章 21: Chapter 21: "Image" of the Titan 3G "Merde!"
Seattle Time, July 12, 09:25
On the 11th floor of the Atlas headquarters building, there was a spacious hall capable of accommodating 1,400 people. The hall had been meticulously arranged by staff members dressed in black uniforms, with sofas and chairs neatly aligned. Each armrest table was equipped with bottled water, mint candies, and paper and pens, providing extra convenience for the attendees.
At this moment, the staff were conducting final checks to ensure everything was in order.
09:30
As the four north-facing doors opened, it was as if the floodgates had been released, allowing the waiting reporters and photography teams to pour into the hall. They quickly found their designated seats and areas according to the signs. Before long, the hall became noisy.
However, the host's arrival on stage and the announcement, "The products unveiled by Atlas today will usher in a new era, but before revealing everything, let's first enjoy a short film," gradually quieted the room. As the lights dimmed, an atmosphere of calm and anticipation was created for the pivotal moment ahead.
The screen at the top of the hall lit up. The image first showed darkness, then a jagged flash of lightning illuminated the screen.
A rumbling thunder followed, showing a group of cavemen huddling in a cave, staring fearfully at the storm outside. Cold and hunger, and more significantly, fear of the unknown, caused the cavemen to tremble uncontrollably.
As shadows moved outside the cave, the cavemen became even more frightened. However, these shadows turned out to be their hunting companions returning with food. The group rejoiced and gathered around their successful hunters. Amidst their fears, there was also concern for their companions who had to face dangers.
The perspective then shifted slowly out of the cave, showing a stormy sky. A white pigeon flying in the rain entered the frame, and a close-up of its leg band revealed it was a carrier pigeon. As the perspective merged with the pigeon's view, the audience saw a human city below, transitioning from a primitive forest to a city with walls, houses, and palaces.
The pigeon then flew into a cloud, blurring the view. Emerging from the cloud, the scene transitioned to a modern metropolis with tall buildings. The screen rapidly switched between scenes, from hand-written letters to messengers on horseback, to a photo of Alexander Graham Bell with the first telephone. The cuts became faster, accompanied by increasingly intense orchestral music, featuring wartime radio transmissions and the first mobile phone by Atlas.
Finally, the screen and hall were plunged into darkness.
"Communication, sharing..." The iconic voice of actor Morgan Freeman narrated, "Humans have established social bonds, strengthened communities, met emotional needs, and shared knowledge and culture, accelerating social development. Especially with the proliferation of real-time personal communication tools—phones—connections between people have become closer. So...
Let Atlas lead us into a new era."
The narration concluded, the short film ended, and the hall gradually brightened with warm lights to avoid overstimulating the audience's eyes.
Applause erupted as the hall fully lit up, with everyone eager to learn more about the showcased products.
"Everyone, are you excited?" The host returned to the podium with a smile, saying:
"Our continuous advancement in communication technology at Atlas is closely tied to our current company owner. It is he who provides innovative ideas, and he..."
Meanwhile, Samuel Young, the person being introduced, was backstage, undergoing final checks on his attire and hairstyle. His expression was unusually serious, not due to nerves about the upcoming speech, but rather a subtle sense of unease that was distracting him. This feeling was indescribable, a vague sensation accompanied by fleeting images of laboratories, potions, and discussions with Alexia on research topics.
Notably, satellite images of the Kenya base and Congo featured prominently in these flashes, suggesting a possible future vision.
Pondering this for a moment, Samuel signaled for Arthur to approach and quietly instructed, "Arrange for a few elite investigators to go to Congo to investigate any anomalies. Also, inform Lieutenant Krauser that I suggest conducting the graduation test in Congo."
"Understood, Boss," Arthur nodded and left.
"...Hahaha, and now! Please welcome Atlas's current owner, Mr. Samuel Young!"
Applause resounded once more as Samuel heard the noise outside. He took a sleek, black device from his suit pocket, only 1 cm thick, 14 cm long, and 6 cm wide. Then, he stepped through the side curtain, passing through the flashing cameras and shutter clicks to the podium.
"Thank you all for accepting our invitation and coming to Atlas's headquarters. I personally don't like beating around the bush..." Samuel raised his left hand, revealing the device to the audience, and said directly, "This is Atlas's first and the world's first third-generation mobile phone, the Titan 3G (Altas 3G)."
---
July 16, Noon
Despite the sun shining brightly, the mist lingering in the rainforest had not yet dissipated. Along a relatively wide road in the forest, people dressed simply, carrying baskets of fruits, buckets of water, and various items on their heads, moved along.
Given their customs, skin color, and tropical climate, it was clear this was somewhere in Africa.
At that moment, a battered, rusting four-door car was speeding north, heedless of pedestrians' safety.
Inside the car:
"Merde! (Shit!)"
"Ah!! Putain!! (Ah! Damn it!)"
"Va voir ailleurs! (Get out of the way!)"
The driver cursed, annoyed by people blocking the way. Meanwhile, the blonde passenger in the front seat gripped the car's roof handle, his expression and gaze betraying a hint of concern.
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章 22: Chapter 22: Twists and Turns, Bloodshed
The driver was an irritable Frenchman with a buzz cut, dressed in a Hawaiian-style short-sleeved shirt and shorts, his skin a deep brown. The blond-haired passenger, who looked rather young, was the trainee investigator Ryan.
In terms of attire and equipment, Ryan wore a black lightweight tactical jacket and a matching short-sleeved shirt produced by his family's military manufacturing company. His utility belt was loaded with tool pouches and magazine cases. He wore olive-green cargo pants with multiple pockets, a leg holster, and combat boots. A black backpack was placed in the back seat.
