The twilight at Tina Bay glimmered with a bloody sheen. Song Heping was crouching in the easternmost latrine of the fishing village, holding a satellite phone. His nostrils were filled with the salty odor brought by the sea breeze and the stench wafting up from the open pit latrine below. Overhead, a swarm of flies buzzed around densely like bombers descending on a city during World War II.
In the distance, the laughter from the bonfire party mingled with the sound of the waves, occasionally reaching his ears. Meanwhile, he was discussing a grand plan in units of US dollars with Ferrari.
This was the second day of their rest in the small fishing village.
Tomorrow night, according to Nura's plan, they would head to the seaside to board the smuggling group's small fishing boat, load the weapons into the cabin, and then travel south along the coastline to the northern region of Egypt, where someone would be waiting to receive the delivery.
