Patagonia Survivor

 

Hermann could no longer hear, he was looking at the ground. Finally, one of his eyes was looking at the ground. The other... He knew he was going to die. It was only a matter of time.

The man who was talking to him was terrible, a real nutcase, like you see in the movies. Hermann had broken his nose, but the guy didn't even realize it. He was talking without stopping, Hermann could hardly hear him: "...  Your little Chinese girl, you know.  She meowed a lot when we took care of her, right, guys? It was like...  ".  Hermann understood that they didn't know anything, they were bluffing.  They must have seen him regularly with the young woman, who played the role of a waitress at the Chinese restaurant, as a cover.  He and Men Jiahui exchanged information while ordering, sometimes even pretending to flirt nicely...

Men Jiahui was currently in the middle of his commando members, not in any danger from these guys...  She had warned him, an hour before they arrived.  But he had been late, he had wanted to destroy the last documents in his office.  He had been caught stupidly. Men and his men would not intervene to rescue him. They could not compromise their mission.

To think that these heavy hitters thought that Officer Men Jiahui, from the Jiaolong Special Forces Unit, elite marine commandos, had been "his" little Chinese girl...  If they had known the mentality of Chinese commandos, they would have been disappointed.  This kind of thought had certainly never occurred to Men Jiahui.  This woman was completely devoted to her country, like all her colleagues.  She would smile at you on the orders of her superiors; laugh at your jokes, always on orders.  She could also kill you, the next second, with a simple fork.

Hermann had collaborated with the Chinese for the love of his native country, Argentina.  Inwardly he sang the hymn of his homeland:

" ...  Mortals!  Hear the sacred cry:

Freedom, freedom, freedom!

Hear the sound of broken chains, See noble equality enthroned...

These brutes would learn nothing from him. 

Hermann knew he was going to die, he had nothing left to lose.

Those bald-headed guys had burst into Hermann's office like a tsunami, real bullies.  Despite his twenty years of shotokan karate and his black belt, he couldn't do anything.  He had punched without any effect, these guys were on drugs.  Their pupils were dilated, their jaws were clenched, their nostrils were tightened: Captagon. 

They were under the influence of Captagon or something like that.  They had tortured him, tormented his body. His eye...  They wanted to know who had given him the information about the submarine, about Officer Hua.  But he had said nothing. They would know nothing about him, only his country mattered...

The crazy man continued his verbal ranting: "You shouldn't mix with the Vietnamese, Hermann, a beautiful Aryan like you.  There are, by the way, many things you shouldn't have got involved in...  Come on, one last word for the road ?  Who tipped you off, give a name and I'll leave you alone.  No, really?...  "

The man was still turning the tip of the blade in Hermann's guts.  He grunted and fainted again.

"... May the laurels be eternal

That we were able to obtain,

That we were able to obtain.

Let us live crowned with glory

Or let us swear to die gloriously!  Or let us swear to die gloriously!  Or let us swear to die gloriously...  "

THE COOLIE TAKES THE PLANE.

Air Canada flight AC92 from Toronto had finally come to a stop in its parking spot.  The plane had taxied for a long time on the tarmac of the Arturo-Merino-Benítez International Airport in Santiago de Chile.  It was a beautiful day.  The Chilean December sky was bright, even though the temperature was barely above 20 degrees, without an ounce of wind.  The flight, of a little more than ten hours, had gone as well as possible, in the olfactory atmosphere particular to air flights, mixture of kerosene, farts, perfumes and vomits recycled by the air conditioning.  The Canadian crew had been friendly.

For once, Liang had left the trains and ocean freighters and taken the plane.  He had been paid to fly in urgently, required for a suicide mission. It was worth the airfare and some hotel accommodations.

The exit from the airport's customs area was quick, as Liang had no checked luggage.

After changing some money, he took one of the black and yellow cabs that took him to the Castillo Rojo hotel.

The trip took a good half hour, because of the traffic that was getting heavier in the city center.  The dry plains stretched as far as the eye could see around the Costanera highway.  Little by little, the road went into the popular suburbs of Santiago, made up of small wooden and brick shacks surrounded by suspicious metal sheets.  The avenues, wide and dusty, were embellished with a few thin trees and walls covered with colored tags that betrayed the influence of the North American society.

The cab entered the city on the road that followed the Mapocho River.  A few skyscrapers quickly gave way to the administration buildings and businesses of the city center.  The modern city was ugly, an unsuccessful mix of massive buildings and blind American-style glass structures.

As we approached the artists' district of Bellavista, the small buildings of the old city were adorned with brightly colored frescoes and several sidewalks were enlivened with sidewalk cafes.  Still, the general atmosphere was different from the exuberant gaiety usual in the neighboring countries of South America. 

Liang didn't care. The world had no interest outside of China.

The cab stopped in front of the hotel.  The 1920s scarlet facade of the establishment was famous in Santiago, embellished with half-timbered walls in a style that betrayed the influence of the German community that had come to populate the country.

Europeans and their masters were not the only inhabitants of Argentina and Chile.  Before them, there had already been the Indian tribes, the Mapuches, who would have liked to continue to reign without sharing their lands at the end of the world. 

The Mapuches were only about 1.5 million, distributed between Argentina and Chile.  They survived.

CIVIL WAR IN ARAUCANIA

Araucania was on the verge of civil war.  Fires, bombings and occupations of large properties were now part of everyday life.  The Indians, robbed of their lands, victims of police violence or private militias, were on the warpath.

Against a backdrop of indifference or corruption, the police obeyed the interests of the forestry, hydroelectric and thermoelectric industries and the giants of intensive agriculture, treating the Mapuche in revolt as criminals.

The landscape of Araucania was changing.  The thousand-year-old forests were replaced by the monoculture of eucalyptus and pine trees that dried up the land.  It was the reign of the multinationals.

The exasperation of a people had been achieved.  Now the Mapuche political leaders were talking about independence.  The trap of the New World Order was closing, a Mapu state would be a toy in its hands.

Liang thought that perhaps the Mapuche would prove to be valuable allies in his mission.

These Indians knew the mountains perfectly, they had lived there for thousands of years.

A PROMISED LAND FOR THE NEW WORLD ORDER

In the vastness of southern America, the New World Order was carving out a new empire.  Patagonia was one of the places where one of the most formidable geopolitical battles of the century was being played out.

With a large surface area, a modest population, the diversity of climates between the Arctic and the Tropics, the countries of the Southern Cone were capable of producing any plant produced in the world.  If one added the possibilities of cattle breeding, the place was the future larder of the world.  The enormous wealth of the subsoil, deliberately under-exploited for decades, promised all the metals in the world. 

All this wealth was, moreover, conveniently far away from the planned future war fronts.

In order to take over Patagonia, the New World Order had patiently fostered corruption, political unrest, misery and injustice for decades.  The army was deliberately involved in the violent repressions, so that it would lose the trust of the people.  In this way, all ties between the federal governments and the peoples of Patagonia were gradually broken.

One day soon, the proclamations of independence of the Mapuche Indian leaders would, of course, be immediately recognized internationally...

Argentina and Chile would be unable to recover their lost provinces.  If they were to remain stubborn, Buenos Aires and Santiago would suddenly no longer receive aid from international banks. This would cause famines and fuel shortages, immobilizing military troops.  And if, by chance, Argentina and Chile managed to organize a military takeover, international armed forces would immediately intervene to defend the borders of the new Patagonia, in accordance with international treaties in force...

The immigration of impoverished foreign populations, the centralized purchase of vast tracts of land, the confusion inherent in democracy, were all part of the plan prior to the conquest of Patagonia.  Primary, secondary and university education, all the ministries and even the armed forces had been taken over in order to sow disorder and subversion.  Individuals had to submit to the international will.  The unfortunate economic measures of the governments had not been mistakes, but the blind application of perfectly established plans of sabotage, as in Eurabia. 

