Chapter 38: Tracking
The Sahara Desert, formed approximately 2.5 million years ago, is the world's largest hot desert and the third-largest desert overall.
Located in North Africa, its harsh climate makes it one of the most inhospitable places on Earth.
Countless legends have circulated about it since ancient times, most related to treasure and gold, as this barren, naturally rugged desert is an ideal place to hide valuables.
Therefore, it has never lacked treasure hunters, dreaming of instant wealth through a single discovery. Their presence has transformed parts of the once-empty desert into populated areas, bringing commerce to the landscape.
Desert outposts and raiders have become local fixtures.
Jake was currently driving his ATV, its four massive tires giving it exceptional sand-crossing capabilities.
He was covered in protective gear, and the wind whipped his neck scarf backward.
Glancing at the GPS tracker, Jake saw that Condor and his group had stopped about half a mile ahead of him.
This tracking hadn't been easy; Jake had been following Condor for two days and two nights. This time, their stop must be at the desert hotel from the original movie's plot.
"Putting some pressure on Condor was quite effective," Jake thought, stopping the ATV. According to the original plot, without pressure, Condor had taken almost a week just to reach the desert hotel; the fact that they'd arrived in two days was definitely due to nonstop travel.
With a flash, he vanished from the desert, reappearing with damp hair and a cold drink in his hand.
This was the advantage of being able to return to the real world at any time.
Having rested enough, Jake started the vehicle again and headed toward their destination.
"Welcome, welcome!"
The proprietor of the desert hotel, a shrewd businessman in traditional dress, warmly greeted Jake with open arms.
Jake nodded, removed the scarf covering his face, and casually slipped a hundred-dollar bill into the man's hand.
He never disliked greedy people—they were predictable.
"My vehicle also needs secure parking," Jake said, tossing the ATV keys to the proprietor.
The man took the money, his eyes widening as he examined it closely before quickly pocketing it and exclaiming, "Blessings upon you! We have excellent covered parking here—secure, clean, and guarded around the clock, absolutely safe!"
Jake found it amusing; merchants were indeed terrible actors.
He sat down in the ground floor lobby and ordered some food, intending to try some desert cuisine.
Watching the proprietor still hustling at the entrance, Jake couldn't help but reflect. If he hadn't accidentally gained the ability to travel through movie worlds, he might have spent his entire life struggling for money, just like this man.
The food arrived quickly, probably because the proprietor had given special instructions.
However, looking at the spread before him, Jake's eye twitched involuntarily.
Meat, all meat!
Roasted meat, stewed meat, grilled meat, large portions of meat...
The most numerous large animal in the desert is the camel. When alive, they're transportation, but when they die... they become this regional delicacy in front of Jake.
He took a small taste, and although it was decent on first try, he knew he couldn't handle eating too much of it.
At this moment, the proprietor approached, his face full of servility. "How is everything, sir? Is the food satisfactory?"
Jake nodded, reached into his pocket, took out several bills, and placed them on the table. "I have a question I'd like to ask you."
The proprietor stared wide-eyed at the money, visibly salivating. "Of course, of course," he said, reaching to claim it.
Jake reached out and gently caught the proprietor's outstretched arm, preventing him from moving forward despite his efforts. "I heard there's gold in the desert?"
Seeing that he couldn't pull away or advance, the proprietor reluctantly stopped struggling and nodded. "Of course, everyone who comes to the desert is after that treasure."
"Oh? I heard there's a gang of raiders around here?" He lowered his voice, and the proprietor instinctively leaned in to hear clearly.
Suddenly, the proprietor's expression changed, and he raised his other free hand and waved it repeatedly in front of his chest. "No, no, I've never heard of such people."
Jake stared at him for a while and noticed that apart from increasing sweat on his forehead, the proprietor's denial remained consistent.
"Don't worry, I'm only looking for them for business reasons." Jake took out several more bills and placed them on the table.
A struggle began to appear in the proprietor's eyes. A greedy person can't resist such temptation.
"If you don't help me," Jake said quietly, pressing something against the proprietor's side under his wide sleeve.
The proprietor's face instantly paled because he felt a gun pressed against his ribs!
Click—he could even hear the sound of a hammer being cocked.
"We'll each make our own money, sound fair?" Jake finally offered the deal.
To others, it looked like Jake and the proprietor were having a private conversation, but only the proprietor knew that this well-dressed man was forcing him to make a choice: take the money or take a bullet.
And he'd already made his decision.
"They've been operating about six miles to the east these past few days. Yesterday morning, a traveler was robbed there."
"Excellent," Jake's lips curled into a smile. "Then may fortune smile on you." He withdrew the pistol from the proprietor's side.
The man's face instantly relaxed, and he let out a deep breath, but he didn't forget to pocket the money from the table—truly someone who valued profit above all else.
Upstairs, Jake also spotted Condor's group who had just checked in, along with two comically dressed men claiming to represent some cause.
Smiling and waving to Condor, Jake turned and left the hotel, noting the other man's serious expression.
Now that the next objective had been located, why waste time here?
"What's wrong, Jack? Who was that?" Ada stepped out of her room and asked Condor, whose face was troubled.
"Our biggest competition."
"Competition?" Ada scoffed, watching Jake's departing figure. "He's well-dressed, but competition? We have UN authorization."
"The fact that he was able to follow us here without any advance information means he has his own intelligence network," Condor disagreed. Suddenly, his expression changed. "We might have a tracker on us!"
Jake mounted his ATV and began speeding eastward. The swirling sand whipped up by strong winds lashed at him, some penetrating his protective gear.
Beep beep beep—the GPS suddenly alerted him that the target signal had disappeared.
A slight smile played across his lips behind his sunglasses. Condor had undoubtedly discovered the tracker he'd planted, but Jake didn't care. Condor's main purpose had been to lead him to the desert; others would guide him to the gold's location.
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