Sure enough, after pushing all the hostages into the living room, a leader, a black man standing at about six-foot-three in tattered military uniform, spoke to everyone in broken English:
"Hi, everyone, my name is Schiller. We only seek wealth. If you cooperate and come with us, as long as we get the ransom, we will naturally release you."
After Schiller finished speaking, he ignored the cries among the passengers and nodded to his soldiers, signaling them to start loading the hostages into the vehicles outside.
"You can't capture us. We are Americans." Suddenly, a voice rang out among the crowd.
Ye Qiu turned his head to look, and it was James, whom Ye Qiu had beaten up on the plane.
James now wore a terrified expression, cold sweat streaming down his forehead. He could only hope that his identity would intimidate the captors.
If taken into the enemy's base, survival would be uncertain!
"Americans?"
