In the port outside Mombasa, 40 containers were located under cranes at the terminal.
Two black tribesmen with rifles stepped forward, dragged out a plastic box of ammunition from the opened container, and brutally smashed the lock with the rifle stock. When they saw orange-yellow bullets inside, their mung bean-like eyes showed a spark of ecstasies, then they whistled with cheers.
"Twenty boxes of military arms are here, where are our people?" Feng Yuan did not look at the two men, but instead, stared at the envoy of Morsi Tribe in front of him.
He noticed that when the envoy saw the 40 containers of military arms in the port, there was a look of greed that quickly disappeared from his face. This greed was not directed at the arms here, anyone could feel that it was aimed at Feng Yuan and his people.
One hostage traded for a box of arms.
This deal was way too profitable.
