Mercenaries, I Will Be King Chapter 1144 - 1022: Meeting of the Three Giants (Part 3)

The atmosphere in the conference room suddenly beca tense, like a bowstring being stretched.

Levin glanced at Vincent, then at Ms. M. He preferred a straightforward, forceful resolution, but Ms. M's earlier words had undermined his confidence.

No one knew exactly how Song Heping had taken down the F15I.

The intelligence claid it was a SAM-6, but Levin never believed it.

Ms. M maintained a stoic expression, her mind rapidly calculating the political cost and possible room for compromise.

The CIA intelligence officers present stared blankly, like part of the background.

A long, suffocating silence...

Only the occasional soft "click" of the brass cigar cutter in Vincent's fingers pierced everyone's nerves.

Finally, Ms. M took a slow breath, breaking the deadlock, her voice returning to a businesslike tone: "We can negotiate, but I need to consult the Pri Minister on this matter. However, the share proportions need to be clearly defined, and we must ensure the stability of our Great Britain and European partners' current interests in the northwest. anwhile..."

Her sharp gaze pierced Vincent, "The CIA must imdiately and fully commit to investigating Song Heping's 'mysterious air defense weapon'. I need to know what it is! Any plans for large-scale air strikes must be put on hold until the threat assessnt is complete."

Vincent finally revealed a genuine smile, one of a victor's satisfaction: "A wise decision. Our people will follow up on the details. As for that mystery... rest assured, Langley's top analysis team and satellite resources have him thoroughly monitored."

He turned to Levin, "Director Levin, your opinion?"

Levin squeezed out a few words through gritted teeth: "As long as we can eliminate Song Heping as soon as possible, I'm okay with the share..."

"Excellent!"

Vincent clapped his hands, as if they had achieved sothing significant.

"So, the initial frawork for cooperation is established. My plan is: Step one, imdiately increase support for Sayif's remaining forces — weapons, ammunition, intelligence, even... so 'experienced advisors'. Let the GNA hold the line at Sawinu, consuming Song Heping and Haftar's forces as much as possible, slowing their advance. Ti is on our side. Step two, proceeding simultaneously: The CIA will use all ans to quickly uncover Song Heping's air defense tactics. Once the threat level is confird manageable or any weaknesses are found..."

A cold light flashed in his eyes.

"Then, I will play a funeral march for him."

The eting concluded successfully on the surface, but beneath the apparent success, undercurrents of ulterior motives flowed.

Simon, the deputy director present at the eting, packed up his files with an expressionless face, but a flash of indescribable complexity crossed his eyes.

That night.

Deep in the night, in Simon's study, thick curtains blocked out all external light.

He sat in the darkness, with only the eerie blue glow from the open laptop screen illuminating his serious and slightly struggling face.

After passing through triple encryption hops, he finally connected to that nearly untraceable satellite channel.

The screen flickered a few tis, and a processed, slightly distorted voice ca through, carrying the static of an electric current, yet still conveying a sense of calm and control that penetrated the screen: "Simon. Is it raining hard in Washington?"

"Very hard, and very cold."

Simon responded softly, speaking rapidly.

"The eting is over. Your situation now... is very bad."

He skipped any pleasantries and directly reported the core contents of the eting without omissions — the decision of the three major intelligence agencies to join forces against Song Heping, the plan to increase support for Sayif (including the types and estimated quantities of large arms shipnts to be delivered), Vincent's greedy demands on the southern oil fields, as well as the most critical part, the CIA's intention to fully investigate his air defense capabilities and possibly launch large-scale air strikes following an assessnt.

He even, based on the information revealed in the eting and his own intelligence analysis, reported several possible departure ports and estimated routes for key arms transport ships.

"...Vincent is determined this ti. He has the support of the British and Israelites as backing. Once they ascertain your air defense system or... identify its weaknesses, an air strike could happen at any ti. It would be devastating."

Simon's voice carried a hint of concern, "Listen to , Libya... it's a real quagmire! The tribes harbor ulterior motives, and Western forces are deeply entrenched. You have already proven your capabilities, severely damaging Mossad, defeating the main forces of the GNA, and gaining imnse prestige and leverage! Now, you have ti to withdraw with your people! Move to other places in Africa, or... even farther, you can still establish your own territory. It's too risky to hold your ground! If the US Army deploys B-2 Spirits or F-35s, or even a swarm of stealth drones... no matter how strong your ground forces are, they won't withstand precision strikes from tens of thousands of feet above! It's not worth risking your life in this bog!"

The communication channel on the other end fell into a brief silence.

Simon could almost hear his own anxious heartbeat.

Seconds later, Song Heping's voice reappeared, still with that strange calmness, but filled with a steel-like will that pierced the great distance and the noise of encryption:

"Withdraw, Simon?"

He seed to chuckle softly, but the laughter held no warmth, only an icy determination, "This isn't a card table, Simon. It's an arena. Once inside, there are only two paths — kill all opponents, or... be dragged out to feed the vultures. No draws, no resignations."

His tone suddenly turned sharp as a knife: "Arican arms ships? Very good. Send the detailed intelligence, especially the routes and timing. Since they want to use this steel to drain my blood, I'll make sure these steels... sink to the bottom of the diterranean to feed the fish first!"

"Sink to the bottom?"

Simon was taken aback, then imdiately grasped Song Heping's intentions.

"You want... an interception at sea? That's insane! Those are transport ships under the Arican flag! Attacking Arican vessels in international waters is tantamount to declaring war! You're a madman!"

"Who said I would 'attack' them personally at sea?"

Song Heping's voice carried a cold cunning.

"Accidents... are always unavoidable. I'll find a way to make the Aricans lose face, yet without a clear enemy to go to war against."

"This... the chance of success is almost zero!"

Simon whispered, "The US transport ships have escort evaluations. Even without a warship at close range, their own defense and monitoring systems are extrely tight! How will you get close? How will you strike? If you fail, the consequences are unimaginable! This is too risky!"

"Zero?"

Song Heping's reply was decisive, filled with an unsettling confidence, "In my dictionary, there's no 'zero'. Only 'do' or 'do not'. Send the intelligence over, Simon. And then, forget this call ever happened."

The communication was cut off promptly and cleanly.

The screen fell into darkness.

Simon sat dumbfounded in the chair, his back soaked with cold sweat.

It was as if he saw, beneath the dark waves of the diterranean, a larger, more dangerous "web" quietly and insanely being woven by that man far away in the Libyan desert.

And the target was the steel giant flying the Stars and Stripes.