Libya, "Musician" Defense Command.
The heavy curtains blocked out the blazing sunlight of the diterranean, as well as the noise of the city.
The room was dimly lit, with only a few encrypted communication devices and computer screens emitting a faint blue light.
Song Heping sat in a large leather chair, calmly watching the screen of the satellite encrypted phone.
Displayed on the screen was Avanti's calculative face, now showing obvious anxiety.
"Song, the first round of attacks is over, but the situation isn't looking good."
Avanti's voice ca through the encrypted line, with a hint of unnoticeable urgency, "As you predicted, the pirates couldn't bite off that tough bone. The US Army helicopters reacted too quickly, and their firepower was too strong, sinking several ships. The rest were scared stiff and ran faster than rabbits. Now, there are certainly US Navy ships fully escorting the 'Marlin Fish', like a steel barrel. A billion US dollars... it seems unlikely any more daredevils would try to approach it."
He paused, his tone carrying inquiry with a hint of subtle complaint, "The plan... might fail..."
The light from the screen reflected on Song Heping's face, but instead of the disappointnt or anger that Avanti expected, there appeared a nearly imperceptible smile.
"Fail?"
Song Heping's voice was deep and steady, carrying a sense of controlling everything.
"Avanti, you're too focused on the waves on the surface. So far, they haven't even entered the Red Sea, and the real storm often brews where you can't see."
He gently put down the cigar, leaned slightly forward, as if his gaze pierced through the screen, seeing sothing further away, "Continue to release the news. The bounty offer remains valid. By the way, increase the bounty amount for , add 200 million, increase it by 200 million each day for the next five days, letting those frightened jackals know that the mountains of US dollars are still there, whoever has the ability can take them."
"But..."
Avanti almost choked on his saliva.
Song Heping has gone mad...
"Money isn't everything!"
"No buts."
Song Heping interrupted him, leaving no room for argunt, "You just need to do your job, continue to let the news fernt. Don't worry about anything else."
A glint of sharpness flashed in his eyes.
"The show is just beginning."
Without waiting for Avanti to respond, Song Heping cleanly ended the communication.
The screen dimd, and the room returned to darkness.
He picked up a seemingly ordinary smartphone from the table, his fingers quickly inputting a string of instructions on the screen, then pressed the send button.
The screen displayed only one short ssage:
"Initiate Operation 'Echo'."
New York, Manhattan, in a penthouse apartnt overlooking the full view of Central Park.
Outside the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, the city lights sparkled like a river of stars.
Angel, wearing a perfectly tailored silk robe, stood barefoot on the cold marble floor, holding a glass of red wine in her hand.
Last night she just finished a lengthy board eting, attended a charity gala, and was busy at ho until two in the morning before going to bed. At this mont, her eyes carried a trace of professional fatigue.
The phone vibrated once on the glass coffee table beside her, the screen lit up, displaying the ssage from distant Libya - "Initiate Operation 'Echo'."
Angel's eyes instantly sharpened, like a lazy leopard catching the scent of prey.
All fatigue vanished, replaced by a cold focus and a hint of hidden excitent.
Without the slightest hesitation, she put down her wine glass, picked up the phone, and quickly dialed a pre-set number.
"It's , Angel."
Her voice was calm and efficient, without any unnecessary pleasantries, "I have big news here, prepare all pre-set channels imdiately. I demand top priority release. I want to see it beco the focus of every news station during tonight's pri ti. Set it off."
"No problem, Miss Angel."
A brief confirmation ca from the other end.
Angel hung up the phone, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, and gazed down at the city she knew so well.
Central Park's green trees were lush, and the distant roads were teeming with traffic, with information flowing like blood through countless unseen pipelines.
A cold curve appeared at the corner of her lips.
In Song Heping's chess ga, she was the pivotal piece, now placed on the board.
That evening, at 9 p.m. Eastern North Arica ti, during pri ti.
In countless households' living rooms, the TV screens were on.
News anchors appeared on the screens with solemn faces, the background music carrying a hint of tense suspense.
"Breaking news!"
CNN's anchor spoke rapidly, with a serious expression, "We have just received exclusive news: a large Arican-flagged cargo ship 'Marlin Fish' was subjected to a massive, extrely fierce pirate attack today in international waters of the Arabian Sea! The live footage is incredibly shocking!"
The screen imdiately cut to a blurry but imnsely impactful cell phone video clip: in the twilight, a huge gray cargo ship struggled to maneuver at sea, surrounded by a frenzy of black speedboats attacking like a wolf pack, muzzle flashes flickering like stars, explosions sending up towering water columns.
Then the screen switched to the breathtaking scene of US Army helicopters firing from the air, Hellfire Missiles striking targets and triggering sky-high fireballs!
"Reportedly, the number of attackers was astonishing, using heavy weapons including rockets, creating an extrely dangerous situation! Fortunately, at the critical mont, the US Navy carrier-based helicopters that received the distress signal reached the scene in ti, using overwhelming aerial firepower to repel the pirates, rescuing the 'Marlin Fish' and its crew..."
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