Chapter 955: A Profound Misunderstanding
The gang leader had devised a meticulous plan. First, create a disturbance in the hotel, then infiltrate Laila's room—its location already scouted.
Though she was surrounded by bodyguards, he was convinced those foreign protectors were nothing more than human shields, their skills no match for his battle-hardened men who had weathered countless storms. Moreover, they held an overwhelming numerical advantage. Once guns were drawn, those timid foreigners would surely comply without resistance!
Why did the gang leader believe all foreigners were cowardly? Therein lay a profound misunderstanding.
After news spread that Laila was filming her new movie in South Africa, many foreign tourists flocked to see what had captivated the renowned director. The breathtaking landscapes featured in 'The Lord of the Rings' had become globally acclaimed, drawing floods of visitors after the film's release.
Most importantly, these tourists hoped for a chance encounter with Laila herself—making their long journey worthwhile.
For the local underworld, these tourists were a boon. A mere flash of a gun, and they would obediently hand over their cash as if trained to do so. After several such incidents, the gangsters formed a firm impression: foreigners were easily intimidated.
This was, of course, a misconception—yet not entirely unfounded. The "hand over cash when threatened" response 'was', in a way, "trained." In her past life, Laila had heard from friends in the U.S. and other regions with rampant gun violence that carrying "mugging money" was standard advice—better to lose cash than risk injury.
This very misunderstanding led the gang to dismiss Laila and her security team as easy targets, ripe for the taking.
The boss had already planned the next steps. South Africa was surrounded by unstable neighboring countries. Once abducted and taken to some remote location where no one would recognize her, she would have no recourse. A couple of extra guards would ensure her compliance.
If she cooperated and dutifully made films to fill his coffers, he 'might' eventually release her—sparing her life so she could reunite with her family.
As for when he would have "earned enough"? That depended entirely on his whims.
The thought of soon lounging in luxury while money rolled in filled him with a warm, almost spa-like contentment.
Had Laila known his delusions, she would have laughed at their naivety. Leaving aside whether he could even capture her, what could she—a lone director—achieve without resources?
Even if a film were somehow produced, what about distribution? Marketing?
No movie, no matter how exceptional, could achieve significant box office success without promotion. While word-of-mouth might spark minor success, proper marketing could turn that into a blockbuster.
Unfortunately, Laila remained unaware that she had become the gang leader's new target, her focus still fixed on Roy and Leonardo's safety.
But the boss's confidence evaporated upon arriving at the hotel—it was now swarming with soldiers. Ordinary guests needed to present identification; journalists underwent rigorous vetting. The security was tighter than a presidential detail.
"What's going on?" The boss yanked his right-hand man forward. "Didn't you scout this place and say we could waltz right in?" He was certain that if they tried entering now, they'd be arrested before even stepping through the door—let alone explaining why they were armed.
His subordinate was equally baffled. "An hour ago, these soldiers weren't here!"
The boss shoved him aside in frustration. Entry was now impossible, and kidnapping Laila was out of the question. Were billions of dollars truly slipping through his fingers?
He believed this was a divine opportunity—seize it, and unimaginable wealth would be his. With money, he could do anything in his own country. Even the president would have to show him respect.
And if things turned sour domestically, he could simply take his fortune and emigrate. What nation would turn away a wealthy man?
"Boss, even if we can't grab her now, she'll have to leave to film eventually. Those soldiers can't protect her around the clock!" The subordinate seized the chance to salvage his reputation.
After a moment's thought, the boss nodded. "You're right. Have our men monitor them closely—I want to know everything about the crew's movements."
"Yes! This time, there won't be any mistakes!"
Casting a resentful glance at the hotel, the boss led his men away.
Meanwhile, oblivious to the near-catastrophe, Laila was conversing with Fosca.
The South African government had dispatched 200 soldiers to protect the crew. While this might seem modest, it was a significant commitment for the country. Their equipment might not match the private bodyguards' or mercenaries' high-tech gear, but their presence eased Laila's mind considerably.
If trouble arose, mercenaries or bodyguards intervening could lead to complications—especially if violence erupted. As foreigners, they were ill-suited to handle such situations. The soldiers, however, could neutralize threats with minimal fallout—even lethal force would require nothing more than a written report.
"Thank you for your support. If possible, I'd like to depart as soon as we can," Laila said. After days of delays, her unease had grown. Whether it was paranoia or intuition, she felt an urgent need to leave the city. Once they reached their filming location, those targeting Roy and Leonardo would likely back off—their influence couldn't stretch that far.
Fosca sounded almost wistful. "Must you leave so soon? You've been cooped up in the hotel—you haven't even seen the best of South Africa!" Privately, he hoped she'd tour the city, giving journalists photo ops with stunning local backdrops.
Laila refused firmly. "I wish we could stay longer, but time isn't on our side. Perhaps once filming wraps, we'll have time to explore properly."
Fosca brightened at this. The sooner they finished, the more days they'd have for tourism—and free publicity at key landmarks.
"Then let's set out!" he agreed.