Chapter 297: I Need a Pass

Federico's POV:

As I was leaving Khartoum Teaching Hospital with Barbara, I caught a glimpse of a tall, slender figure that seemed suspicious. 

Though the figure merely flitted across my field of vision momentarily, the stirring sensation it evoked within me remained indelibly etched in my heart. The resemblance to Sarah's silhouette was truly uncanny.

My rational mind told me it was impossible. How could Sarah suddenly appear here? Maybe I was just missing her too much that I mistook someone of similar height as her.

But the feeling that hit me at that moment wouldn't leave my mind. I was almost certain it was Sarah. It had to be. Only she could make me feel this way.

But if it really was Sarah, what was she doing in this hospital? She was dressed in dark clothes, carrying a case, clearly trying to move stealthily at night. What was she up to?

I started to doubt myself, wondering if it was just a hallucination.

However, in Sudan, I had already witnessed countless occurrences that transcended the boundaries of imagination. In this place, absolutely anything remained within the realm of possibility.

This thought created an overwhelming impulse that I couldn't resist. Even though I knew my mission at the hospital was complete; I had successfully picked up Barbara. I needed to leave this dangerous place immediately.

However, the thought of possibly missing the only chance to see Sarah again, and the idea of leaving her in such a dangerous place while I escaped alone, was unbearable.

So, I left Barbara in the car, ignoring the gunfire around me, and went back into the hospital.

When I saw the figure again, I was overjoyed. Despite the pervasive darkness that engulfed the hospital, her distinctive gait and familiar figure left little room for doubt in my mind—she was undeniably Sarah.

She entered the medicine storage room where Barbara and I had just been. When I pushed the door open, she was frantically searching the fridge for medicine.

I quietly approached her, hearing her rapid breathing and anxious muttering. My heart was about to leap out of my chest.

My Sarah, it was really her. She was right in front of me.

I gently placed my hand on her shoulder and called her name, trying not to startle her too much.

She was undoubtedly shocked, standing there clearly in disbelief, maybe even thinking she was dreaming.

I felt the same way.

As I hugged her tightly, feeling her heartbeat, her breath, and her skin, I finally felt grounded, no longer floating in the air.

But after a brief conversation, she insisted on returning to the RSF hospital. My heart filled with anger and pain, almost exploding. Letting her go at that moment, watching her leave, was more painful than death.

But once Sarah made a decision, I couldn't change her mind.

I kept telling myself that I had to trust her, forcing myself to let go.

My Sarah was whole and safe, though she had cut her beautiful long hair.

She must have faced many difficulties, but she managed to become an MSF doctor in RSF territory and even arranged an escape route for herself. I was so proud of her, but my heartache didn't lessen.

How could I leave her?

I couldn't force her; I could only do my best to get her to a safe place.

For a moment, I thought about sneaking into RSF territory with her, but I quickly dismissed the idea. I didn't want to add to Sarah's already dangerous situation, and besides, I had my own tasks to complete before leaving Sudan.

I had to let her go, even though it was the hardest decision of my life.

We kissed on the rooftop, more passionately than ever, but when I turned to leave, my steps were firm, and I didn't look back. I was afraid that if I did, I would never be able to leave her.

I ran through the dilapidated streets, eventually entering a rundown alley. I passed through the alley into a wooded area, with no soldiers chasing me. I finally stopped, leaning against a tree, gasping for breath.

Looking up through the sparse leaves, I saw the pale blue sky, and it felt like I could see Sarah's face again.

God would surely protect her and help her return safely to her hospital.

I recalled our encounter a few hours ago. Unwilling to miss a single moment, I replayed her every word and expression, stretching time infinitely, like watching my favorite movie in slow motion.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

Thank God, she was alive. My existence and all my efforts were once again meaningful.

******

Daylight came, and sporadic gunfire echoed through the streets of Khartoum, but there were no intense explosions.

When I burst into Bashir's office, dodging the soldiers at the door, he was in a meeting with several military officers. 

My entrance drew their attention instantly.

Bashir waved them off, and the officers saluted and left. He took a sip of coffee and sat down.

"Coffee? I know Americans start their day with coffee."

I placed the AK-47 and his handgun on the table, leaning on it with both hands, standing in front of him. "I don't want coffee. I have one request: let me leave Sudan immediately!"

He looked up, meeting my eyes. His eyes were bloodshot and tired, just like mine, from a sleepless night.

"There's a war going on. Even if I give you a pass, you'll face difficulties." His voice was low and slow, as if discussing something trivial.

I was frustrated. My issues seemed insignificant compared to his war efforts.

"And our first deal hasn't been completed, has it?" He squinted at me, his gaze sharp.

"Not completed? You got 500 AK-47s for almost nothing. Indeed, that's not a deal; it's a steal. I've told you, as long as Juma is alive, the deal will go through."

He shrugged and stood up. "Then wait for Juma to recover. Hopefully, he'll be back in Khartoum soon."

I picked up the handgun, released the safety, and aimed it at his head. He flinched slightly, his eyes wide with surprise and a hint of shock.

I spoke coldly, "I'm not negotiating; I'm informing you. I have urgent matters and need to leave Sudan immediately. Your damn arms deal is arranged. I don't want to waste any more time on your war. If you don't help me leave, today will be your last day."

He took a deep breath. "It seems you're not just a spoiled rich kid."

"What I am is none of your business."

"Even if I give you a pass, you might not make it out safely." His tone softened a bit.

"Just give me the pass." My tone was firm, then I softened a bit as well. "I don't want to be involved in your war, and I can't help. But I can promise you, if you leave Sudan and come to America, I can offer you a stable and wealthy life."

He looked at me quietly.

"Colonel Bashir," I took a deep breath, "whether you win or lose the war, you'll always have a home in America."

A flicker of pain crossed Colonel Bashir's eyes, tears welling up within them. "Come see me in three days."