After the sun came out, the temperature on the Gobi began to climb rapidly, the blue sky was like a wash of clouds, and the scorching sun was mercilessly steaming this barren land.

Abdul and Basaimu began to pack up their belongings for the camp, as he had told Julian, they had a lot to go today, so time seemed precious.

They only have this little time in the morning, after which the land is no longer suitable for biological activities, and even the smugglers will not choose to rush in the afternoon unless they have to do so or are well prepared, and Allah will punish those fools who ignore the laws of the Gobi.

They must arrive at their predetermined resting place by noon, where they will rest and wait until the sun is about to set again, and if the night is bright, they can march until midnight and finally reach the predetermined desert oasis to rest and camp.

Abdul is an experienced guide, he knows all the water sources and camping spots on the route, and he knows how to allocate the time to get there.

North Africa is not a barren land of yellow sand and dry bones, but in fact there is a large area of land suitable for human habitation, not only with a lot of tropical vegetation, but also a lot of wildlife that thrives here.

The soil and climate are ideal for the cultivation of olives and grapes, so it was once the most important overseas territory of the Roman Empire and a tourist destination for the wealthy, the Romans ruled the land for 600 years, and the magnificent relics of that great empire can be found everywhere.

But that is now a thing of the past, and the once ornate temple premises are now a haven for the Papal shepherds.

The Gobi may seem lifeless, but in fact it retains the richest population of poisonous creatures in the world, and the ignorant traveler will be attacked by all kinds of snakes, insects and poisonous ants if he is not careful, and the slightest bite can kill a person in a matter of hours.

Following Abdul's admonition, Julian tapped the surface with a wooden stick a few times before picking up the blanket to avoid any unfriendly little things hiding inside. It wasn't until he found out that there was nothing unusual that he picked up the blanket and put it over the back of the beautiful Arabian horse.

It was a four-year-old mare with a beautiful chestnut fur, a well-built mane scattered around its elegant neck, and a pair of bright and clear brown eyes that shimmered with spirituality. Julian spent only fifty pounds on a sudden. The Nice horse dealer bought her, thinking he had taken a big advantage. In fact, most of the horses of this age have changed owners several times, and it is difficult to sell them at a good price in the market.

Julian liked his new mount very much, but he also knew that once he left North Africa, he simply did not have the energy and conditions to raise such a good horse, so he had made a pact with Abdul that when he reached his destination, he would give him Rita, which is the horse. Julian said that if Abdul could not raise his own home, he would also ask him to find a good home for this beautiful animal.

The horses and camels had to be unloaded from all their mounts and saddles at night camp, so that the horses and camels could have a better rest, and although the whole process may seem like a bit of a hassle, it was often the details that could make the difference between success and failure.

Julian picked up the beautifully decorated Arabian saddle and placed it securely on the blanket, then bent down and secured the cowhide belly belt to the horse's belly with the help of Basaimu. Tightening the belt of his chest strap and buckling the brass lock, Julian patted Rita's shoulder muscles lightly, he was very satisfied with his work.

"Are you all ready, Mr. Julian?" Abdul rode on his horse and held the reins of a camel in his hand.

Julian turned over on his horse's back with his stirrup, raised his hand to straighten the Arabic turban on his head, and nodded to his guide.

"Cluck," Basaimu led the other camel and let out a call of drive. The Moroccan children were at the forefront, tall dromedaries carrying racks full of supplies, humming and chirping. The small caravan left the campsite and embarked on a new journey under the scorching sun.

But what Julian and his party didn't know was that almost half an hour after they left, a group of uninvited guests stepped into their camp the night before.

"Yes, they are right." A German sergeant in a sand-yellow tropical uniform picks up a hand-rolled cigarette butt from the extinguished fire.

"Search the surroundings and don't miss an inch of land." The speaker was an army officer, also wearing a sand-yellow army tropical uniform, with sleeves rolled high to his elbows.

"Yes, second lieutenant." The non-commissioned officer saluted, and then began to arrange the division of labor among his subordinates.

"Ensign Hanst, they haven't been gone long, and if we speed up the march, we can catch up with them before noon." French Army Second Lieutenant Loire crouched by the fire and stretched out his hand to carefully test the temperature of the ashes.

