At this time, Zuwara was just an ordinary seaport town in western Libya, the capital of the later province of Rimgait Homs, and the total population of the population was just over 3,000.

It's a standard Mediterranean fishing port, with shallow water and coral reefs, and it's too small to accommodate large ships.

After all, the local fishery resources were quite abundant, the Mediterranean Sea was as generous to everyone, and there were a large number of natural sponges growing on the bottom of the shallow sea nearby, which was a very scarce resource at that time. At this time, although artificial sponges have begun to enter the stage of mass production, some characteristics of natural sponges cannot be replaced by those artificial products.

Fishermen and sponge gatherers here would sail in rudimentary wooden boats every morning until the sun went down, exchanging the day's toils for money from the merchants who bought them, and living a dull life day after day, year after year.

Although it faces the sea, it does not have abundant freshwater resources, and the groundwater is only enough for daily use, not enough to meet the irrigation needs of agricultural fields. The local environment is not suitable for growing crops such as rice, but it is very suitable for olive trees, so the suburbs of the city are dotted with olive plantations, large and small, which produce hundreds of tons of high-quality olive oil every year, most of which is destined for the Italian market, except for a small amount for local consumption.

The town is not self-sufficient, and most of the residents' daily necessities and food need to be imported from the outside world, and the sponge and olive oil industry has brought many business opportunities and led to the prosperity of the town. However, with the influx of traders and workers, the security situation here has become a bit more complicated. The local Italian police were completely chaotic, and for most of the time they relied on the local clans themselves to deal with the affairs on the ground.

Julian entered Zuwara on a donkey cart carrying vegetables and eggs, and the vendors who drove the cart delivered fresh ingredients to the town's two restaurants on time every day.

The French had carefully disguised themselves in advance, believing that Abdul would not be able to recognize him now when he stood in front of him.

What happened to the Loire made him even more alarmed, especially when Abdul told him that there were Germans in the cavalry, and he was almost certain that his whereabouts had been revealed once again, and that the cavalry should be the target of their search.

Because Julian was not with the guide, the cavalry did not embarrass Abdul's apprentices, and after testifying, they simply returned the captured luggage and camels to the Moroccans. The cavalry didn't even scour the contents of their luggage, perhaps they didn't think the old man looked like a smuggler. Julian knew that if these people were a little more serious, they would have found a lot of things that Europeans carried, but it didn't make sense to say that now, Julian regarded them as another miracle from God.

From the moment he set out from Paris, he had already encountered too many accidents along the way, and he had been very low-key, but for some reason, some troubles would always find him automatically.

Julien was well aware of the importance of the documents he was carrying, and he tensed his nerves as he crossed the French mainland.

He always felt that there was a pair of mysterious eyes behind him watching his every move, but no matter how many times he changed the route and how many methods he learned to get out, he could not escape the tracking of this gaze. He even thought that he might be nervous, probably because of too much mental stress, but when he secretly boarded a fishing boat across the Mediterranean and set foot on the soil of North Africa, this gaze that had always been like an appendage suddenly disappeared, and then he suddenly realized that what he had felt before might not be an illusion.

It was clear that his mission was no longer a secret, and there must have been rumors of it leaking from within the organization. What happened later proved his judgment even more. The local liaison in Nice told him that some of the core members of the organization in mainland France had been arrested, that his identity might have been exposed, that even the organization's underground network in North Africa was no longer safe, and that the French could hunt them down at any time.

The liaison said that if he hadn't been waiting for his arrival, he would have figured out how to evacuate. Eventually, the man gave Julian a piece of paper with a name and an address written on it, and asked him to get to the place within fifteen days to connect with the man on the piece of paper, who would tell him what to do next.

Julian followed the man's arrangement and came to Tu. The border town of Nice hired two local guides to try to sneak across the Libyan border. Everyone knows what happened next, and in the end, Julian arrived safely in Libya.

But as he stepped into a border town on his way to his destination, the indescribable feeling reappeared, and then, as in France, even though he was in the desert wasteland, the feeling of being watched did not diminish in the slightest.