They had worked hard to impoverish the currencies, to organize administrative corruption and to increase the prices of consumer goods in order to impoverish these nations and prepare a slow chaos. 

This was exactly how the French revolution of 1789 was prepared by organizing famine, by hiding wheat in silos.  It was always the same strategy of the powerful to lead the people where they wanted.  Today, all the countries of the world submit their destinies to the globalist elites.

A FREAK ACCIDENT

Liang got out of the cab and entered the lobby of the Castillo Rojo Hotel, a city landmark.  The entrance was in Spanish Baroque style.  The walls were clad in dark wood, the counter in carved wood.  The curtains, candelabra candles and chairs added a welcome hint of red.  The man at the reception desk kindly gave him the hotel's schedule before giving him the key to his room.

The room, furnished with dark wood furniture and pretty vintage lamps made of wood and copper, pleased Liang very much.    He leaned against the window to admire the snowy peaks of the Andes while pondering what to do next.

He would have to find Officer Hua quickly, somewhere in this immense Patagonia, and get her out of the place where she was being held prisoner.  But how?

After an hour, Liang received a message on his phone: his contact Hermann had been killed in Araucania, in the town of Collipulli.

Liang was in Santiago de Chile, because one of the two submarines of the modest Argentine Navy, the San Juan, had mysteriously disappeared with its crew off the coast during a strange "secret mission.

Liang was part of the team that came to try to find a young woman, Hua, a Chinese intelligence officer who had apparently miraculously escaped the tragic fate of the rest of the San Juan's passengers.

The ARA1 San Juan was a second-hand German diesel-electric submarine recommissioned in the Argentine Navy. There had been no further contact with the submarine since it had last sent its position, according to official sources, 430 km from the Argentine coast.

There were several disturbing details in this case. The first was that the submarine had been in the Ushuaia region for at least three days on a secret mission to the extreme south of the continent, before the official date of its disappearance.

What was he going to do on a secret mission to Ushuaia, what had he found there?

The second disturbing detail was that the crew of the San Juan was normally composed of 37 members. But 44 people were missing. Seven people, including the Chinese intelligence officer Hua, were among the mystery guests.

Of these additional passengers, only two clearance divers, "Buzos Tacticos", the Argentine Navy's special forces, and a naval reconnaissance officer were mentioned.

The remaining four were members of the Chinese navy and intelligence.

The Argentine Navy initially claimed to have received seven attempted satellite phone calls before denying them. On the same day, underwater noises were detected by two ships, but were also denied. Add to this the fact that several Navy officials, including the Admiral, had been dismissed. All this smelled of international pressure, manipulation and the official version.

HIGH-LEVEL MANIPULATION

Liang was there to try to get the officer, who Hermann said had survived.

In a situation like this, a few lives were worthless. Why keep this young Chinese officer alive?

And if she was alive, an army of professional thugs would probably stand between her and any intruder. It was another desperate situation, one that would get her into trouble. But Liang had received orders. A special forces commando was coming into the country. Liang was tasked with getting civilian intelligence to send them to the right place.

The US Office of Naval Intelligence had been ordered to bury the case, through a report by a former US Navy expert, who had decreed, without providing any evidence, that the ship had "imploded. The 44 crew members on board the missing Argentine submarine had died "instantly" and, it was specified in order to reassure public opinion and the families, without suffering...

The acoustic analyst, basing himself on a signal collected from both Ascension Island and the Crozet Archipelago and published by the Vienna-based Comprehensive Nuclear-Test-Ban Treaty Organization, had authoritatively concluded, without providing any proof once again, that all the crew members had been killed after the submarine's hull had been completely destroyed, in 1/25th of a second. The expert even thought he had to specify that the submarine wreck had sunk vertically "at a speed of 10 to 13 knots. "It was precise...

Officially, the crew reported that water had entered the vessel through its snorkel, causing a battery failure. The submarine was then advised to return to Mar del Plata to solve the problem. The captain of the San Juan communicated by satellite phone that "the problem" had been contained. The submersible had "imploded" a little later. It seemed very odd to Liang and his liaison officers that the submersible did not try to return to the surface in its own waters...

The explosion had been located in an area where, very conveniently, the Argentine continental shelf suddenly dropped from 200 meters to a depth of 5,000 meters. This coincidence also seemed very strange. The wreck could not be recovered...

ARGENTINIAN PATRIOTS

Hermann, the man who had been murdered, had claimed that Hua was still alive. Liang did not have much information about Hermann. Born in Argentina, he was a businessman, owner of a fruit company in Chile, with links to the Argentinean patriot movements.

The latter were tough. Twice, in 1806 and 1807, the inhabitants of Buenos Aires had resisted the English invasion plans. From 1835 to 1852, Juan Manuel de Rosas and his men continued to defend their country against the British and French. In the 20th century, President Hipólito Yrigoyen refused to allow Argentina to enter the First World War, refusing to allow Buenos Aires to become a member of the League of Nations, a political creature of the newly founded Council on Foreign Relations. Yrigoyen was overthrown by a military coup supported by the New World Order in 1930.

In 1943, the Argentine government again refused to take part in World War II, despite pressure. In 1946, Juan Domingo Perón rejected both British-American liberal "democracy" and Soviet communism. He rapidly industrialized Argentina, concentrated on national defense, and passed social laws that were far ahead of their time.

In 1955, a coup d'état drove Perón from power...

Since then, Argentina has been falling into a carefully maintained decadence. It was necessary to subdue Argentina, to destroy it culturally, to falsify its history, to reverse its values, to disarm its military, to destroy its economy. This was the task of the agents of the New World Order who had infiltrated the successive governments.

Today, the humiliated Argentine people were thrown into confusion, controlled by the growing insecurity in the streets as much as by the insecurity of employment. The last stage of the plan was approaching. The time had come to create a new state in Patagonia, at the expense of Argentina and Chile.

San Juan had secretly welcomed Chinese observers who displeased the globalist New World Order.

However, high-ranking members of the Argentine military staff had brought Chinese military observers on board the submarine. No doubt some Argentine military personnel, exasperated at seeing their country betrayed and sold out, had wanted the support of a powerful ally.

All the intelligence services had a contemptuous laugh for the Anglo-American thesis. They had all registered an abnormal explosion, something other than the implosion of a submarine.

RIVALRIES IN PATAGONIA

The Chinese had not appreciated that their observers were killed. China, the Middle Kingdom, was taking its place as a great world power. It was an act of war.

Finally, in Washington, officially, there was no trace of the submarine and its crew.

Since its inception, America had been in the hands of stateless oligarchs. Many American patriots were aware of this and were enraged to see their country betrayed in its constitutional ideals. An "informant" at Langley had discreetly suggested to the Chinese that they should leave it alone: teams belonging to the Homicide Services were on hand to neutralize snoopers like Liang... A good welcome in prospect.

Several billionaires were acquiring huge lands in Patagonia, both on the Chilean and Argentine sides. Their territories, sometimes of several million hectares, were as big as countries and housed important paramilitary activities. They had airfields built that were several kilometers long, and a former military port had been ceded to Israel.

Israeli soldiers regularly came to Patagonia for "vacations". Strangely enough, they spent their vacations doing topographic surveys, reports...

And then there were the henchmen of the "Colonia Dignidad", the barbouzes of the infamous "charitable society" created by the good "doctor Schäfer", in San Manuel, 350 km from Santiago de Chile. The colonia dignidad had been guilty of slavery for hundreds of people, sexual abuse of children had been perpetrated there for decades. German networks of influence were powerful in Chile and Argentina. On the Chilean side, the military government had covered up the activities of Schäfer and his men, especially since the science of the good doctor's camps was regularly used to effectively eliminate enemies of Ernesto Pinochet's dictatorship. The organization was not dismantled until the very end of the 1990s, with the "democratic transition. Schäfer fled the country, was recaptured in Argentina, tried and then put in prison. He died there without having been pushed too hard to make any revelations... The members of the Schäfer organization and its networks were still active in Chile, especially in the south. Hermann was perhaps the last victim.