"You should be glad they used tea instead of urine to extinguish the fire, second lieutenant." Hanst teased with a laugh.

"I was given the order to monitor and confirm the safe entry of the target into Libya, and to keep a distance from the target to prevent detection by this cunning rat without further orders from our superiors." The German second lieutenant took off his helmet with a sand-colored helmet and brushed the brown hair on his forehead.

"What is the identity of this person, is it necessary to send so many of us to track down?" The French lieutenant stood up and asked with a depressed expression.

"When it comes to state secrets, we only obediently obey orders at our level." Second Lieutenant Hanst buckled up his steel helmet and pulled a cigarette case out of his pocket.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Second Lieutenant Loire, and if I can please go to the city for a few drinks after this operation is over?" Hanst opened the cigarette case and raised his hand to the French ensign.

"Thanks, that's great, I know a restaurant where the owner makes his own brandy, and the dishes taste good." Loire pulled a cigarette out of his cigarette case and put it in his mouth, then pulled a lighter out of his pocket.

"There are still three or four days to go from here to the border, and at the current speed of the target, it will not exceed five days at most, and by then our mission will be completed." Hanst leaned over the flame of Loire's hand-held lighter and lit a cigarette.

"Report to the second lieutenant, everything has been searched, nothing out of the ordinary, only some food scraps and wrappers have been left on the target." The sergeant ran over and reported.

"From here, the next possible place to rest is," Hanst pulled out his notebook from his breast pocket.

"The well of Miscoktri, also known as the Loire Spring," Hanst turned his face to look at the French captain.

"What are you watching me do, that's not my name." The French ensign said it had nothing to do with him.

"They're supposed to be there until noon, we can't wait here stupidly, maybe" Hanst flipped through his map bag and pulled out a map from it.

"We can go around to them from the west and rest at the Shariq Oasis, and if nothing else, they will follow the road to Maatatlán, which is the safest place to spend the night around."

Second Lieutenant Loire was well acquainted with the surrounding terrain, having served here for five years as a junior officer of the Foreign Legion, and knew every secret smuggling route here. France is not unaware that these Arabs are smuggling wantonly, but it is really involved in a bunch of entanglements of interests, and in order to maintain stability within the colonies, many times it can only choose to ignore these issues.

"Very well, do as you say, sergeant, order all the troops to assemble, and we will set off for Shariq at once." Hanst gave the order loudly.

The platoon-sized unit consisted entirely of cavalry, more than sixty percent of whom were Germans, and the rest were all local soldiers of the French Foreign Legion.

In addition to their knowledge of the surrounding terrain, the French can avoid a lot of trouble during the mission because they are familiar with the local customs and language.

Although Hanst was only a second lieutenant, he had a lot of combat experience. He fought on the French front as an Waffen-SS assault squad leader, and when the 1st SS Panzer Division was disbanded, he was selected by the Army for his outstanding performance on the battlefield, and after passing the examination and examination, he became a member of the Wehrmacht.

"I don't know exactly what the plan of my superiors is, but I believe that the task at hand is very important for the Empire." Hanst mounted his mount and said to Loire with the reins of his horse.

"I don't know where you got your confidence, although I hope so, second lieutenant, but no matter how you look at the target, it doesn't look like an important person." Loire lowered the collar of his white cap and straightened the curtain behind it.

"Trust me, you can't be wrong, this rat must be more important than we thought, otherwise they wouldn't have sent me to take care of this job." Hanst took the whip from the sergeant, tapped the brim of his hat slightly, and then urged his mount forward.

"Keep up!" Loire drank at the cavalry of the Foreign Legion behind him.

The cavalry of the Foreign Legion, dressed in tawny uniforms, led by the sergeant major, followed their ensigns and began to gallop forward across the flat Gobi Desert.

PS: This is the full chapter, the second chapter of the genuine subscription test, I won't judge based on the results of just one chapter, or that sentence, everything speaks with data.

In addition, at the end of the month, many books began to frantically brush votes, this book needs everyone's support, if you have a vote, please vote for the resurrection,

Thank you. (To be continued.) )