"This is a natural spy, he can feel that someone is watching him, and it is rare to encounter such a keen opponent, and this kind of target is usually the most difficult to deal with." On the roof terrace of a small two-story building in the town of Zuwara, a man in a gray Arab robe, holding a telescope, observes Julian sitting on a donkey cart.

"There's no hard target for me, there's just the difference between life and death. According to the information, this man used to be a sergeant in the French Army, and he had some basic military training, and this kind of target could not pose a threat to me at all. The man who spoke, dressed in an off-white suit and a flat straw hat and carrying a sniper rifle with strips of cloth wrapped around his body, was looking at Julien with a scope, the remarks firmly pressed against the Frenchman's skull.

"No suspicious people were found around, and it seems that no one is following him." The robed man said in a deep voice.

"That's good news, and when he arrives at the predetermined location to connect with Target Three, our mission will be complete." The sniper's gaze turned off the scope, and he picked up a telescope to inspect the surrounding rooftops.

The basic living conditions of the people of Zuwara are not bad, and many families have built adobe flat-roofed houses that are unique to North Africa, but those with good status and economy will add two floors to the roof, and most of the people live in bungalows.

It was the morning, most of the work was going to the workshop or the sea, there were not many pedestrians on the streets, a few Papar women wearing beautiful silk scarves dragging small trailers with water jugs walked through the streets, and a few local idlers sat in the shadows of the buildings chatting, it was a very ordinary day in this North African town. No one would have thought that there was a stranger hiding in the donkey cart in front of him, which was slowly moving down the street, and no one would have thought that there were two other strangers who were now crouching on the roof of a building a few hundred meters away, monitoring the street.

"The Italian military intelligence is going crazy this time, I can imagine the expression on the face of that Major Giordano, this is Mussolini's order! Know, Mussolini! The sniper shook his index finger, mimicking the tone of an Italian intelligence officer.

"Haha, you really have talent in this area, if you don't do this business one day, are you interested in developing in the film industry, I know a few very famous directors." The man in the robe laughed and teased his colleague.

"I don't have that kind of thinking, I love my current job, it's exciting and exciting, and I can get a big salary." The sniper lowered his binoculars and re-picked up his rifle.

"Now that he's reached his destination, he's just waiting for Target Three to appear."

"Notice, there's a car coming from the east, marked by the Italian gendarmerie." The sniper whispered.

"Hell, these guys never run out at this time, hopefully nothing will go wrong." The man in the robe quickly adjusted the focus of the telescope.

"What do we do now?"

"Wait a minute, Target Three could appear at any time." The man in the robe held the binoculars and said calmly.

The round-headed Italian Fiat sedan drove down the street, not very fast, perhaps with the quality of the fuel burned, the engine exhaust pipe slamming and belching black smoke, the body painted a bunch of colorful camouflage, and the radiator on the front of the car was painted with a huge white gendarmerie logo.

Julian was climbing out of the donkey cart when a wooden cage containing a few hens had toppled over on him, so that his Arab robe was now stained with a large patch of chicken feathers and chicken droppings, the smell of which was suffocating in the sun.

"Thank you very much, Allah bless you." Julian shoved a bill into the vendor's hand and shook hands goodbye.

By the time Julian turned around to find the gendarmes, the cart painted in yellow and green camouflage had stopped in front of him.

"Stop." A gendarme shouted at the window.

"Come here, don't look at the side, it's you who called!" The gendarme, sitting in the driver's seat, gestured his finger at Julian.

"Peace be upon you by Allah, sir." Julian suppressed his nervousness and saluted the other party tremblingly.

"I've never seen you, where are you from, do you have any papers?" The chubby sergeant of the Italian gendarme, with his hands on the window, asked loudly.

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Ask for a monthly pass, ask for a recommendation ticket, ask for a click,

This chapter has finally been unbanned.,You can see where there's a point that's forbidden.,

So I don't need to say much about it, as long as everyone still supports me, I will try to finish this book.

Thank you all for your encouragement and support. (To be continued.) )