31: Chapter 31 Ascending to the Emperor's Hall at Dusk

Inside the shooting range, Maya set the Glock 19 back on the table and walked to the adjacent lane, where an M4 carbine was placed.

She picked up the rifle, pressed it into her shoulder pocket, gripped the handle with her right hand, supported the handguard with her left, rested her cheek against the stock, and aligned the sights with the target.

"Do you want to try this?"

Chen Mu was still standing in front of the pistol lane; he could occasionally hit the five-ring mark now.

He set down his gun, walked over to Maya, and looked down at the M4.

"An M4 assault rifle," Maya said, her fingers tracing the handguard. "This is the model issued by our police department. It's 5.56mm caliber with a thirty-round magazine and an effective range of about 500 meters."

She handed the rifle to Chen Mu. "You give it a try."

Chen Mu shook his head.

Maya looked at him. "Are you done shooting?"

"I'll watch you shoot first."

Maya smiled, shouldered the rifle, and pulled the trigger rapidly at the target.

The intervals between the firing pin strikes grew shorter and shorter, and the sound of shell casings hitting the floor was incessant.

Chen Mu watched her focused eyes and saw the excitement in her gaze.

As she emptied the last magazine and set the rifle down, she turned around, a fine layer of sweat on her forehead.

Chen Mu handed her a bottle of water. "Aren't you a police officer? Why are you so excited about shooting?"

Maya took the water, took a big gulp, and complained, "Our police department has a fixed monthly quota for ammunition."

"Fifty rounds for the pistol and thirty for the rifle per month. Once they're gone, they're gone. If you want to practice more, you have to pay out of your own pocket at a shooting range."

"The ammo at those ranges is insanely expensive—a single pistol round costs several cents, and rifle rounds are even pricier. My monthly salary, after taxes, rent, my sister's tuition, and her braces installments..."

She counted on her fingers. "The money left over isn't enough to shoot even a few rounds."

She picked up the M4 magazine from the table and spun it between her fingers. "In this one hour, I've shot through our police department's entire six-month rifle ammo quota."

Chen Mu saw she wasn't quite finished yet. "If you want to shoot more, you can go ahead."

Hearing this, the smile on Maya's face stiffened. She suddenly realized that she had been sent here to seduce Chen Mu, yet she had ended up having too much fun and left him standing on the sidelines.

Maya quickly picked up the M4 to make amends. "Um, let me teach you how to shoot an assault rifle! This is even more stress-relieving than a pistol!"

Before Chen Mu could answer, the door to the shooting range was pushed open.

Advisor Cole stood at the doorway. "Mr. Ambassador, the plane to New York is ready. The United Nations General Assembly will convene on time at nine tomorrow morning. We must depart now."

Chen Mu nodded. "Maya is my secretary; let her come with me."

Cole's gaze shifted from Chen Mu to Maya. "No problem. Ms. Maya's luggage will be delivered before takeoff. Let's go."

The three walked through the corridor and arrived at the entrance of the West Wing of the Presidential Palace. Three black Chevrolet Suburbans were waiting in the driveway, with Secret Service agents standing by at the doors, ready for action.

Overhead, the rotors of three Black Hawk helicopters were slowly accelerating. The roar changed from a low hum to a sharp screech, tearing the air into invisible layers of waves.

On both sides of the motorcade, the eight-wheel drive systems of four stryker armored vehicles had been engaged. The remote weapon stations on the roofs were slowly rotating, their barrels scanning every window, every rooftop, and every corner where something might be hidden.

Further away, snipers lay on the rooftops with spotters beside them.

Secret Service sniper teams, Navy SEAL sniper teams, Delta Force sniper teams.

They were unaware of each other's presence, but their scopes collectively formed an optical network covering the entire route from the White House to Joint Base Andrews without a single blind spot.

Chen Mu bent down and sat in the back seat of the middle Suburban. Maya followed him in, the hem of her dark blue dress spreading out over her knees.

Cole sat in the front passenger seat and closed the door.

The motorcade drove out of the Presidential Palace West Wing driveway. The Black Hawks turned overhead, the roar of their rotors drowning out the sound of the engines.

Two stryker armored vehicles were at the front and two at the rear of the motorcade, like a pack of metallic beasts escorting their young.

The snipers' scopes moved with the motorcade, their crosshairs constantly aimed behind every window on both sides of the road.

It can be said that in terms of pageantry, the United States had pulled out all the stops for Chen Mu.

Maya looked out the window. Since martial law had not yet been lifted, there were no pedestrians on the streets.

On the streets, there was a stryker armored vehicle every few intersections, the gunners on top wearing goggles, their barrels also slowly scanning the buildings on both sides.

At Joint Base Andrews, a blue and white Boeing 747 was parked on the runway, the emblem of the United States printed on its fuselage, and the Stars and Stripes on the tail flapping in the afternoon wind.

This was the world-famous air force one, and one of President Trump's favorite things to do was hold press conferences on board.

The boarding stairs had already been lowered. Chen Mu walked up, the hem of his charcoal gray suit fluttering in the wind.

Maya followed behind him, the hem of her dark blue dress pressed against her legs by the residual wind from the rotors.

Cole was the last to board, and the cabin door closed behind her.

The interior of the cabin looked nothing like a regular passenger plane. The seats were large leather sofa chairs that could recline completely flat.

In front of each chair was a wooden desk with a desk lamp glowing with warm yellow light.

Several oil paintings hung on the walls, depicting the wilderness and sunsets of the American West.

Chen Mu sat down in the window seat, and Maya sat down next to him.

Across the aisle, one row behind them, Cole opened his laptop, his light blue eyes behind rimless glasses fixed on the documents constantly refreshing on the screen.

The plane began to taxi. The roar of the engines came from outside the fuselage, the plane vibrated, and then it lifted off the ground.

Outside the windows of air force one, four F-35 Lightning II fighter jets were forming a formation.

Two were outside the left wing, and two were on the right, close enough for Chen Mu to see the reflection of the indium tin oxide coating on the pilots' helmets in the cockpits.

Under the wings of each F-35 were two AIM-120 medium-range air-to-air missiles and two AIM-9X Sidewinder short-range missiles. These missiles were sufficient to buy precious reaction time for air force one should it encounter a missile attack from another country.

Chen Mu leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and enjoyed it all.

He really felt like the saying, "A peasant in the morning, ascending to the halls of power by dusk."

From the most inconspicuous homeless person in the United States to being treated as an honored guest by the United States, it had only taken him seventy-two hours.

Maya also withdrew her gaze from the window. "I've only ever seen this kind of spectacle on TV before."

"When the President travels abroad, the news broadcasts it: F-16s, F-35s, aerial tankers, AWACS—an entire formation."

"I used to wonder what it would feel like to be the person sitting in this plane."

Chen Mu looked at her with a smile. "So, do you know now?"

Maya nodded. "Yeah, my feeling right now is that the pressure is immense."

"I imagine this is how the President feels sitting on this plane! After all, the burden of a nation rests on his shoulders."

Chen Mu said, "You have a saying on Blue Star: 'Heavy is the head that wears the crown!'"

"I think that's what it means. Relax, you'll get used to it."

"Yeah!"