Between the mercenaries, the neo-nazis, the professional killers' services, who were determined to "neutralize" the snoopers... There was, decidedly, only a good crowd there to welcome Liang.

FILATURE

The next morning, Liang called one of the contacts he had been given to confirm the appointment. He was to meet him in the city of Temuco.

According to Liang's information, this man did not know where Hua could be, but he claimed that there was "something interesting" on the side of Lago Errante, in the province of Rio Negro.

Liang went downstairs to get a rental car on Bellavista Boulevard. When he left the hotel, he turned right onto Constitucion Street. At the terrace of the café, under the orange umbrellas, he spotted two individuals who immediately intrigued him.

It was necessary to expect it. Cops or crooks, tailing was part of the job. The protagonists of this story had to have sounded the alarm a long time ago...

Between the inevitable phone calls, the arrival at the airport, the hotel reservations, the car rentals, it was difficult for a Chinese from Chongqing to hope to arrive anonymously.

Liang just hoped that those who followed him were cops or belonged to the official Chilean security services. He continued on his way, checking to see if the two were following him. Looking at the reflection on his phone, he saw that they were.

He passed the brick wall and entered the Chilean rent a car compound. He rented a red Toyota Hilux with GPS for Chile and Argentina, both off-road capable and comfortable enough to drive.

Liang pulled out of the agency's parking lot. The 150-horsepower engine hummed. He turned left onto Mallinkrodt. He parked the pickup in front of the hotel and went out to get his bag. He quickly climbed the stairs and went to the room. He took the bag without checking the room. He didn't want to find himself in front of one or two guys rummaging under the mattresses... He closed the door and went back downstairs.

Liang spotted a small gray car tailing him from a distance. It was a simple, rather reassuring tail. It must have been police or security guys, as he had hoped.

FUERZAS DE SEGURIDAD Y ORDEN

On Santo Domingo Boulevard, Liang stopped at a red light. The car that was following him stopped beside him. The passenger of the car showed him a map and motioned for him to pull over.

The two men, wearing jackets and jeans, got out of the car and approached. They were the two guys who had been following them since the morning. Liang tensed, but one of them stopped quietly at a distance. The other approached smiling, reassuring. :

- Señor Liang?

Si?

Hello, military security.

The man pulled out a card that said "Fuerzas de Orden y Seguridad.

- Can I talk to you for a minute? I won't be long. Our services detected you when you entered the country. We have reason to believe that you are coming to the country for a job...

- ...

- You are some kind of civil servant, weren't you... We hope you understand that Chile wishes to preserve order and calm in its territory.

- ...

We are not hostile to your "investigation", whatever it may be, as long as it does not disturb the order in our country . We have at the moment, for example, some unrest in the south of the country, unrest among the Mapuche tribes that we want to calm down. Do you intend to continue your trip to the south of the country?

...

Well, we must warn you that your safety will not be guaranteed. You should give up this trip.

- ...

If, however, you wish to... To continue, I... I will leave you my personal details. If you also need a contact in Argentina, call me.

The man held out his card. Liang read, "Capitan de fregata Maximiliano Ugarte Valls.

The people who were trying to take over Patagonia were, in my opinion, more undesirable than you. I am sure that you will avoid problems. Be careful.

...

The man saluted militarily and left with his colleague.

As Maximiliano Ugarte Valls walked back to his car, he thought, once again, about that Chinese man. One of the leaders of his movement, a movement of patriots, had reported Liang. The man was unknown on the Interpol files, registered nowhere, discreet, really discreet the nice Chinese.

Yet he must have been a pro. He had quickly spotted them when Liang was following him. His silhouette, the way he moved, signaled a trained man. Strange, perhaps, this guy belonged to the Chinese intelligence services.

Maximiliano Ugarte Valls' approach was delicate: he was not acting within the framework of his work. His service had not spotted Liang. For Chile, Liang was just another foreign tourist. Valls was acting on a tip-off that came from the leadership of the patriot movement to which he belonged. The tip-off was benevolent.

COLLIPULI

Liang headed south on the Pan American Highway toward Temuco. The Pan American Highway was hopelessly straight, stretching more than 20,000 kilometers from the huge Prudhoe Bay oil field in Alaska to Ushuaïa, the southern tip of the South American continent in Tierra del Fuego. He turned on the radio. The Valparaíso region band "Bloque Depresivo" was playing Solo tu, the international hit popularized in the 70s by the singer Antonella Ruggiero, from the Italian band Matia Bazar. The lyrics of "Bloque Depresivo" were not exactly sparkling for Liang. He changed the radio. There was everything from K-Pop, techno, tropical music from Voz Colombiana, Latin music from Radio Corazón, jazz, bossa nova, classical music, oldies, reggaeton, or the inevitable American protestant radio stations, which were present throughout Latin America. Unfortunately, there was no Chinese pop.

A sign indicated an exit to the township of Collipulli, the place where Hermann had been killed. Liang got out. The road leading to the town was framed by small, quiet houses. No one would suspect that a man could be killed in such a place, let alone on a matter of national security.

Liang entered the city center and the neighborhood changed, becoming less clean, poorer with vacant lots, closed businesses, and the inevitable tin fences. At the corner of O'Carrol and Argomedo Street, there was an open store. A sign read: "Panadería botillería Macaya," a bakery that also served drinks...

Liang parked the car and went inside. A woman in her fifties was there. A man suddenly emerged from the back room. Liang gave him the paper that had been slipped to him at the "Donde Augusto" restaurant. In return, he received a paper with directions to the place where Hermann had died. "You take the Pan-American Highway, it was the Pidima exit, you get out. It was easy to find. "

Already the man was turning around, way to dismiss him...

Liang went back to the Pan American Highway, took the exit and went along the road to Pidima. He arrived in front of the company's entrance. Liang walked into the company's compound, amidst the orchards that stretched for acres all around. He met a female worker and asked her, "Do you know where Mr. Hermann's office is?

The woman hesitated, looked at this incongruous Chinese man. She didn't dare tell him the story of Mr. Hermann's murder. Finally, she said: "I don't think there are many people around at this time of day. Go to the office and ask around. It was there."

It was perfect, Liang had no one to meet. Liang went to the office, and indeed there was no one there.

On one of the walls was a photocopied article from Americafruit, the online magazine dedicated to the major importers and distributors of fruits and vegetables in North America. The article stated that the company was making its debut as an organic exporter in China. The grower/exporter became the first Chilean company to obtain permission to ship its organic blueberries to China.

Liang was only interested in one detail, the photo. In Chinese, the observatory of Neuquén and Puerto Rio Tranquilo were written on it. The photo illustrating the article had been retouched so that Liang could find the information about its destination: Puerto Tranquilo.

There was a Chinese observatory in Patagonia, in Neuquén, which caused controversy. Officially, the Chinese were observing the moon, but no one knew if the personnel were military or not...

TEMUCO

Liang did not arrive in Temuco until nightfall. As far as he could tell, the city was clean, modern in its facilities, very similar to North American structures. After driving through suburban housing developments, Liang finally arrived at the Goblin's House Hotel, a small, comfortable hotel located in the German section of Temuco. In this German quarter lived the descendants of those who had founded the German college and clinic, the Lutheran churches and all the other Protestant churches in the city.  His contact was to meet him at the large Portal Temuco shopping center the next morning.

The hotel was full of charm, consisting of only a few clean, comfortable rooms in the small Pirineos alley, away from the noise of Alemania Avenue. Liang's room was nicely decorated with wood paneling.

