The bomb's fuse sizzled in the dark, spewing dark red sparks, like a viper flicking its tongue.
Song Heping and Jiang Feng rushed up to the third-floor platform in a few quick steps, their backs just touching the wall when the explosion below tore the air apart.
The entire building shook violently, with dust falling from the ceiling.
The blast wave from the explosion blew the fire escape door off its hinges, slamming it heavily against the wall across the corridor.
Thick dust surged out from the third-floor exit along the hallway, and even though they hid behind the corridor wall, the two could still feel the immense impact, feeling their chests tighten and seeing stars in front of their eyes.
"The stairs are broken!"
Jiang Feng peeked for a quick look.
Two load-bearing pillars were precisely destroyed, and the stairs between the third and second floors appeared as if a giant beast had taken a bite, exposing ghastly steel bar cross-sections.
Several guards in the lead were lifted by the shockwave, flying straight out from the corridor window, their screams drowned in the reverberating explosions.
"There's a bit too much explosive..."
Song Heping's eardrums hummed, and he shook his head violently to clear his mind.
"To the broadcast room! The speech is in three minutes!"
The two bent down and ran, as bullets suddenly whizzed in from outside the window.
The guards downstairs, unable to get to the third floor, stood on the ground below, shooting blindly at the third-floor windows.
When they barged into the broadcast room, Ferrari was using the butt of a gun to knock out a struggling staff member.
The red indicator light on the broadcast equipment was still on, and Du Er's steady voice was being transmitted nationwide through the airwaves—
"...The Noel regime has lost its legitimacy, now I am declaring to everyone on the national radio..."
Abdul, sweating profusely, stood by the satellite phone and quickly reported as they entered, "I have good news and bad news!"
Song Heping got straight to the point, "Let's hear the good news first."
Abdul said, "Lumar reports that the eastern line forces have broken through the first line of defense! It seems the broadcast had some effect, captured enemy officers at the front say their superiors ordered them to hold their ground but then took off themselves..."
Song Heping pursued, "What's the bad news?"
Abdul swallowed hard and said gravely, "Our informant within the government army reports that a company of the Presidential Guard is moving towards the radio station!"
Song Heping glanced at his watch—thirty seconds remaining.
He pressed the radio communication button, "Collins, report your situation!"
Crackling electrical noise and labored breathing came through the headset, "The elevator shaft is cleared... I'm in the parking lot... discovered four armed pickups entering from the south gate; they seem to be blocking the exit..."
"Damn it!"
Song Heping slammed his fist on the control panel.
The original plan was to make a disguised retreat from the underground parking lot, but now their escape route was being cut off.
He quickly scanned the room, his gaze falling on the ventilation duct in the ceiling—too narrow; then he turned to the window—jumping down from the third floor was risky and dangerous, plus there were many armed guards below.
"What do we do?" Sweat dripped from Abdul's nose, his voice slightly trembling.
It seemed that this young opposition officer was beginning to waver.
After all, he was well aware of the fate that awaited him in the hands of the Presidential Guard.
Whether the coup succeeded or not, he was bound to end up a martyr.
The broadcasting equipment beeped suddenly, and Collins' voice exploded from the walkie-talkie, "There are at least twenty of them; I see them establishing a checkpoint at the parking lot exit, boss, what now?! How do we get out?!"
In fact, Collins should be the most nervous of everyone.
He was at the forefront, having lowered the elevator to the fourth floor and then slid down the cables to the underground parking lot.
According to the plan, they were supposed to take a car and leave from the underground parking lot.
But now, it seemed almost impossible to leave.
Almost simultaneously, a burst of gunfire erupted from the south side of the building.
Song Heping lunged toward the window, peering through the gap in the curtains to see four pickups mounted with heavy machine guns crushing the garden fence, the truck beds filled with Presidential Guards wearing red berets.
These elite soldiers were not as easy to deal with as ordinary guards.
"Stick to the original plan, exit through the underground parking lot."
Song Heping's voice was like steel tempered in fire, exceptionally resolute.
"We'll go down through the elevator shaft. Ferrari, plant the bomb to destroy the equipment once the speech is over."
Amid the tension of the onlookers, Song Heping tore down the curtains and started ripping them into strips: "Jiang Feng, prepare the rappel anchor point; Abdul, keep in contact with Lumar to get the latest from the front line."
Du Er's speech was now reaching its conclusion—
"...The Senan people will eventually gain freedom; from now on, everyone oppressed by the Noel regime, rise up, take the weapons in your hands, even if it's just a machete, and settle scores with the lackeys of the corrupt former regime..."
Listening to these highly provocative words, Song Heping sneered internally; Du Er was indeed a master at political manipulation.
As the final words were spoken, Ferrari stepped forward, pulling the safety pin from an aluminum thermite incendiary and stuffing it into the recording equipment.
Soon, with a muffled thud, brilliant white sparks burst from the equipment gaps.