What do they do? That's the big question.
Right now the crew's got only two paths in front of them, wait quietly for rescue, or wait noisily for rescue.
Without some real leverage, a few people even wanted to blast out Weibo posts to whip up public pressure.
The oldest person in the hotel was Director Sun, already crossing from knowing destiny to the doorstep of sixty. He kept calling and calling.
The highest status belonged to Producer Wu, an Alibaba Pictures producer and founder of a studio. He's a bona fide heavyweight.
The most rattled was the cameraman everyone called Xiao Long. He clutched phone notes and babbled, "Lake Titicaca sits on the border of Bolivia and Peru, and borders are usually no man's land…"
"Xiao Long, sit and breathe," Cai Jia said, handing him a water. Nerves were already frayed. They couldn't feed the panic.
She was the coolest head on the island, the gamer girl who might've just seen too many battles on screen, or just had a calmer nature. She kept one eye on Bolivian headlines and the other on waves of worried messages from friends.
She'd posted to Moments about shooting on Isla del Sol. Once the unrest blew up, frontline reports flowed across the country. Her friends' worry flooded in.
In a real emergency all those "you ok," "is it dangerous," "are you safe" pile up. She didn't feel comforted. She felt like she was comforting them.
She shifted focus to neighbors, Brazil, Peru, Chile, to see if any friends there could help.
Her phone rang. Instinct said hang up. She didn't want to talk. She wanted to type.
Caller ID: Captain.
She hesitated a beat, stepped onto the balcony, and picked up.
The first line on the other end, "Jia Jia, you're filming on Bolivia's Isla del Sol?"
"I'm not in danger for now. La Paz and Sucre are pretty far from the island, Captain, don't worry," she reported first.
"Good. Don't panic. If you can, try to gather Chinese tourists on the island. The embassy's boat should arrive inside two hours. Don't rush," Chu Zhi said.
"Huh? Ok, got it." She swallowed her questions and agreed out loud.
"Flying out of Bolivia's tough right now. They've got some toys in place that'll hit anything in the air. Go by road to Chile, then fly home from Chile. Is that acceptable," Chu Zhi asked.
"Totally," she answered on reflex.
"Take it slow. I'll wait in Chile. We'll all get home safe."
"Ok."
Time was tight, so they didn't chat. As soon as they covered the serious stuff, he hung up. The e-sports girl stared at her screen, half ready to say more to an empty line.
She walked back into the lounge. Everyone still looked grim. She didn't know how to start.
"I've got news," she raised her voice and pulled every eye her way. "Captain… Chu Zhi just called. He said not to worry. The embassy will send a boat within two hours. It's arranged. We'll head straight back to China."
A bolt from the blue. Brains stalled.
"Chu Zhi, the Asian grass of the field one," someone blurted.
"Chu Zhi, the guy with over ten million album sales," another added.
After a beat, the two firm questions came from Zhang Xiaoqian and Producer Wu.
It's world grass, not continental grass, she grumbled in her head, but she nodded on the surface.
Just the name Chu Zhi settled people. Everyone looked at Director Sun, since what he'd said earlier didn't match.
"I called the embassy twice. According to staff, with the protest army's push, even tomorrow or the day after, it'll be hard to organize an effective evacuation," Director Sun said. "The second call was answered by the embassy's counselor. I'm not mistaken."
His tone was sincere. His face said he wasn't lying. Besides, there's no upside to lying about this.
So who do they trust? Fog rolled back in.
Zhang Xiaoqian glanced at Director Sun and mumbled, hoping he'd reverse course. Not because she trusted Chu Zhi more, but because she wanted Chu Zhi's news to be true.
"Jia Jia, did Teacher Chu say anything else," asked the male lead, Guo Hao, early thirties, who still used Teacher with Chu Zhi's name.
"He asked us to help organize Chinese tourists," she said, serious now. "I did a variety show with Captain. We didn't spend a long time together, but he's not reckless. He plans thoroughly."
The subtext, Chu Zhi's info's solid.
Unlike others, Producer Wu knew extra context. Chu Zhi had deep official ties. Getting first-hand updates made sense.
"Politics shifts fast. Very likely when Director Sun called they had no plan, and now that's changed," Producer Wu said.
People nodded. Organizing compatriots, the crew moved fast.
This would hit the news. A mention would be a win, especially for actors living off visibility. The crew fanned out.
Isla del Sol gets over three thousand tourists a day. With the overseas B-unit attached to the shoot, they gathered more than two hundred people.
Being famous helped a little. Strangers were willing to offer a sliver of trust during the herding.
The dock was chaos.
Fifty-odd minutes later, a tour boat that could carry a few hundred tied up at Isla del Sol's port. Tourists went ecstatic.
"Thank God, we can leave this hellhole."
"I'm going back to Great Britain."
"I'm so done."
"My company needs me, let me board first."
…
The scenery on Isla del Sol hadn't changed, eighty ruins still stood, but when your mood flips, the world looks different.
Once word spread they were trapped and danger was real, just one morning took tourists from bliss to whiplash.
"Dear passengers, this vessel, Moon Child, has been rented by the Chinese embassy. Because capacity's limited, we'll prioritize Chinese nationals, Chinese people. Thank you for your cooperation." The loudspeaker broadcast in Chinese, English, and Spanish, clear enough for every cluster on the pier.
Most folks understood. Expressions on non-Chinese tourists darkened instantly.
Chinese travelers' relief stood in hard contrast. Human joys and sorrows really don't sync.
Embassy staff escorted Chinese tourists aboard. They still had a little space left, but if they took some foreign nationals, they'd risk trouble. For now the island wasn't affected, supplies existed, and the situation wasn't catastrophic, so no one was boiling over.
If they opened the gate, though, anything could happen.
The boat pulled out. The whole crew was settled.
"Thank you, Mr. Li. You've worked hard," Producer Wu said.
He'd clocked the leader's badge, First Secretary.
"Don't mention it. To be honest, the embassy didn't do the heavy lifting on this rescue," Secretary Li said.