"What on earth!..." John thought as he heard a male voice behind him. Turning around, he saw two soldiers. One was tall, nearly two meters, clearly overweight with a dull expression on his face. The other was a short guy, "a meter and a half with a cap," with an disproportionately large head and a thin, almost emaciated physique. Both were young and, judging by their appearance, not particularly spoiled by life. Together, they looked quite comical!

  "Who could have paired them up as partners?! They're just like Timon and Pumbaa!" John smiled. His hands were crossed and tucked into the sleeves of his jalabiya, which helped him support the bundles of money.

  — Present your documents and explain the purpose of your stay in Port Sudan — the burly man said sternly to John.

  — Good day! The documents are left at the "Baasher" hotel. I'm here on business...

  Before John could finish, the soldiers quickly exchanged glances and grabbed their rifles with both hands.

  — Whoa! Take it easy! Explain what's going on! I'm unarmed! — John skillfully raised his hands above his head, keeping them slightly bent so that the money wouldn't start spilling out like from a safe.

  — A suspect has escaped from the "Baasher" hotel, and you closely match his description! Is your name John? — Both soldiers aimed their rifles at him.

  Fear gripped John. He had mere seconds to make a decision. Thoughts swirled in his mind, ranging from escape to throwing money into the street, which would distract the soldiers and draw the attention of civilians. He understood that things were dire, but they still didn't know for sure who he was. That meant there was a chance to outsmart them.

  — John? Are you looking for John too?! Thank goodness!!! We haven't been able to find him since eight in the morning! Guys, put down your weapons, I'll explain everything right now.

  "Timon and Pumbaa" clearly did not expect such a turn of events, and their tension was replaced by curiosity — it seemed they were ready to listen to John.

  — Speak up about what you know — chimed in the short-statured one. His voice matched his figure, high-pitched and squeaky. John barely managed to hold back a laugh when he heard him.

  — My name is Sebastian, and I arrived here with John. Actually, he’s with me since I’m his boss. We arrived yesterday as part of a group, had a few drinks… well, you understand… — judging by the soldiers' expressions, they had no idea about the drinking, but John continued: — In the morning, we were supposed to head to the port together to change shifts. But we couldn’t find John; we searched the entire area, but found no trace of him.

  John tried to speak as quickly and emotionally as possible to confuse his interlocutors and force them to make decisions just as fast, thereby preventing them from assessing the objective situation. It was an old technique, but it worked flawlessly. Especially when it came to young soldiers who were deliberately trained not to think, but to follow orders.

  — We called the police from the hotel. There was also such a nice concierge... I think his name was Nussier...

  — That's right, his name was Nusyer — Pumba confirmed in surprise.

  "Well done! Observant big guy! At least your height came in handy, you were able to see the name on the badge!" thought John.

  — But we didn't wait for the police to arrive; we split up and went to look for John in different directions! It's so great that they've even involved the army in the search! You all are doing an amazing job! Back home, nobody would have reacted so quickly — John continued to chatter, simultaneously praising the Sudanese army, aware of how proud they were of their service to their homeland.

  The soldiers finally relaxed and lowered their weapons. After exchanging a few phrases in their dialect, they continued to ask John questions.

  — How many people were in your group, and where did you come from?

  — Eight people. I'm the leader. We arrived from Australia — John replied firmly, realizing that they had fallen for his bait.

  — Yes, but by all appearances, you closely resemble a fugitive! — Timon attempted to channel Sherlock Holmes.

  — Have you seen many Australians? We all look very similar! And John and I really do have a lot in common in terms of appearance! People constantly point it out to us. I remember even his grandmother mistook us for each other when she came to the office. And the guys joke that if I go over to his place, his wife won't notice the difference... I could even stay the night — John laughed. — Oh, and I remember another time when the boss called him into his office...

  — That's enough! — Timon interrupted John's candid but well-thought-out chatter.

  "Looks like the pancakes are ready! Now we can make the most out of this situation..." — cynical thoughts crossed John's mind.

  — What's bringing you to the port? You've wandered quite far from the hotel — the big guy asked.

  — We searched for John for half a day and were already losing hope. So I headed to the port to inform the client that we couldn't take our shift without a full crew. And that's when I stumbled upon an ATM — John said, feigning sadness and disappointment.

  — Why do you need an ATM?

  — That's the problem. Because John is missing, we won't be able to do our job, and the company will fine me five thousand dollars!!! — John deliberately emphasized the figure in his speech to highlight the significance of his loss.

