135: Chapter One Hundred Thirty-Four: A Great Harvest 135: Chapter One Hundred Thirty-Four: A Great Harvest The room Gao Yang and his group entered looked like a study or a drawing room of some kind.
It went without saying that the decor was super luxurious.
The key thing was that guns were placed everywhere in the room, and most of them were gleaming gold.
The table displayed handguns; the wall was adorned with a green flag, flanked by two long Arabian Scimitars.
Beside a marble statue of Gaddafi stood a gun rack with four shining gold rifles, seemingly at the disposal of Gaddafi’s statue.
And on a wall hung a large deer head, beneath which sat a double-barreled shotgun on a rack.
The room, although a bit incongruent, was undeniably the epitome of extravagance.
There were also many bottles of water on the room’s table.
Simultaneously, the group hustled to the table and each grabbed a bottle to drink from.
Gao Yang and his team had been without water for over a day and were dying of thirst.
As Glolov was drinking, he suddenly put down his water bottle, took a glance around, and immediately said, “I can guarantee this is Gaddafi’s room.
No, what I mean is, he’s definitely been here recently.
Let’s search carefully, there’s sure to be an escape route.”
Cui Bo, who was tilting his neck drinking, pointed towards a small door in the room, then set down his empty bottle and picked up another one before saying, “There it is, an emergency exit sign, no need to search.
Let’s get moving, but could I take a few guns with me?”
Greed is the original sin of humankind.
Despite the precarious situation, and the fact that none of them had any spare space, Gao Yang found he couldn’t bear to leave the treasure-filled room empty-handed.
Aside from a gleaming Browning 1935 high-power handgun on the table, there were also what looked like gun cases.
Gao Yang knocked all the cases onto the table and immediately opened one.
Inside the case was a golden, ivory-gripped M1911 pistol with intricate engravings.
Gao Yang had an absolute weakness for the M1911.
“Can’t take too much, it can’t affect movement, just pick favorites, whatever you take is yours, come on guys, quickly.”
After speaking, Gao Yang thrust the handgun into his waistband.
Without much hesitation, he ran to the wall to grab what looked like the most ordinary double-barreled shotgun.
Even though the double-barreled shotgun only appeared to be an old-fashioned, unadorned side by side, different from the other flashy guns, Gao couldn’t help it—he liked double-barreled shotguns.
And he knew that anything in Gaddafi’s room was bound to be quality goods, seemingly plain or not.
Jinfang’s choice was one of the scimitars hanging on the wall.
The scabbard was incredibly ornate, studded with various gems, and just looking at the sheath told you it was valuable.
But Jinfang chose the scimitar purely for his love of blades and cold weapons; he hadn’t considered its monetary value.
Glolov made a beeline for the sculpture of Gaddafi.
The gun rack beside it held an assortment of AK family rifles.
Picking up a glittering gold AK47, Glolov exclaimed, “Kalashnikov’s signature!
This one’s mine.”
Frey didn’t know what to pick and shouted anxiously, “What’s the most valuable?”
Hearing this, Jinfang casually grabbed another Arabian Scimitar from the wall and tossed it into Frey’s hands, saying, “Just look at all these gems to know it’s valuable, take it.”
Cui Bo yelled to Glolov, claiming the AK74U for himself, and then focused on opening every gun case on the table, shouting out with each find.
“A Makarov pistol, who wants it?
A Walther PPK, damn it, I want this one.
This is a CZ75, studded with a lot of gems, Frey, you take it.
Another Browning High Power pistol, forget it, whoever wants something just take it.”
Cui Bo hesitated between the Browning High Power and a Walther PPK pistol, while Glolov pocketed a Makarov and casually placed the AK74U he was holding for Cui Bo in front of him, and Lee Jinfang took one of the Browning High Powers.
As for Frey, he chose the CZ75 with a grip full of emeralds.
Seeing that everyone had made their choices and Cui Bo was still undecided between the two pistols, Gao Yang shouted, “You can’t take both, idiot, let’s go.”
Upon hearing this, Cui Bo instantly stuffed both guns into his pockets and exclaimed loudly, “Let’s go, follow me.”
Just then, Frey suddenly pointed at an open album on the table and cried out in astonishment, “Look, isn’t that the American woman in the photo, what’s her name, right, Rice!”
Gao was in no mood to look at any album and urged anxiously, “Let’s go, haven’t you had enough of Gaddafi’s photos?”
Even though Gao Yang and the others showed considerable restraint, the time taken to grab things was just over a minute, not too long and still within an acceptable range.
The items they took were indeed cumbersome, but did not severely affect their mobility.
They really wanted to sweep the room of all its valuables, but doing so would definitely mean leaving behind a lot of combat supplies.
With the consensus that life is more important than money, they could only pick up a couple of their favorite things.
Cui Bo opened the small door marked with an escape route in green font, which led to a large bathroom.
In the bathroom, close to the entrance, there was a beautifully decorated square wooden panel, about two meters by two meters with some Arabic writing on it.
“Here it is, it says so right there,” Cui Bo said upon spotting the panel.
After that, Cui Bo looked around and then said indignantly, “Damn it, the faucets are gold, a gold toilet, gold bathtub, Gaddafi might as well wear a golden robe.
There must be more valuable things in the other rooms, now all going to the opposition.”
Gao pointed his shotgun at the panel, and after Lee Jinfang pulled away the panel to reveal an opening, a hole appeared, descending about ten meters deep, with an iron ladder leading to a spacious passage below, which was also lit.
Finally discovering the passage entrance, Gao Yang immediately said, “Let’s go down first and talk later, but we need to be careful, there could still be people inside.”
Lee Jinfang, still serving as the fire support gunner, went down first.
Holding a gun in one hand and the ladder with the other, he descended quietly into the passage.
After looking left and right, he gestured that it was safe, and then Gao Yang and the others followed him down the ladder into the underground passage.
Once in the passage, Gao Yang glanced both ways and realized that there were iron ladders leading up every so often.
It seemed Gaddafi had prepared numerous escape routes for himself, which was to be expected.
After years of opposition to the United States and having been bombed before, it would have been surprising if he hadn’t arranged multiple escape routes for himself.