, the meeting was dismissed and everyone was dismissed.
The heads of each department came out of the situation room and conveyed the contents of the meeting to their subordinates. More than 30 people entered into a high-tempo working state together, and the entire hall soon fell into hustle and bustle.
Some people pick up the phone and keep dialing.
Contact all available informants to obtain the latest updates on the attackers of a certain Middle Eastern religious group, and pave the way for the subsequent evacuation.
Some people called the middle- and high-level officials in Libya who had been bribed and became partners of the CIA, and tried to get them to send armed personnel to help with the retreat.
Some choose to seek help from their own people.
Make phone calls to various departments in the United States and request the dispatch of military forces for assistance.
Others shuttled back and forth throughout the office building, trying to complete the process of destroying data before retreating within 30 to 40 minutes.
The station manager contacted the February 17th Martyrs Brigade again, hoping to get an escort to escort him to the airport.
The intelligence officers at the intelligence station were very busy, and the GRS team was also not idle, and also entered an intense rhythm.
However, they are busy doing exactly the opposite of what the intelligence officers are doing. They are not retreating but trying to find a way to hold on to this place.
"Everyone come over here."
Tyrone took the floor plan of the intelligence station and spread it out on the table. After Long Zhan and others gathered there, he pointed at various places on the map.
They issued instructions one by one: "I am in charge of Building C, Gibran and Teague will go to Building D, Building A will be occupied by Tantor and Boone, and Building B will be in charge of the State Council personnel.
Oz, Tower 1, sniper observation position, relay updates to other groups at any time, do you understand?"
"Understood!"
"receive!"
Dragon Zhan, Oz and others each replied.
"The enemy may attack at any time. We don't have much time left. Since there is no problem, let's get to our positions and speed up. Go!"
After Tyrone issued the combat order, he picked up a box of ammunition from the side and rushed out of the door first.
While running, he urged loudly: "Run fast and send the ammunition to the roof. The more the better. If there are not enough people, go to the hall and ask for help."