  But in the eyes of the Sudanese, there was an absolute indifference to the large sum.

  "What's that, not enough? Should I have said fifty?! You've never seen that much money in your entire life! Oh, I get it, right now!!!"

  — In your money, that's... almost three million!

  Upon hearing the astronomical sum, the soldiers' eyes widened, and like true cartoon characters, their jaws simply had to drop.

  — Three million Sudanese pounds?! — the big guy asked, extremely surprised.

  — Yes! Can you imagine what monsters they are! And I have to work with people like that! That's why I need to make it to the port by five in the evening, no matter what. I withdrew some money from the ATM hoping to negotiate with the client... And you know what? I just got an idea!

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  — Really? And what is it? — asked "Timon," as if sensing the smell of money.

  — You can help me and earn a decent amount of money. All you have to do is continue your search operation.

  The soldiers exchanged glances. They guessed that John wanted to offer them money. Immediately, doubts and contradictions began to arise in their eyes. They were afraid of being caught in bribery, but at the same time, the desire for easy money outweighed their concerns. John sensed this and decided to "push" the poor souls further.

  With a swift motion, he tugged at one of his sleeves and pulled out a large bundle of cash. The sight of cash does strange things to people. They become almost enchanted, unable to tear their eyes away from the pleasing sight of freshly printed bills. They start to close their eyes, trying to catch the scent of the paper with watermarks. Blood begins to circulate much faster, rushing to the brain. An endorphin rush occurs in that very moment. Thoughts in the mind transform into little "hedonists," so powerful that they push aside all the "unnecessary rational clutter."

  In these moments, a person transforms into a puppet, ready to perform any actions at the whim of their puppeteer. Of course, this does not happen to everyone. The degree of dependence is directly proportional to the greed and the lamentable state of the subject.

  It seems that "Timon" and "Pumba" are going through a tough phase, even experiencing withdrawal symptoms. When they saw the bundle of cash, all their concerns about the bribe vanished into thin air. Their pupils dilated, and one of them involuntarily twitched his eye. The only thing missing was the drooling. Moreover, similar symptoms were clearly evident in both of them.

  "Birds in a cage!" thought John, looking at the faces of the soldiers.

  — Here are about five hundred US dollars... or two hundred ninety thousand of your pounds. I will give them to you right now and another amount after the deal is completed. You will need to perform two simple actions...

  The eyes of the young soldiers darted from side to side. Like a beast anticipating its prey, they surveyed their territory, ensuring there were no extra mouths or eyes around. Of course, they could easily take the money by force, but "Lady Greed" was already feasting in their minds, eager to savor the dish to the fullest. Realizing that a stack of cash could double, "Timon and Pumba" suddenly began to think pragmatically and strategically, as reflected in their cunning faces. Moreover, they didn’t understand who was in front of them, and the fate that awaited them for robbing even the simplest foreign citizen was far from enviable, let alone for someone of greater significance...

  — We don't take bribes! But we're willing to listen to you — the big guy said.

  "Ha-ha-ha! I've never heard anything more foolish! Well, alright... The guys have just embarked on the path of corrupting their selfish souls. For a first attempt, it'll do," John chuckled to himself.

  — You don't take bribes, and I don't give them! This is a fair payment for your part of the deal. These concepts need to be clearly distinguished! — John continued with a serious expression. — What I propose... First: you will need to escort me to the port, where I will meet with the client. I will be able to show him that the search is ongoing, and I will ask for an extension. This is necessary for you as well, to confirm the truth of my words. And, of course, I will feel much safer in the company of such valiant warriors!

  The soldiers even straightened up and smiled after such sweet praise.

  — Second. You will find John. Yes, only you can help me. I’m sure your superiors will soon wind down the search; they must have plenty of their own concerns. Besides, I’m confident you can leverage your connections among the locals, and we will find John much faster. It’s as simple as that, isn’t it?

  The soldiers stood silently, like statues. The fear of being caught for bribery still lingered, and the remnants of rational thought resisted.

  — And one more thing… Of course, I will report to your superiors that it was you who brilliantly handled such a challenging task! And then — gratitude, bonuses, promotions… — John continued to wear down his victims.

  Finally, they seem to have ripened.

  — Alright. We'll help you. But keep in mind, if you've decided to pull a fast one on us, I'll personally shoot you — Timon said threateningly, placing his hand on the stack of money.

