Betrayed by the Father Reborn in His Rival's Arms novel Chapter 303

The bald leader waited outside for a few seconds. Seeing the occupants of the car remaining completely still, he grew irritated, raised his shotgun, and fired a blast into the air.

The gunshot echoed through the valley, the sound waves rippling outward in endless succession.

His men followed suit, racking their weapons, the clatter of metal exceptionally jarring in the dead of night.

Then, everyone heard an entirely different sound.

It was the deafening roar of helicopter rotors tearing through the air.

Three searchlights flared simultaneously from behind the ridge, their snow-white beams slicing through the darkness like blazing swords.

They accurately locked onto every single bandit on the road.

Three military gunships rose from behind the mountain, their flanks painted with an insignia Madeline Monroe couldn't recognize, while the pitch-black muzzles of their underbelly cannons aimed directly at the ground.

The arrogance froze on the bald leader's face. He slowly raised his head, the three expanding silhouettes reflecting in his dilated pupils.

Simultaneously, the dense, synchronized thud of footsteps echoed from the woods lining both sides of the mountain pass.

Over a hundred heavily armed soldiers emerged from the darkness. They seemed to materialize straight out of the earth, their movements completely silent yet terrifyingly swift.

Within ten seconds, they formed an impenetrable perimeter, every single barrel pointed squarely at the bald leader and his men.

These men weren't wearing the standard uniforms of the Botswana military. Instead, they were clad in matching black tactical gear, their armbands embroidered with the same symbol Madeline had seen in Quentin Prescott's study.

The shotgun slipped from the bald leader's grip and clattered to the ground, prompting his subordinates to hastily drop their weapons as well.

They collapsed to the ground, clasping their hands behind their heads with a practiced ease that suggested they had rehearsed this a million times.

Quentin didn't spare him another glance.

He turned around and murmured a few words to General Diallo, his voice so low that only the general could hear.

General Diallo gave a firm nod and signaled the helicopters hovering above. The gunships immediately banked and flew down the mountain. A few moments later, a relentless barrage of gunfire echoed through the night, followed by roaring flames that painted half the mountain peak in a blood-red glow.

Madeline sat inside the car, watching everything unfold through the window.

Her heart was still pounding fiercely—not out of fear, but from an indescribable sense of awe.

She had always known Quentin was no ordinary businessman, but she never realized his power ran deep enough to mobilize helicopters and armies in the remote African mountains, or that he could obliterate a deeply entrenched local militia in a matter of minutes.

Quentin returned to the car, closing the door with the same gentle quietness as when he had first arrived.