He was supposed to meet this guy at the nearby mall, a guy named Pedro Becker, a German name. Pedro said there was something "interesting" to see at Lago Errante.

Liang wondered if the man was reliable. Was it a trap, a man from the sordid Schäfer network?

It was time to go to bed now.  It had been a long day.  Tomorrow they would have to drive for another eight hours to the Lago Errante in the Rio Negro.

The next morning, Liang walked up Hochstetter Street to Alemania Avenue, which he crossed.  When he reached the main street, at the corner of Cruz Verde, Liang was struck by the Americanization of the Chilean environment. The cars, the dimensions, the overhead power lines to the medians, everything showed the North American influence. After all, the local population was German in origin, as was much of the white North American population.

Liang entered the Portal Temuco. Pedro Becker was waiting, as expected, at the Juan Maestro fast-food restaurant. The man was tall, quite strong.  He stood up and gestured imperceptibly to follow him discreetly. Liang followed him to the Antartica bookstore.  There he parked behind a bookcase. As Liang approached, Pedro walked away, leaving a leaf: "Too dangerous. They killed Hermann.  I can't take you to the Lago Errante.  Hua may still be there.  Do not follow me. "

Becker was already walking out, not looking back, and disappearing into the mall. Liang waited inside for a moment, bought the "Chiletur 2017 Zona Sur," a guidebook that gave the top 20 tourist destinations in the area, and the collector's box set of "Luciano Pavarotti and Friends," because the late singer was one of the few who inspired some respect for Western culture.

There was nothing left to do in Temuco. Liang got back in the car and drove to Lago Errante.

Liang left Temuco on the Capaulican Way, the city looked like any North American metropolis. Chile did not seem to care that much about its South American character.

The Pan-American Highway officially took its name from the bridge that spanned the Tolten River, which meandered to the ocean as it flowed into the waters of the Rio Imperial.

MERCENARIES AND GRAND CHEROKEE

When Liang had passed the township of Loncoche for a while and was about to cross the border between Araucania and the Region of Rivers, he spotted a gray Jeep Grand Cherokee following him.

Liang suddenly stepped on the pedal, the Hilux leapt forward, quickly reaching its maximum speed of 170 km/h.  Immediately, the gray vehicle accelerated. Liang was in the middle of nowhere.  The attack was coming anyway, so he might as well rush it.

As Liang had predicted, the Grand Cherokee was faster.  It was gaining ground.

The passenger was rolling down his window! A car that rolled down its windows at more than 150 km/h, in this business, was a very bad sign...

Liang knew perfectly well that if these guys were pros, they were going to shoot out the tires or at him, the driver.  He looked at the landscape around the road.  All around was forest.  It was almost impossible to get off the road. The Hilux was probably better off-road than the Grand Cherokee, but on the highway...

The pursuers were approaching. They were now less than ten meters away. Liang saw a gun! They were going to shoot!

Liang turned the wheel, pulled in front of the Grand Cherokee in the left lane.  He slammed on the brakes.

The driver who was chasing them, surprised, swerved slightly.  But he was a good driver and kept control. Liang accelerated again. He had gained perhaps twenty meters.

He saw the La Paz exit and went straight out onto the S-761.  Already, in the rearview mirror, the Grand Cherokee was appearing.  The guy behind the wheel knew his stuff, but his vehicle would have a harder time on country roads.  As the road turned into a hairpin, Liang put his Toyota onto the narrow country road. He sped through a railroad crossing.  It reminded him of the American TV series "Duke of Hazzard" where Bo Duke and his cousin Luke drove their orange Dodge at full speed on the roads of the American Midwest...

At least on this terrain, it would be harder for the chasers to pull out a gun and adjust. The Grand Cherokee had caught up with Liang's car, making good use of its engine power. Liang almost ran into a car, but the pursuers were still chasing them. Liang drove for several dozen kilometers at full speed on this small country road. The scene looked like a car rally.

The ground was dirt, but not so bad that the Toyota had to make a mark.  It was still pretty shaky. Behind, at least, the shooter had cautiously dropped his plan to shoot them. Regularly, the driver in the back would pretend to hit Liang, to push him into a corner. The guy driving the Jeep was good, he knew what he was doing.  This was going to be complicated.

Liang passed a chicken truck at full speed, brushing past an oncoming man.

Behind them, the Grand Cherokee followed, swerved away from the truck, and hit the pedestrian head-on, sending him flying.

Liang did not brake, nor did their pursuers.  Their vehicle simply had a cracked windshield.  The truck driver honked his horn like crazy.  The pedestrian who had been hit lay motionless, the truck driver was already running towards him. Liang was being followed by two or three determined and obviously experienced killers. If Liang was caught, it would be his turn.

The road was paved again, bad news.  The straight lines gave the Grand Cherokee the advantage. Liang had to swerve regularly to prevent his pursuers from overtaking him.  This was becoming more and more critical. But at worst, he was ready to climb over a fence and continue on into the fields.  Whoever was following him knew this and did not insist. The aim of the killers was probably to lead them to a suitable place to eliminate him. The road ran parallel to a railroad track.  Liang came in sight of Lanco.  This was not good.  He would have to slow down.

Liang suddenly turned right and drove directly onto the railroad tracks.

The car following him hesitated, braked, but stayed on the parallel road.  The risk now was that the gunman would take his rifle and adjust Liang at will from the road, despite the bushes and mounds of earth that protected Liang intermittently.

Liang exited the railroad tracks on the opposite side of the tracks from his pursuers and took a country road that ran along the other side of the tracks, thus being completely out of sight of his pursuers, especially since the road branched off to the right to a dirt road that ran along the Pan American Highway.

Liang rejoined the highway and quickly returned to the original route heading south.  His pursuers had a faster vehicle, but he now had an easy 15-minute head start by taking the "shortcut" through the railroad tracks.  By driving hard to Osorno or San Carlos de Bariloche in Argentina, Liang might be able to get away.  A message from his boss on his cell phone instructed him to slow down.  The Chilean police had been alerted by the Chinese services that were monitoring Liang.

DODGE INTERCEPTOR AND CARABINIERI

A police car was indeed positioned at the exit towards Pureo.  Here, in Chile, the rule of law existed in this kind of situation. Liang, a tourist, was now covered, legally protected by the Chilean carabinieri.

Liang went out to Pureo. A police car, green and white, was indeed parked on the bridge that crossed the highway. Another one was waiting for him directly at the exit of the ramp and invited him to follow it to the bridge surveillance point. Liang admired the beautiful new Dodge Charger Interceptors. The country had acquired some 484 Dodge vehicles with special police equipment, including reinforced armor and suspension, as of 2016.  Chilean police now had not only these interceptor vehicles, but large Durango SUVs and Dodge Ram Police Specials to tackle crime. Police officers in khaki military fatigues and caps were watching the road with binoculars. With their military garb and high caps, they had retained the military character of their origins.  In 1927, it was Colonel Don Carlos Ibanez del Campo himself, vice-president of the republic, who established the carabineros corps by merging it with the customs service.

In impeccable uniforms, these men and women did not seem ready to give away anything.  Several vehicles were currently converging on the area, and an AW-139 helicopter, an Agusta-Westland twin-turbine from the police air division, was monitoring the area.

The fear had changed sides.  It was the turn of the killers of the Grand Cherokee with the cracked windshield to have some concerns...

The Pan-American Highway was cordoned off on both sides; the police would now do their job.  The alert given by the Chinese corroborated that of the truck driver who had alerted earlier, when the Jeep had killed a pedestrian.  Liang was now free to leave, pretty sure that he would not have any more misadventures on the Pan American Highway, at least until the border with Argentina.

