Chapter 27: The Difference Between Rescue and Destruction

Crossing the border was easy, just more expensive this time—$30,000 last time, $50,000 this time. According to Frank, the former boss didn't want to keep troubling others or always stick to the friends and family discount.

Mait needed to go to the hospital, but despite his miserable appearance, there wasn't anything particularly serious. George and Rubber took Mait to a private clinic in Tijuana, where they found only some external wounds, bruises, and two fractures, none of which were life-threatening.

The real danger lay with Tova. Though he appeared unharmed, he remained unconscious. After crossing the border, Arthur and the others had to take Tova to a hospital for examination.

However, it was clear that Tova had been mistreated, with bruises and marks of abuse all over his mother as well, especially on her wrists and face, indicating torture.

Given Tova and his mother's condition, the hospital would almost certainly have to report to the authorities. Arthur and John didn't want to deal with the police, so they had to let Tova and his mother go to the hospital by themselves or choose a clinic that wouldn't alert the authorities.

Where there's demand, there's supply. San Diego had no shortage of black clinics specializing in serving drug traffickers and illegal immigrants. Moreover, these clinics were of high quality, as they were recommended by those who helped Arthur and the others cross the border.

Frank drove away in the vehicle loaded with combat gear, leaving Arthur and John to take care of Tova's medical needs.

The black clinic was small and appeared to be a simple private clinic with only one doctor, two male nurses, and one female nurse. However, they worked efficiently and were unfazed by Tova and his mother's condition, showing no intention to involve the authorities.

The doctor, a middle-aged Mexican man, took one look at Tova and, after listening to his lungs with a stethoscope, immediately said in Spanish, "What happened to him?"

Tova's mother, tearful but composed, responded to the doctor's question, "His ribs were already broken, and then he was hit in the chest, causing him to cough up blood. Today, someone covered his face with a cloth and poured water... until he stopped struggling."

The doctor's expression remained stoic. "Broken ribs and waterboarding. There's a high probability of a collapsed lung and obvious symptoms of pulmonary effusion. His condition is critical. Here, I can only perform an X-ray, not a CT scan. You can go to the UC San Diego Medical Center, which has one of the top respiratory centers in the country, for better medical conditions and expertise. If you stay here, it'll cost you $20,000 upfront for surgery, but I can't guarantee his survival."

Looking at the clock on the wall, the doctor continued expressionlessly, "And I must remind you, he doesn't have much time."

If there's no time, why waste so many words?

Without hesitation, Tova's mother pleaded, "Please save my son here!"

The doctor reiterated, "Twenty thousand dollars upfront, additional costs may follow, payment must be made first."

Tova's mother was stunned. She looked at Arthur with pleading eyes and whispered, "Please lend me the money. I promise I'll pay it back. Please help us."

This was an expected situation. Just rescued, how could Tova and his mother have money? What they didn't expect was the exorbitant price the black clinic demanded—no questions asked, just pay $20,000 upfront.

Arthur could only look to John. "Twenty thousand dollars, payment first."

Grumbling, John took out a wad of cash from his pocket and said irritably, "Pay up and save him."

The doctor was efficient. Confirming the patient had money, he immediately ordered his assistants, "Take him for an X-ray. You, go collect the payment."

The female nurse said to John, "Twenty thousand dollars. Please come this way to pay."

Although the clinic was in the U.S., both the doctor and the nurse were of Mexican descent and spoke Spanish, so Arthur didn't need to stay as a translator. Tova's mother could stay to look after her son.

Leaving the oppressive emergency room, Arthur breathed a sigh of relief and murmured, "I hope Tova survives."

"He has to survive. We haven't seen the $500,000 yet. We've paid $20,000 upfront. If he dies, we might lose our money."

After saying this indignantly, John looked at Arthur and said, "You did a great job today..."

"You guys were amazing today, just breaking into Juan's lair and killing at least a dozen people, and you're all fine. Impressive!"

Arthur cut off John's words, and John smirked disdainfully, saying, "What's that? We've been through much tougher battles."

Some questions were hard to ask, but Arthur was feeling restless. After thinking it over, he cautiously asked, "Why did Bison die at Sanchez's bodyguard's hands, while our operation tonight went so smoothly? Tonight's mission was more dangerous than last time, right?"

John shook his head. "You're wrong. Rescuing hostages is always the most dangerous because you have to ensure their safety. So last time, we could only get as close to the target as possible and then launch a direct attack. We weren't careless, but Sanchez's bodyguard was indeed very skilled and responsible. Also, the MP7 bullets have strong penetration, helmets can't stop them, so that's why Bison died."

Arthur is a rookie, so John wants to explain things more clearly. He sighed and continued, "Also, last time we used the equipment provided by Peter. The equipment was fine but lacked heavy firepower. To ensure the safety of the hostages, we couldn't use a rocket launcher or throw grenades before entering like we do today. We could only engage the kidnappers face-to-face, so... it's normal for someone to die in any hostage rescue operation."

Arthur nodded, "I see. So, this is the difference between a hostage rescue operation and a raid."

John nodded slightly, somewhat helplessly. "Because we're all retired from the military's combat units, it's fine to destroy a target or kill everyone in a house. But we're not professionals in hostage rescue. Bison was a very outstanding commando; he had experienced dozens of indoor battles. I didn't expect him to die at the hands of a drug trafficker, all for a measly twenty thousand..."

After speaking with reluctance, John sighed deeply. Then, he suddenly said, "Speaking of which, since we saved you, our luck seems to have improved. Just today, we earned two million dollars, more than we've made in the past two years. Making money in a legal PMC is not easy. It's better to do these kinds of special missions, where the money comes quickly."

John was excited. He patted Arthur's shoulder and said, "You're really lucky. Lucky to be saved by us, lucky to get a job, and now you can get hundreds of thousands of dollars right away. Damn! I've been working for years and haven't made hundreds of thousands. Saving money is too hard. You're really lucky. But speaking of money, can we collect Tova's money?"

Arthur was about to speak, but he saw Tova's mother walking out of the clinic and coming straight to him and John.

"Has Tova started the surgery?"

Tova's mother hugged Arthur, her voice trembling with tears. "He's started the surgery. Thank you, thank you all. You saved Tova twice. God bless you."

Arthur gently hugged Tova's mother and whispered, "He'll be fine. Ma'am, what should I call you?"

"I'm Maria."

After releasing Arthur, Maria wiped her tears and nodded to John before turning back to Arthur. "I will repay you what I owe you, and I will pay you fifty thousand. I should have left Tijuana long ago, but my husband's business is there. I didn't want to abandon his business and wanted Tova to take over his father's business when he grew up. But now, it seems like a stupid idea. We're going to Los Angeles. Please give me some time. Tomorrow, I can give you $520,000!"

Maria chattered on, and John, impatient, finally said in a low voice, "What did she say? Did she mention the money issue?"

Arthur nodded. "She said she can give us the money tomorrow."

John's furrowed brow relaxed, and he said satisfactorily, "Good. Comfort this lady well. Keep her company and talk to her. Our benefactor needs some counseling. We'll discuss martial arts later, no, let's just spar tomorrow. You get busy first. Don't worry about security; I'll keep watch. Trust me, I'm good at this."

Arthur tried to change the subject, but it returned to martial arts. He said helplessly, "We're sparring tomorrow?"

"Why not? It won't take much time. Alright, I won't disturb you anymore. I'll go on guard duty."

Pointing at Arthur, John walked away, then suddenly turned back. "Oh, and one more thing, I made a bet with Rubber that you'll beat him. Don't let me down."