  Before John could mentally celebrate his victory, a short soldier had already tucked a bundle of banknotes into his jacket.

  "Great! Now I have armed security and an official excuse if I run into another patrol. At least I'll get to the port in comfort."

  — Let's head towards the port, it's already four o'clock — commanded "Pumba" sternly, but with a hint of joy in his voice.

  As they approached the port, the city noticeably transformed. It increasingly resembled a civilized port hub. Various shops, offices, and even taverns began to appear. Among the local population, "outsiders" of different nationalities were becoming more common, watching John and his armed escort with curiosity. "He must be an important figure," John read their thoughts.

  He was still thrilled by his small victory.

  "How right the Russians were with their saying — 'The tongue will take you to Kiev'! It’s so important to be communicative! If you had told me just a couple of months ago that I would be able to outsmart two armed brutes, even if they weren’t the sharpest tools in the shed, and hire them as my bodyguards… So, Sebastian, what’s the plan now? First, we need to eat something. Otherwise, my stomach will eat itself, or I might bite someone’s head off. Hunger throws me off balance, and that makes it hard to think clearly and feel the situation sharply."

  Before he could even think about food, his nose caught the scent of freshly baked bread. John was surprised at how heightened his sense of smell had become, allowing him to isolate this wonderful aroma among a multitude of others — gasoline, spices, sweat, excrement, and much more... This scent was exquisite! John closed his eyes and envisioned a crispy baguette with the finest alpine butter and slices of Norwegian salmon. He could already imagine his teeth sinking eagerly into that thick, nourishing sandwich, as the salty taste of the salmon spread across his tongue, enveloped like a silk blanket by the creamy delight of the butter...

  "Oh my God! I would be willing to bet my hand, along with the sleeve of my jalabiya where the money is hidden, for this pleasure!"

  At the end of the street, he saw a small cart where, right before his eyes, the "chef" was frying delicious pancakes while simultaneously calling out to passersby.

  "Damn! It smells so good! I hope he’s already received his Michelin star?! I absolutely have to try his cuisine!" — John thought to himself, having already made up his mind.

  — Hey guys, how about a snack? It's on me! — he said to his new entourage, pointing to a street food stall.

  The soldiers looked questioningly at John, and then disdainfully at the cart of flatbreads.

  — No. This food is for the poor.

  "Ah, of course! You are Sudanese princes now!" John thought to himself with a smirk.

  — Hope you don't mind if I drop by for a minute? I haven't eaten anything since this morning! — John asked pitifully.

  — Alright. Just make it quick — replied "Pumba."

  It was an ordinary street food cart. On the counter, there was a griddle, coated in grease from the oil, and a bowl of prepared dough. Nearby, in deep clay bowls, were the toppings — cheese and herbs. Apart from the flies and a toothless middle-aged Sudanese man, there was no one else around. Not even salmon.

  — Good day, sir! Would you like a flatbread? — the vendor behind the cart asked with a broad smile.

  — Yes! Give me two. No — three! With cheese and herbs. Guys, are you sure you won't have any? — John asked joyfully, looking forward to lunch.

  The soldiers merely shook their heads. The cook began pouring the prepared batter onto the hot surface. It sizzled so pleasantly that John couldn't help but swallow his saliva. The issue of food was settled, and he shifted his focus back to his main task — searching for an answer. John looked around, but once again his keen gaze couldn't latch onto anything.

  "Maybe this is all in vain? These searches... Maybe there’s nothing at all? What if this is just some misunderstanding of nature or a foolish mistake from some experiment? Why am I deceiving myself? No! It can't be just a coincidence! It can't be that this is happening to me because of someone's ridiculous error! I've already come too far! Pull yourself together, John."

  — Why are you heading to the port? — the flatbread vendor suddenly asked.

  — I have a shift change there... Wait! I didn't say I was going to the port! — John exclaimed, looking at him in astonishment.

  — Where else is there to go? — the Sudanese replied without looking up.

  — Well, yeah... — John looked at him skeptically.

  The chef finished wrapping the cheese in the last flatbread and, packing them in parchment, handed them to John.

  — You will find a lot of interesting things there — he said with a broad smile, gazing intently into John's eyes. His gaze was so piercing and profound that it sent shivers down John's spine. He was taken aback by this phrase and found himself in a daze. Fear, astonishment, hope — all these emotions instantly overwhelmed John's entire being.

  — Where? — John asked in a quiet, utterly bewildered voice.