As Liang drove quietly back to the highway, he heard a wail of sirens.  The Grand Cherokee was speeding by with two police cars on its tail.  The two Interceptors parked on the bridge were already passing them, sirens blaring.  In the sky, the AW-139 in the green and white colors of the Chilean Carabineros was following the chase from the air.  The guys in the Jeep didn't stand much of a chance.  Liang kept his distance.

It didn't last long. The police cars had quickly rammed the Grand Cherokee further down the highway.  The killers' Jeep swerved several times before ending up at the intersection with T-230 on the right side.  The fugitives' car had crashed into the logs that fenced off the parking lot of an establishment on the left side of the road.  Their car had flipped over and, after a couple of flips, ended up speeding into a pine tree and a ditch about 20 yards away.

Liang parked his car in the parking lot. The police were securing the area. Liang watched as three bodies were pulled out of the vehicle. Liang, seeing the locals approaching the accident, got out of the car and quietly mingled with them, trying to get a closer look at the men.

Because of the blood, it was difficult to judge from a distance, but as far as he could tell, the men had a Mediterranean type, their hair cut short. He tried to look inside the vehicle, but the policemen pushed him away.

The door was open.  Liang spotted an assault rifle, a TAVOR type. It wasn't the gun the man had pulled out during the chase. Surprisingly, he could have done some damage with it, even on trial. Maybe these guys didn't want to kill him right away, but only after they had questioned him.

Liang looked into the car, but saw nothing but white pills that had spilled into the car.

The three men were probably dead. The unnatural angle of the neck of at least one of the men left no doubt.  As for the others, they appeared effectively lifeless and, if not dead, mortally wounded, judging by the serious open wounds and blood...

Liang had also spotted a FN FAL 7.62. He had an idea who had chased him.

NEW PATAGONIA

Liang thought about the New Patagonia project.  A new state was being created in the southern part of Argentina and Chile.  This was creating tensions with the population, the Mapuches in particular.  There were strange Israeli tourists, like his pursuers in jeeps, who had been surveying the area for years, strangely avoiding contact with the population.

Billionaires had been buying up huge properties for decades, which were closed to the public.

Why was this?  Perhaps because Europe was on the verge of collapse and the Middle East and Africa were already in chaos.  The globalist oligarchs were looking for a cushy place to survive the third world war they were starting.

A state within a state was being created, unseen and unheard of.  Reports of these para-military activities worried some members of the military.  But local and national politicians were either bought off or complicit.

In short, it could have something to do with what happened to the San Juan.  The guy from Security, the captain of the frigate in Santiago, had talked about people who wanted to take over Patagonia.

In the twentieth century, after the military coup against General Juan Domingo Perón, the Argentine military junta, anxious to re-establish Argentina's sovereignty, had tried to recover the Falkland Islands, South Georgia and the southern Sandwich Islands.

The British military came to the aid of their compatriots at the end of the world.  Victorious, the British imposed harsh conditions on Argentina, which saw its army reduced to the bare minimum and lost control of its southern air and sea space.

The financiers of the New World Order took advantage of this to gradually establish themselves in Patagonia, under the protection of the American Seals and the British Royal Marines.  The goal of the New World Order was to eventually appropriate Antarctica, whose water reserves would be the white gold of the next centuries.  Moreover, the immense territories of Patagonia were a real Eldorado, its agricultural, energy and mining potential was enormous.

Today, Google Earth blurs the satellite photographs of the area. What was hidden in these regions? The dramatic fate of the San Juan was a warning to those who were too interested in the activities of the New World Order in Antarctica.

The report of the U.S. Office of Naval Intelligence, which peremptorily concluded that the San Juan had imploded, was totally cynical. The ship had been torpedoed somewhere off Tierra del Fuego. They had then organized a huge search in a zone, much further north, where the submarine had never been. One could always search...

The "Iron Mountain Report", from the Hudson Institute to President Lyndon Johnson and Robert McNamara, Secretary of Defense, had recommended a world war that would impose a perpetual war on the entire planet, to ensure the "correct" management of financial flows, economic growth, the social behavior of individuals and official discourse, the exploitation of natural resources. This was the program of the New World Order, of which America was as much a victim as the rest of the world.

A network of think tanks planned the steps to advance the New World Order's goals of domination. The New World Order now had the power to impose its goals and interests around the world, over governments. Finance, economics, politics, universities and the media were in its hands. Roberto Saviano, the Italian journalist prosecuted by the Calabrian Mafia, had sufficiently demonstrated the relationship between the cocaine economy and international finance in his book "Extra pure"...

OSORNO

Liang did not have time to go to the Argentinean border.  It was necessary to find a place to breathe.  Liang did not want to jump into the lion's den right away.  He had to surprise his opponent, and he had an idea.

There was a Sonesta chain establishment. After an hour and a half of uneventful travel, Liang arrived in sight of the city. The sky was sunny, a little overcast in places, the temperature was 21°C, the area was agricultural, apparently quite prosperous. Liang took the northern exit onto the Camino Pilauco and passed the toll booth. Everywhere around the road were large fields, betraying the agricultural vocation of the city, which was known for its annual cattle fair. Liang crossed a bridge over a river and entered the city. The streets were wide and pleasant, with trees. The houses were one or two stories high. The walls of the stadiums and factories were strangely tagged with frescoes of colorful street-art, quite out of place. Before crossing the bridge over the Rahue River, Liang caught a glimpse of part of the historic wall of Queen Luisa's fort, with its 16th-century bell tower, on his right.  The few streets that separated them from the hotel were surrounded by rather modest wooden houses and sheds sometimes surrounded by the usual and inevitable sheet metal walls.

The hotel overlooked the river.  It was a huge white complex with a curved, modern façade. An employee parked the car and Liang entered the vast reception hall. The ceiling was quite high, the decoration modern, using furniture made of weathered trunks and colored ropes quite successful, probably recalling the original Mapuche culture. Liang took the presidential suite, which was the price he paid for his suicide mission.

Liang had his reasons. The job was dangerous enough, he had to find some compensation. 120 square meters, divided into spacious two rooms, overlooking the river and the city, with a huge living room and dining room, where a long table sat that could seat ten people, it was a bit oversized, but the day was enough of a reminder that it could all end abruptly. 

Liang propped himself up on one of the gray sofas in the living room and called the military security guy he'd met in Santiago, Maximiliano Ugarte Valls.

The man answered after only three rings. "Hello, Mr. Valls?  This is Liang.  "

Ah! How are you?

Not bad, considering some trouble on the Pan American Highway today...

Yes, I know about that.  I told you, your stay in Patagonia could be dangerous...

May I have a word with you, Mr. Valls?...

THE WAY OF THE AIR

"El Chronista commercial", the financial newspaper of Buenos Aires, had published an article.  It was entitled "Debt for Territory" and it described the proposal to exchange Argentina's public debt for part of the Argentine territory.  They promised to reduce Argentina's public debt if they were given land in exchange.  Patagonia was particularly vital to their plan.

There was an Argentine consulting firm, Giacobbe y Asociados, that organized a survey in the Patagonian province of Chubut for a multinational company. They were polling the people to see if they would agree to give up their rights to their Antarctic territories in order to erase the debt, if they would agree to merge the provinces of Río Negro, Chubut, Santa Cruz and Tierra del Fuego to create their future state...

In Argentina and Chile, huge territories were bought by "environmentalist" billionaires.  "

To believe them.  All these multinationals and billionaires were suddenly very concerned about the preservation of the Patagonian prairies... They privatized lakes, mountains, tourist areas, built private airports that received military jumbo jets. Some had real private armies in the area.  Successive governments in Argentina and Chile were corrupt or complicit.

Captain Valls was disgusted. He and Liang had decided to cooperate fully on this mission.

Liang left the Toyota in the hotel parking lot, and someone else would come and drive it to the rental agency in Santiago.

