Is it possible to take the risk before reinforcents arrive and have the SBS conduct a precise decapitation to eliminate Song Heping, the core figure?
…
Washington, Langley, CIA Director's office.
The heavy oak door was tightly closed, the soundproofing was excellent, completely isolating the outside noise.
Director Vincent leaned back in his spacious high-back leather chair, his brows tightly furrowed, fingers tapping unconsciously on the smooth mahogany desktop.
Opposite the desk sat Deputy Director Simon.
Simon was relaxed, leaning slightly forward, hands crossed on his knees, his gaze sharp and calm, like a leopard evaluating its prey.
"The British request… what's your take, Simon?"
Vincent's voice carried his usual low tone with a trace of undetectable fatigue. On the encrypted communication terminal in front of him, he had just ended a conversation with Ms. M, who urgently requested shared satellite reconnaissance resources, especially real-ti imagery covering the northwest Sahara Desert and the Sudan-Libya border area, her voice seemingly still lingering in the air.
Simon leaned back, a hint of mingled sarcasm and concern appearing on his face.
"Director, if I may speak bluntly, Ms. M's request… sounds more like an ergency plea to mask her own major operational blunders. The 'Throat Cut' operation clearly went awry; otherwise, she wouldn't be so distraught. More importantly…"
He paused, emphasizing his tone, "Our interests in Libya, especially oil and future political influence, are being steadily eroded by the British-supported Libya National Unity Governnt (GNA). This large-scale military movent of the 'Musician' troops, targeting the GNA forces pursuing Song Heping, might actually work in our favor."
Vincent's gaze sharpened, "In our favor?"
"Yes, Director."
Simon's voice was calm yet persuasive.
"If the GNA's main forces are critically damaged, or even annihilated by the 'Musician', it can effectively balance the power dynamics in Libya, preventing the British from dominating. And we can watch from the sidelines. Once they're both weakened, we can intervene more favorably. Wasting valuable satellite resources, especially high-value real-ti reconnaissance channels, on cleaning up the British ss? That doesn't align with Arican interests, Director."
Vincent remained silent, the rhythm of his finger tapping on the table quickening.
Simon's words struck a chord with his deep-seated doubts and dissatisfaction with the British greed.
The British indeed took too large a slice of the Libyan pie.
Using Song Heping as a blade to weaken the British-supported GNA…
This idea carried a certain cold allure.
Just then, the office door was knocked urgently, and before Vincent could respond, his senior assistant rushed in, holding a tablet, slightly flustered.
"Director! You better take a look at this! CNN, Fox, MSNBC... almost all major news networks are interrupting broadcast! It's a big scandal!"
Both Vincent and Simon looked up.
The assistant quickly placed the tablet in front of Vincent. The screen was showing an ergency news segnt on CNN.
The host looked solemn, the screen split into two halves. On one half was a grey-haired, dignified-looking international relations analyst, on the other was a striking headline and several blurred photos.
"...Exclusive sources have confird to us."
The "expert" spoke with a heavy tone, laden with a sense of justice in unveiling the truth.
"A certain international security contractor (referring to Song Heping), previously nad on the wanted list as a KB faction leader, organized multiple deadly attacks on US Special Forces, with intelligence support likely coming directly from the British Secret Intelligence Service, known as MI6! More shocking, there is evidence showing MI6 allegedly secretly transmitted crucial intelligence to this contractor, which should have been shared with allies, leading to significant, preventable losses for our (referring to Arican) Special Forces in operations! This is blatant betrayal! A grave desecration of the transatlantic alliance!"
Boom!
Vincent felt a surge of hot blood rush to his head, his vision montarily going dark.
The blurred photos on the screen, the host's outraged queries, and the "expert's" definitive "evidence" accusations, each word seared onto his face and heart like a burning brand.
Betrayal!
Backstab!
Significant losses!
These words echoed madly in his mind.
"Bang!"
Vincent slamd his fist heavily on the mahogany desk, causing the tablet to jump.
His face was livid, and he said to the assistant, "You leave now!"
The assistant picked up the tablet and quickly left.
"Damn it! How has this thing flared up again!?"
Vincent wiped his face harshly with his hand.
"Wasn't it ordered to suppress this matter quietly before?!"
Simon watched Vincent's murderous deanor, inwardly sneering, but displaying an appropriate amount of shock and shared indignation on his face: "Exactly! I have no idea how this information leaked out again. For heaven's sake, those dia never miss a chance to stir things up!"
After a mont's thought, Vincent, breathing heavily, suddenly grabbed the red encrypted phone directly connecting to London from the desk.
He took a deep breath, attempting to calm down, but the anger in his voice was like boiling magma, completely uncontrollable: "M! This is Vincent!"
He skipped all pleasantries, his tone cold enough to crack steel.
"I just witnessed an extraordinarily 'spectacular' TV interview! Your dirty collaboration with Song is now being broadcast all over our dostic TV stations, and it seems that the matter between us isn't that simple!"
On the other end, Ms. M was evidently unprepared for this violent outburst, montarily silent, she attempted to explain: "Vincent, listen to , that's nonsense! It's a public opinion warfare tactic by target Song Heping! His 'Musician's' defense controls…"
"I don't care whose tactic it is!"
Vincent interrupted her harshly, his voice suddenly rising, "Now all of Arica is watching this 'nonsense'! Watching our CIA being made a mockery of! Seeing how we're being stabbed in the back by the so-called 'closest ally'! In such a public storm, you expect to face Congress's inquiries, face the fury of dostic citizens, and use valuable national reconnaissance resources to support your damned, flawed 'Throat Cut' operation? M, do you think that's possible?!"
M's voice also turned cold, with a sense of offended toughness: "Vincent, this is blatant slander! The target is sowing discord! We must…"
"There is no 'we'!"
Vincent said firmly, every word like a bullet tempered in fire, "Listen, M, satellite support, now, imdiately, absolutely impossible! Until you give a satisfying explanation and 'sincerity' regarding this scandal to us and the Arican people, all cooperation is suspended! The CIA will not provide any substantial support for MI6's operations! That's it!"
"Vincent! The situation is urgent! 'Musician's' troops…"
M's voice carried a rare trace of urgency.
"That's your problem! Clean up your own ss! Goodbye!"
Vincent didn't give her a chance to say more, slamming the receiver back onto the base, producing a loud clatter.
His chest heaved, his face still livid, turning to Simon, his eyes like a furious lion's: "Notify all relevant departnts! Suspend all intelligence sharing with MI6! Especially those involving satellite reconnaissance and signal intelligence! Without my direct order, not 1KB of data is to flow to London! Let those damn John Bulls play on their own!"
"Yes, Director!"
Simon complied solemnly, a cold sense of satisfaction in his heart.
Song Heping's move exceeded expectations.
Sure enough, the knife of public opinion kills without blood.
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