Chapter 8: 8 Private Airport

In the southern part of SD, Ad-Damazin is a small town that extends deep into the grasslands.

Joe Ga had completed the procedures in advance and ended his career as a contract worker. After settling his wages, he became a free man completely.

From this moment, if any problem arose, it would no longer be related to the labor service company or the employer.

Joe drove his own pickup nearly 500 kilometers and finally arrived at the picturesque small town of Ad-Damazin, built beside a lake.

The town wasn't very large, but due to its geographic location, it was considered one of SD's most premium spots and thus attracted a subset of foreign tourists.

No one really knew if those people were merely tourists; Joe thought it rather odd that anyone would want to see Africa and choose this place over others with better amenities.

Joe's destination was a private airport in Ad-Damazin, where he could rent an airplane and then directly enter southern SD.

In SD, Joe had made quite a few friends, and the owner-cum-pilot of that private airport was one of his better relations; Joe had helped repair an old 'Senna C-172A' light aircraft, preventing the owner from bankruptcy.

He drove his pickup right onto a crude cement runway full of cracks and, upon seeing a C-172A parked at the end of the runway, he checked the time and complained about his African friends' bizarre concept of time before driving the pickup next to the plane and starting to unload the cargo himself. He packed the aircraft's welded luggage rack with wooden crates, each containing 25 AK74 rifles.

The storage design was Joe's own work, with two crates side by side at the bottom of the rack; tightly secured, they still left two-thirds of the space free above them.

This greatly facilitated the pilot transporting personnel and materials. As for safety, that hardly factored into the pilots' minds in Africa—they were the kind who could fly so low with an aircraft that they could decapitate giraffes, and making money was what mattered most to them.

Compared to taking tourists for a spin over the savannah, shuttling back and forth between North and South SD to earn some freight money or the difference in price of local products was far more profitable.

It wasn't until Joe had his luggage all settled that two security guards wielding AK47s came running over, shouting all the way.

Joe ignored them. They were just for show, nephews of the boss, and the AKs they held had been gifts from Joe.

The two black youths rushed over and recognized Joe.

One burly fellow, missing his front teeth, saw Joe and happily slung his gun over his shoulder and then, yelling excitedly, rushed over to hug Joe's waist and spun him around.

Joe, with one hand supporting the toothless guy's chin to prevent any harassment, pointed to his pickup bed and said, "Zhabu, put me down. There are gifts for you guys in there. I heard you all have kids now, so I bought some clothes and shoes for the little ones."

As he spoke, Joe gave a kick to the buttocks of the other young fellow, whose palm was missing half its surface; he scolded, "Nas, don't mess with my things. Everything for you is in the bed of the truck."

Nas's palm had been split longitudinally between the middle and ring finger by a knife in a wartime incident during his childhood, leaving him three fingers that could grasp objects.

Kicked by Joe, he did not get angry, but when he came across a pair of white sneakers, he shouted in surprise and without a second thought began to fit them onto his feet.

The toothless Zhabu wasn't in such a rush. He scratched his head and said to Joe, "My uncle probably hasn't woken up yet; he got drunk yesterday and went to a woman's house in town. Should I go get him?"

Joe Ga stepped on Nas's foot, who was wearing new shoes, making him let out a heart-wrenching scream as if it wasn't just the shoes being abused, but him as well.

After hitting Nas hard on the back of his head, Joe Ga dragged two boxes full of bullets out of the car's trunk and said irritably, "Take my car to deliver the stuff back, and by the way, bring that old coot Sayram over here.

We had agreed to depart at 10 a.m. I hit the road last night, and that old man is still out there drinking and fooling around with women, does he even want to make money?"

Nas hopped into the car and drove away from the airport in a cloud of dust.

Left standing there, Zhabu grinned and said, "My uncle entertained a few white-skinned scientific expedition members last week, made a good chunk of change, so he decided to take half the month off.

If it wasn't for you, I reckon he wouldn't sober up for the next three days."

As he spoke, Zhabu voluntarily bent over to help carry the two boxes of ammunition into the luggage rack, then, still grinning, looked at Joe Ga and said, "Hu Lang, need any help?

I've got nothing to do around here, and the wages my uncle pays are pathetic. Let me work for you.

I'm strong, and I know how to shoot..."

Joe Ga patted Zhabu's shoulder and said, "Don't get any wild ideas, what could you do with me? I don't even know what I'm supposed to do next.

"Just stick with your uncle and learn to fly a plane, when he drinks himself to death one of these days, you'll be the ace pilot of Ad-Damazin. By then, you'll be able to take a couple more wives."

Zhabu shook his head a bit disappointedly and said, "I'm scared of heights, I get dizzy and want to throw up every time my uncle takes me up in a plane.

Ever since I vomited all over a female tourist's chest, my uncle has never let me up in the sky again."

Joe Ga burst out laughing at this and said, "Then you really deserve it. I feel sorry for you, but I don't have any suitable work for you here." Searᴄh the Nôvel(F)ire.nёt website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Assessing the still sturdy-looking Zhabu, he shook his head and said, "It's a shame you look too honest. If you had the build and looks of Wild Bull Arun from the town, or the skills of Hyena Karman, I might be able to offer you some temp work."

Zhabu was taken aback, then cautiously moved closer to Joe Ga and whispered, "You want Wild Bull Arun and Hyena Karman? Is the place you're going to dangerous?"

Joe Ga nodded and said, "Exactly, so I said my work isn't suited for you, after all, you've got a wife and kids."

Concerned, Zhabu said, "But can you really handle it alone?

Should I go call Wild Bull Arun and Hyena Karman over? Arun's out of a job and Karman has run into some trouble recently. If you need help, as long as the pay's good, they'd be happy to oblige."

Having visited Ad-Damazin many times, Joe Ga was actually not too impressed with Wild Bull Arun, but he'd always admired Hyena Karman. Surprised by Zhabu's earnest look, he asked, "Karman's in trouble? What kind of trouble?"

Seeing Joe Ga's interest, Zhabu turned and ran, shouting over his shoulder, "Wait here, I'll go call them over. Remember to give me a little finder's fee."