Liang had contacted the Chilean distributor of Spanish autogyros, manufactured by Ela Aviacion in Cordoba. Liang had thought of this solution immediately after his "problem" on the Pan-American Highway. If the road was too dangerous, there was always the sea or the air.  Given the fate of the San Juan, there was a chance that the waters of Patagonia would be populated by dangerous fish...

So Liang was going to try the quickest solution: the air route. He thought of Gonzalo Rodríguez, the former star journalist of the CQC program on the Argentine channel Trece, who had reached the lagoon by air, after realizing that the roads had been closed and that the alternative route, supposedly "negotiated" between the governor and the billionaire, was a dangerous and impractical joke.

The autogyro was a means of transportation that Liang was particularly fond of, especially since these machines could not stall, nor could they suffer engine failure. Liang also liked the fact that these machines could land almost on the spot and take off quickly. The great advantage of the autogyro over all other forms of flight was its indifference to engine failure, since it did not affect the rotor's behavior. An autogyro could land almost anywhere.

The distributor he had called was in Santiago, Chile. It would take months to get a new one delivered. But the guy had finally told him about a customer in Osorno who was selling his on the side of the city cemetery on Guillermo Hollstein Road, on the way to the airport.

Two hours later, Liang was contemplating the machine.  It was a beautiful two-seater ELA 07-Scorpion. It was perfect with its raised fairing to protect from the cold, heated seats, and a classic 115 hp Rotax 914 UL Turbo engine.  Liang paid the owner in cash.  As the owner began to notice that Liang had not brought a vehicle for transportation, Liang simply smiled, put his bag in the aircraft and, in the simplest way possible, took off into the field itself, under the astonished gaze of the seller.

The weather was perfect, 21 degrees Celsius, with a light wind and clear sky, a beautiful summer day in Chile.  Liang turned the plane south to follow, from a distance, the road U-55-V that went towards Ralún, in the Lakes region.  Liang avoided getting close to the road and flew low enough not to alert the police.  He wasn't sure he was flying legally...  He planned to fly directly to the Lago Errante across the Argentinean border.

Liang flew in the middle of fields as far as the eye could see.

Liang left the Rupanco lake on his right, flew over the laguna Bonita. Liang took the road between the snow-capped Osorno volcano and Lake Llanquihue.  Below, the fields had given way to the forest. 

LAGO ERRANTE

Arrived in sight of Ralún.  Liang landed in front of the Mirador del Petrohue, a tiny cottage that served him a grilled salmon from the nearby river in a warm and relaxed atmosphere.  The people who came there were cyclists, hikers and fishing enthusiasts.  After the meal, Liang took his gyroplane and took off amidst the laughter of the guests.

From there, it became more difficult: there was no direct route from Ralún to Lago Errante and few visual landmarks. Liang hoped to pass south of Lake Cormaz Vidal and dive south.  He gained altitude to navigate by sight.

Below, it was now just mountains and dense forest.  Liang soon arrived above Tagua-Tagua Lake and realized that he had gone too far west. Liang tried to avoid the mountains so as not to be noticed by the customs or the military when crossing the border.

Finally, Liang came into sight of the Wandering Lake, or rather, one of the two smaller lakes that preceded the larger one, the one where Hua would most likely be found.

Liang immediately called his local contact: "Matias?  That was Liang, I'm coming to the lake?  Where are you?  "

What do you mean, "on the lake"?  Where did you go?  Which car did you use?

I came by air, I have an autogyro.

An "auto what", amigo?

Don't worry, I have a small, ultra-light plane.  I don't need much, a hundred meters at most.  Where do I land?

What are you, James Bond?  Well, you go around the property.  They have paramilitaries who could start shooting at you.  I'll wait for you in El Foyel.  You'll see, it was a small hamlet to the northeast.

Okay, see you soon.

See you soon, amigo

The main lake appeared, in the hollow of two mountains.  Liang did not want to venture over the mountains and decided to stay low and try to fly over the property as quickly as possible.  He flew to the left, as far away from the main villa and the houses as possible.

Liang flew over a sports field, with a soccer field in the middle.  There were many people below, several hundred men on the field, who looked at them intently, motionless, not necessarily friendly.  He didn't think it appropriate to wave to them.

There were still several buildings behind the main villa overlooking the lake. A little further on, still on their right, Liang saw several farm buildings.  Here too, there were many people watching them, still dangerously still.

Liang saw the helicopter landing pad. It was a bad sign that there were no helicopters.

Liang knew that the billionaire had at least one Bell 429 twin-engine helicopter, which could easily catch up with the autogyro in case of a chase.

Liang looked up at the sky above him.  He saw nothing and continued on. Liang saw another building with a round roof, two more bungalows a little farther on with, again, a lot of guys around looking at them, some running as if to alert someone.  Liang moved away quickly.

Below, it was the forest again, dense and wild, everywhere.  Below, Liang saw the RN 40 winding through the trees.  He flew over several more farm buildings and some cultivated fields.  It was huge and there were still men everywhere.  Some of them were in military uniforms.  Liang saw yet another stadium with lots of buildings and cars all around.

With all these buildings and this army of men, it would be hard to look for Hua. She could be in any of these buildings. The property was said to be over 10,000 hectares, the size of a state...

It was imperative that "Matias" help her. This contact was named after the Mapuche leader, Matias Catrileo, who had been assassinated ten years earlier.

Liang did not know much about this Mapuche Indian.  Along with Hermann, who had unfortunately passed away, "Matias" was Liang's other key person for this mission. If he disappeared, Liang had no one to talk to in Chile.

EL FOYEL

Liang followed the N40 from a distance, so as not to be spotted.  El Foyel was a town of about 100 people.  Liang decided to land on a sports field to the left of the road, on what appeared to be the center of the small town.  He called back to Matias, "I'm here.  "

- Don't move, we saw you. Someone is coming to get you.

Liang waited.  After about ten minutes, an old green Lada 4X4 Niva arrived. At the wheel, a young Indian woman was driving alone. She motioned for him to get in, without moving. Liang took his bag and got into the car. On board, Liang did not exchange any words with the young woman.

This Indian woman, despite her slim figure, seemed very strong. Her eyes were cold and determined. The trip took about twenty minutes. The girl drove very fast through the dirt roads, among the trees of the hill. She obviously knew all the details.

"Matias" was a contact that Liang's department had found through Padre Francisco Oliveira Paz, who belonged to the Collective of Sacerdotes de la Opción por los Pobres, well known for its support of the Mapuche.

"Matias" was an important man, said Father Paz, one of the warlords in the struggle between the Mapuche and the New World Order and its supporters in the Argentine and Chilean governments, the police and the army.

But his father had warned him: "Matias" and his men had been living in hiding for twenty years.  Several attempts had been made to assassinate him.  He was a man at war, he was very suspicious.  It would be difficult to gain his trust.  He could have bad reactions.

MATIAS

They came to the end of a path, walked for another twenty minutes through the forest.

They arrived at a natural cave at the foot of a cliff.  There were several men, Indians and Métis of all ages, standing around a massive Indian, about fifty years old, with long hair held in place by an embroidered red headband.  The men around him were burly, their faces closed, some openly hostile.  These men were at war.

Liang knew this atmosphere well, he knew it too well.  Those looks said he was an invader, an enemy like the foreign billionaires who were stealing Mapuche land, dangerous like their mercenary armies, a parasite like Dr. Schäfer's thugs who were slaughtering recalcitrant Mapuches.  And he had come for nothing more than to save another foreigner, Hua, a military woman who knew nothing about their lives...

Liang smiled at "Matias" and said, by way of introduction, "Hello Matias, thank you for your help on the phone.  "

It wasn't me you had on the phone, Chino.  Give me your phone, now.  Search it.