They did not bother disguising their identities since the African country they had infiltrated, the Congo, was in a state of utter chaos.
Territorial disputes between tribes, large numbers of refugees and deserters sheltered by anti-government forces, riots, mutinies, and killings were all commonplace in the Congo.
Despite having rich reserves of gold, copper, iron ore, and natural gas, the Congo remained one of the poorest countries, with a GDP of only $4.2 billion in 1993.
Their air defense capabilities were virtually non-existent, and they hadn't even established an air force. In comparison to Atlas, which spent nearly $2 billion annually to maintain its military, the difference was like night and day.
Given Ryan's skin color and hair, he was easily identifiable as an outsider, so there was no need to conceal anything. The Congo was teeming with mercenaries and criminal organizations.
The day before, Chief Instructor Krauser had announced the "graduation exam": a mission to investigate the Congo, search for anomalies, and survive.
The exam would last fourteen days.
During this time, the company would not provide any assistance; they were on their own.
However, if they found themselves in a life-threatening situation from which they could not escape, the company would deploy an ARS regiment to rescue them without hesitation.
As investigators, luck was considered an intangible skill. Inability to escape independently would significantly impact their final evaluation score for the "graduation exam."
Before they chose their equipment and supplies and boarded the plane, Krauser had one last piece of advice: "Keep yourselves alive; don't push too hard for the sake of the exam."
Even if their overall performance was unsatisfactory, trainees who had undergone six months of training would still be assigned to the most suitable positions based on their résumés. If they were cornered by thugs and chose to fight to the death for the sake of their scores...
While the spirit of dying unyieldingly was commendable, being overly stubborn and inflexible was not.
July 16th, 00:34.
ARS Aviation provided a service from a base in Kenya, flying them over the Congo. Ryan and his classmates parachuted one by one, descending into their respective investigation areas under the cover of night.
02:20.
Ryan successfully landed.
After folding and storing his parachute, he used his personal computer's positioning system to determine that he was in central Congo, still about thirty kilometers from his target, the town of Loja.
The deviation in distance was likely due to wind speed or turbulence encountered during the jump, which had made the transport plane quite bumpy. Regardless, the deviation was significant.
Traveling to the target location on foot was unrealistic, as a vast area of primordial rainforest lay between them. After a brief rest and analysis, Ryan decided to head to the nearest town, Longa.
Perhaps luck had returned, or for some other reason, after walking for three hours, Ryan discovered that this small town of fewer than 40,000 residents had an outpost of a French logging company.
As a result, many French people were in Longa, and there was even a very authentic French restaurant and a 24-hour bar.
People willing to travel across the world and brave such a turbulent environment were likely there for "big deals" and to make a fortune. Intelligence transactions and mercenary services often required a fixed location to "gather."
Where there is demand, there is a market, and the bar named "Romanée-Conti" served as such a place.
Out of caution, Ryan did not order food or drink at the bar. Instead, he rested for a while and inquired with the bartender about any unusual occurrences in the area.
At first, he only received vague responses like, "Maybe, I'm not sure; I'm just a bartender."
Although it was his first mission, Ryan understood the subtext. After paying a $200 "tip," he received information that "Loja will soon, in the next few days, be taken over by anti-government rebels. If I were you, I wouldn't go there. Life is precious."
Unexpected information?
Ryan wasn't sure if the $200 intelligence fee was fair, but he felt it was worth it... probably.
Without this advanced warning about the rebels' movements, he might have been caught off guard, putting himself in serious danger.
It's important to remember that African rebels and thugs often commit heinous acts that defy description.
After a brief rest at the bar, Ryan negotiated a price with a self-proclaimed "Frenchman" who had just woken up from a hangover, to drive him the remaining twenty kilometers to Loja.
And then, the scene shifted to the present.
As he watched the frightened pedestrians outside the window and inhaled the pungent smell of alcohol inside the car, Ryan regretted getting into the Frenchman's vehicle.
Moreover, Ryan himself did not notice that Krauser had once written in his file that he seemed to be "accident-prone."
During past training exercises, any time Ryan's team was involved in a vehicle-related project, incidents such as engine failure, tire blowouts, or loss of control were more frequent compared to other teams.
Krauser didn't worry that Ryan would overthink this since files were off-limits unless absolutely necessary.
"Beep! Beep!"
"Merde! (Damn!)"
"Fiche le camp! (Get lost!)"
After enduring countless car horns and shouts, Ryan finally saw a large gathering of thatched houses on the edge of the town, indicating that he was close to his destination and would soon be free from the crazy driver.
Screech!
The vehicle came to a sudden stop.
Clang! Clang!
The sound of violently opened and closed doors echoed.
Vroom!
The engine roared deafeningly, likely due to some malfunction in the exhaust system or elsewhere.
Ryan, with his backpack now on, stood by the roadside, watching the dust settle. He heard the Frenchman shout once more, "Adieu, l'Américain. Merci pour tes trois billets de Benjamin Franklin~! (Goodbye, American. Thanks for your three Benjamins!)"
Ryan merely frowned and then refocused his attention, scanning his surroundings for a quick assessment.
The area didn't differ much from most parts of Africa, with ubiquitous tin-roofed houses and a scarcity of buildings made of concrete and steel. There were no real roads, and the environment was filthy.
If there was anything unusual, it was that his appearance made him stand out as the most peculiar person there.
Noticing that a few locals seemed "curious" and were starting to converge toward him, Ryan immediately moved away.
However, as he walked and observed, he noticed that these locals walked unsteadily, appeared dazed, and, most disturbingly, were continuously bleeding from their mouths and noses...
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