The man's voice did not match the one Liang had heard on the phone. The men approached Liang a little too quickly. They grabbed him, aggressively.  He kneed the first man in the stomach, hit another, grabbed his hand, twisted it.  One man was on the ground, another had grunted in pain. But these men were tough on pain, hardy, solid. They were still moving forward. Liang was hitting hard now.  One man hit him in the head and he lost consciousness.

He woke up later when a bucket of ice water was thrown in his face.  Night had fallen.  He was bound and gagged, lying on the floor, his face crushed by a foot placed on his neck.  Another bucket was spilled on his head.  He suffocated.  By the looks of it, he was in a wooden shack.  The room seemed cramped, the floor smelled bad.  From the number of feet he could see and the noise he could hear, there were several men around him.

The Mapuche chief arrived: "You're lucky, Chino, you've come from Padre Francisco Oliveira Paz. We won't do anything to you, but we don't care about your story. You're going to take your flying machine and fly away from here.  If we find you around here, you'll end up in a hole or in the mountains, feeding the vultures. Dejate, idiota."

The man was already gone.  With his gag in place, Liang could not answer.  He was lifted off the ground and carried to a car, an old Chevrolet, and thrown violently into the trunk, which was closed on him.  The trip seemed to take a long time.  At least, the conditions under which he was traveling made the experience extremely long and painful.  His head and body banged roughly against the floor and the trunk lid.  The driver of the car seemed to be enjoying the ride like crazy, taking every bump in the road with a laugh.

When they pulled him out of the trunk, Liang was unable to move, his body aching, broken.  The men dropped him again, one last time, high to the ground.  He let out another muffled grunt of pain, greeted by the laughter of his tormentors.  The men sped off in their car.  These guys were really vindictive.

The touch of the grass on the field was cool and pleasant on Liang's face.  He let out an involuntary grunt from his lips along with a stream of blood-tinged drool.  His facial muscles were numb, his jaw leaden, a broken tooth perhaps.  The guys hadn't gone easy on him, he was completely out of it.

WAR OF PACIFICATION

When he was able to get up after an hour, there was a paper beside him.  "It was written in a woman's hand, perhaps the girl who had driven him.

Several press articles reported the attacks of groups of Mapuches wearing balaclavas and carrying weapons against the large estancias, the one in Lago Errante as well as the others, attacking the employees, the machinery, and generally setting the place on fire.

These acts were, more and more, claimed by a mysterious Resistancia Ancestral Mapuche.

Sabotage and killings, such as those carried out by "Mapuche terrorists" conveniently hooded, were getting out of control.

Matias Catrileo, Francisco Painevilo, Francisca Linconao, Victor Queipul and many other Mapuche prisoners in the Lebu prison were treated as terrorists, some tortured, simply for opposing their expulsion from their ancestral lands. The Indians' exasperation probably stemmed from this kind of treatment, which dated back to the first encounters between Indians and Spanish colonizers, long before the "war of pacification.

The Mapuche Indians, indigenous inhabitants of Patagonia (200,000 in Argentina, 600,000 in Chile), formerly known as Araucans, demanded recognition of their rights to areas confiscated by billionaires, such as those of the Benetton firm.  There were already dead, martyrs.  Every day, a little more, the conditions were being created for secession, under the pretext of the defense of an oppressed minority.  All this was to the benefit of the New World Order.

Liang's telephone, which had been confiscated by the Indians, was lying beside him with his bundle.  He saw several lighted houses on the other side of the sports field.  He went to knock to ask if there was a hotel.  He was given an address, the Reserva, a lodge that was about two kilometers away.  It was 9:30 pm. It was a little late, but it was possible.

THE RESERVA

A pretty varnished wooden sign read: "La Reserva El Foyel cabanas panoramicas".

Liang parked his car out of sight on the property.

The main building, a large pine cabin, was beautiful. The room was very nice, with a beautiful view, apparently, of the surrounding nature. Once the door was closed, Liang dragged himself to the bathtub.

He soaked in the hot bath, fell asleep, and woke up almost drowning. He dragged himself back to bed, exhausted.

The next morning, when Liang woke up, the view was as beautiful as he had expected the day before.  The weather was beautiful and the room, which was entirely clad in wood, was a delight.  From the window, the hundred-acre property stretched as far as the eye could see.  There was a pond below where several birds had gathered.  There were even sheep grazing nearby.

Liang felt better.  His aching body had enjoyed the night.  Viviana Pangares, the owner, was offering massages with essential oils to repair "tired bodies," Liang took advantage of an emergency session.

When Liang plugged in his phone, he saw that there was a message from Maximiliano Ugarte Valls, a military security guy. He listened to the message, Valls informed him that they were almost certain that Officer Hua was alive in Puerto Tranquilo. Liang immediately informed his superiors.  The operation had to be prepared there.

After his massage session, Liang refueled the plane and took off.  Officer Hua might still be alive.

AMAZONIA AS FAR AS THE EYE CAN SEE

The weather was gray, with a temperature of only 11 degrees Celsius, fortunately without wind.  Liang quickly turned west to reach Chile.  Below the autogyro, there were forests as far as the eye could see.  Liang passed between the Andean mountains and crossed the border at the town and Lake Puelo.  Liang knew he was in Chile when he flew over Lake Inferior.  He had to go back up to Las Rocas Lake to get through the Cordillera mountains, which he could not cross.  At Rio Negro, Liang finally turned sharply south, towards Isla Pelada.  The weather was still overcast, but it was a little warmer.

The air was still cold, despite the heater and the heated seats in the cabin.  Liang flew down to the coastline, both because he had to fly there, as the mountains took up space on the horizon, and because he was looking for warmer temperatures.  Liang flew over the fields between the sea and the Cholgo Mountains, flying over the huge fish farming areas.  Liang followed the historic coastal road.

When he reached the township of Hualaihue, it started to rain heavily.  It was 10°C, and Liang quickly landed the plane on the grounds of the San Ignacio del Huinay Foundation, at the foot of the mountain, just above the bungalows that overlooked the bay.

The place was heavenly, despite the rain.  The Foundation's team of scientists from the prestigious Catholic University of Valparaiso gave him a very warm welcome and offered to share their meal, before offering to spend the night.

Liang had to decline.  The weather had improved a bit.  He took off again, regretfully leaving this beautiful place populated by advanced humans.

Below, it was still only forests and lagoons.  Liang saw very little human activity.  The region still looked pristine, unfortunately available for the New World Order.

He flew over muddy deltas, over rivers whose names he did not know.  Liang cut his route as short as possible, reducing the travel time, which would have taken more than fifteen hours by road, to half that.

PUERTO CISTES

He chose to stop at Puerto Cistes, halfway along the route.  The weather was again overcast, but it was relatively warm, about 19°C.

Liang took a slight detour to the right, so as not to arrive too steeply at the town, which was overlooked by a cliff.  He flew over the pier and several fishing boats before getting closer to the beach and following the coast road, passing, at low altitude, over the mouth of the river that had given its name to the town, which had little more than 2000 inhabitants.

He stopped in front of the Lansquenet Antu Hostal-Restaurant.  It was a small, modest, family-run establishment in a town where tourism was not yet well developed.  To understand the enclave situation of Puerto Cisnes, it was enough to say that the road to get there was only partially paved and that, from the neighboring Argentina, it was a gravel road...

The wooden building was right in front of a lagoon.  It was charming.  The fishermen's boats were lined up just across the street on a concrete slab that sloped directly into the water.  There was a pedestrian walkway that ran the length of it, with lampposts and benches to contemplate the view at your leisure.

Liang entered the restaurant.  The interior was all wood, the backs of the chairs were high, made of solid wood.  A wood stove sat in the center of the room and a black upright piano sat at the back of the room waiting to be played.  Local crafts reminded us that we were in the Mapuche region.  One of the tables was free just in front of the large French windows that did not hide the beautiful view.  Liang ate some absolutely perfect hake fillets.

After the meal, Liang collapsed from exhaustion on one of the benches, facing the sea.  He slept for more than half an hour.  The place was sublime.  Liang would have liked to stay there longer, but there was a fellow countrywoman who was currently living with the anguish of being detained without knowing her fate.

EMERGENCY LANDING

In one minute, Liang took off.  It was still four hours away.  He continued along the coastline, around the snow-capped mountains.

Suddenly, at Quitralco, it began to rain down in torrents.  The temperature had fallen to 11°C.

The rain fell so hard that Liang could not see.  He walked down towards Quitralco, which he could not see.  He walked along the river whose mouth he had seen, hoping to reach the city.

The situation became extremely worrying.  He could not see anything, not even his instruments.

He saw the glow of a sandbank below him and decided to land on it.

Around him, on the ground, everything was drowned by the furious summer rain.  Liang covered himself with a tarp and fell asleep.

When he woke up, the rain had finally stopped.  Everything was soaked.  Liang worried that the river might flood, but nothing changed around him.

Now it was dark.  Liang was alone, in the middle of a dense and humid forest, lost on a sandy spit in the middle of a river, near a city that seemed to exist only on the map.  He went back to sleep, exhausted.

At the first light of dawn, Liang realized that he had landed on a sand dune, in the middle of a river bed that snaked through an impenetrable forest. There was no time to lose. If another rainstorm came, Liang would be stuck there forever, in the middle of nowhere.

The soaked sand sank beneath his feet.  The wheels of the gyrocopter had sunk.

After exhausting himself moving the machine for takeoff, he painstakingly removed all obstacles, branches and debris deposited by the current and tried to tamp down the sand in a straight line using a piece of the fuselage. He estimated that the take-off distance was 85 meters at the most. It was a bit tight, on paper...

All the debris proved, by the way, that the river was sometimes in flood...  He started the engine. The rain was falling again, Liang suppressed a cry of rage.

Faced with the wind, unfortunately weak, he pressed full throttle while maintaining the brake, then suddenly released the brake. The gyrocopter leaped, darted, and bounced off something.  The gyrocopter had taken off. Liang narrowly avoided the top of a tree and gained altitude.

The gyrocopter headed south-southeast. Liang thought he could fly directly across the mountain range, in a corridor that led directly to the huge General Carrera Lake, called Buenos Aires Lake on the Argentine side, on the shores of which was Puerto Rio Tranquilo. Liang followed a river that meandered through the snow-capped mountains and into the lake for its entire length.  He could see no trace of human life below.

PUERTO RIO TRANQUILLO

Liang arrived, at last, at the General Carrera Lake, also under the clouds. He called a man named Eladio, the contact that Captain Valls had given him: "Hello, I'm arriving in sight of Puerto Rio Tranquilo.

- OK, I'll wait for you at the corner of road X-728, which descends from Lago Tranquilo above the city, and Exploradores Street.

Liang advanced to the lake and gained altitude to spot Lago Tranquilo, high above the city and Highway X-728.

He landed along a stream and arrived exactly in front of a sign that touted the river's site improvements: "obras que unen Chilenos" There was no one there.  Liang positioned himself a little higher up, at the opening of a field, ready to step on the gas and take off if it was a trap.

After about twenty minutes, a small Mitsubishi Colt approached.  The man on board noticed the gyrocopter and pulled up next to it.  He was a man with a moustache, very dark.  He said, without introduction: "You have to leave your machine.  You are here in a military zone, they must have spotted you.  I'll take you there.  If we get arrested, I just picked you up hitchhiking, okay?"

- Is Hua alive?

- Yes, but she must be seriously banged up.

Liang parked the gyrocopter, ready to take off, in an open field.  He took his bag and got into the car.

They drove to the small town. It was a tiny town of wooden shacks, a few streets that formed a right-angle grid. Liang drove along Route 7 on the coastline. Liang noticed a busload of Chinese tourists stopping at the Mate y Truco restaurant. Along with the usual old people, there were a few young couples, a few young men alone.  The Chinese commandos were there...

Liang had information about this submarine base that had been secretly ceded to the Israelis.  It was said that this base had a huge network of D.U.M.B. (Deep Underground Military Bases) tunnels, facilities that could survive polar winters and serve as a nuclear shelter.  Liang suspected that the facility was crucial to the New World Order's plans for the new Patagonian state.  All those military personnel cruising the area had to be serving a purpose...

Eladio continued: "The camp was guarded 24 hours a day by armed men.  Do you know how to do that?  "

Liang did not answer.  The camp was receiving weapons from the Falkland Islands, with the help of German Dolphin submarines, to support, with substantial military means, the coming "independence" of Patagonia.  This was what the San Juan had come to observe.

Eladio watched Liang on the sly.  With his air of harmless coolie, who would have thought that this guy was able to get through so many obstacles.

Eladio thought it would take a lot of people of this Chinese guy's caliber to save Argentina. Liang was the counter-poison to those fake Israeli vacationers, those military men in civilian clothes, who had been invading the Magallanes peninsula, on the shores of Lake Argentino, facing the Perito Moreno glacier for decades.

How were we going to get rid of these fake groups of backpackers that moved around Argentina and Chile, always in groups, like military formations?  How were we going to get rid of these billionaires who bought entire landscapes?

Some of the Israeli "tourists" had the aggressive behaviors symptomatic of soldiers who had participated in combat.  San Carlos de Bariloche, in Argentine Patagonia, had become their meeting place. Recently, they had organized a new outreach program called "jovenes sin fronteras".  These young people claimed to be helping the poor and disadvantaged.  They organized soup kitchens, collaborated in humanitarian programs in difficult neighborhoods.  This seduction operation was, of course, unanimously supported by the press and the Argentine leaders who applauded with tears in their eyes.

Argentine Patagonia, Eladio thought, had already been given to the globalist New World Order in exchange for a debt that he himself had caused.

In Chilean Patagonia, we also found these soldiers disguised as backpackers.  There, in the absence of debt, the strategy was to provoke "natural" disasters, as in the 2011 fires, so that the region would one day be placed under the "protection" of an international "environmentalist" organization subject to the interests of the New World Order.  In Chile, too, there were huge properties bought by billionaires who financed presidential campaigns...

Liang bought some milk rolls and a bottle of water at Panaderia Laurita on El Salto Street before returning to the car.  He checked the engine of the aircraft, refueled it.

The Scorpion 07 weighed 275 kilos empty, could carry 225 kilos of load.  If he and Hua were added together, it would not reach 140 kilos.  Unless Hua is an obese person registered in the Guinness Book of Records, it had to pass...

LIBERATION

An hour later, Liang received a call.  The Chinese commandos, among the best in the world, had succeeded.  Liang started the autogyro.

Eladio arrived at full speed. Liang waited for him, opened the back door, and grabbed Hua.  The young woman was unconscious, but breathing.  She was far from being able to compete in the heavyweight category of the Guinness Book of World Records...

Liang carefully placed her in the gyrocopter.  He took his place as pilot.  Eladio had already disappeared.

Liang took off, the road was slightly sloping.  The gyrocopter took off without any problem, overtaking the hill and the electric wires of the coastal road 7 before diving back down to five meters above the waves.

The crossing took less than an hour.  A Bell 222 was waiting, as agreed, at a deserted spot on the coast at the mouth of the river that runs near the Argentine village of Los Antiguos.

Three men carried Hua into the helicopter.  Liang climbed aboard.

In the helicopter, a doctor and a nurse were already busy with Hua.  The medical officer gave a reassuring opinion.  Hua needed treatment, but her heart was beating.

The chopper headed for General Enrique Mosconi Airport in Comodoro Rivadavia, on the Atlantic coast, where an unmarked plane was waiting.

Another plane was waiting to take Liang to Montevideo and then to China.