Mercenaries, I Will Be King Chapter 1175 - 1038: Now That's Exciting

"Mr. Song, please be mindful of your wording. I am a journalist, and I have the right to interview."

On the other end of the phone, Angel chuckled softly, but her tone was unusually firm, "Moreover, my flight is the only civilian plane allowed to land, with special permission personally signed by your 'good partner', Mr. Haftar. I'm right at the terminal now, surrounded by... hmm, looks like all your people? Or Haftar's people? They are being very 'courteous' to . If you don't co to pick up your 'old friend', I'll have no choice but to hire a car to find you in the city. I've heard the view from the top suite of the Corinthia Hotel is quite nice? Although the previous occupant just committed suicide in there."

Song Heping couldn't help but smile wryly.

But after a mont of reflection, he imdiately understood the subtlety within.

Angel ntioned that people surrounded her, so she naturally couldn't overly show the closeness of their relationship, as it was indeed a secret matter.

"Stay where you are! Don't move around! I'll be there shortly!"

After giving his instructions, he imdiately hung up the phone, dashed into the villa, grabbed a tactical vest and handgun, and shouted into the communicator, "White Bear, assemble Company A imdiately! Fully ard! Target: Mitiga Airport, execute highest alert! Protect the target person! Quickly!"

"Who's coming?" White Bear, who was sitting by the bar drinking beer with Jiang Feng, looked utterly bewildered.

"Angel!"

"Huh? That Arican lady?"

...

The roar of engines tore through the beach's tranquility.

In less than ten minutes, a convoy made up of a dozen ard pickups and armored vehicles kicked up a cloud of sand and raced towards Mitiga Airport.

The rcenaries on the vehicles wore stern expressions, chambered their firearms, and scanned the ruins along the roadside vigilantly.

Song Heping sat in the leading armored vehicle, his fingers unconsciously tapping against the cold gun body, his mind agitated with thoughts.

Angel...

How dare she?

And why would she co?

Was it rely for an interview?

Aunt Nancy's shadow flashed across his mind.

The airport terminal looked even more dilapidated.

When Song Heping stord into the arrival hall with a fierce company of elite rcenaries, the atmosphere froze instantly.

The few remaining airport staff and so equally stranded, frightened passengers huddled in corners.

Only one person stood as a calm point in the eye of the storm.

Angel stood at the center of the hall.

She was dressed in a perfectly tailored pair of khaki cargo pants and a matching trench coat, paired with a simple white shirt underneath. Her golden hair was tied in a neat ponytail, her face lightly made up, yet unable to hide the fatigue of a long flight, nor the complex mixture of professional sharpness and personal emotion in her azure eyes.

Beside her were several aviation cases bearing the "Horizon News" logo, and a few assistants clad in bulletproof vests, carrying caras and recording equipnt, stood nervously behind her.

Seeing the fully ard Song Heping stride over, Angel's face blood with a radiant yet restrained smile.

She reached out her hand voluntarily: "Song, long ti no see."

Suppressing the surge of emotions within him, Song Heping put on the facade of an ordinary friend and extended his hand for a courteous handshake with her.

"Angel, welco to Tripoli. Although it's not a wise choice, I will now be responsible for your safety."

His voice was formal, yet in the mont their palms touched, his gaze conveyed volus unspoken.

"With you here, I'm very reassured."

Angel responded cleverly, her gaze equally complicated.

"My team needs to film so material of the airport and city outskirts. Later, I'd like to conduct an in-depth interview with you. The location… you'll arrange it?"

"Back to the city, my temporary residence."

Song Heping spoke concisely, making a gesture to "White Bear" behind him.

The rcenaries swiftly and professionally escorted Angel and her team onto a few reinforced bulletproof SUVs.

The massive convoy started off again, leaving the airport under countless curious or wary eyes, heading towards the villa on the beach.

The journey was silent.

The atmosphere was subtle and silent.

Only the rumble of the armored vehicle's engine and occasional brief reports over the radio broke the silence.

Song Heping and Angel shared a vehicle, separated by the spacious rear seat area. Their gazes occasionally t and then quickly averted, as if an electric current silently crackled in the air.

The convoy entered the villa area, the strict security making it feel like a military fortress.

Angel's assistants were politely arranged to rest in the villa's first-floor lobby, and their equipnt temporarily set aside.

Song Heping made a "please" gesture to Angel, pointing towards the staircase leading to the upper private area.

"It's safer here. Let's go upstairs to talk."

His voice remained calm.

Angel nodded, instructed her assistants, "Set up the equipnt first, Mr. Song and I will discuss the interview details."

After speaking, she followed Song Heping up the stairs.

The second floor of the villa offered a broad view, with giant floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the sparkling diterranean Sea. The door closed behind them, sealing off the world below.

The "click" of the door lock closing was like a switch.

The professional smile on Angel's face vanished instantly, replaced by a surge of uncontrollable emotions, a mix of worry, yearning, and a hint of aftershock.

She abruptly turned, throwing herself into Song Heping's arms, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, as if to confirm his existence.

Song Heping's body went rigid.

He hugged her back tightly, burying his face deeply in her hair, which exuded a familiar fragrance.

"You crazy woman... do you know how dangerous it is here?"

Song Heping's voice carried a barely detectable tremor, yet his arms tightened around her.

"I know... I know everything..."

Angel lifted her head, her eyes red, seductively tearful.

"But I know even more where you are. The Marlin Fish... Sawinu... Tripoli... every news tip left trembling with fear! I can't sit in a New York office anymore and rely on cold screens to learn about your life and death! I have to see you with my own eyes, I must... be by your side, even if only for a few days!"

As she spoke, her fingers clutched tightly onto the clothes on his back.

Song Heping held her face, his thumb brushing the moisture from the corner of her eye, his gaze as deep as the sea.

"You took quite a risk. The 'Storm' operation caused such a big stir, what about Aunt Nancy on that side... what will you do?"

He asked the greatest worry from the bottom of his heart.

By using Angel's dia network to fan the flas during the crucial mont of the U.S. midterm elections, they maximized the political impact of the Marlin Fish incident, thereby influencing the Donkey Party's decision-making in the White House, and Angel's Aunt Nancy was the whip of the Donkey Party.

In Song Heping's view, Angel really risked turning against her family for him.

However, Angel suddenly smiled.

Her smile carried a shrewdness and complexity that understood the ways of the world.

"You underestimate Washington's 'swamp', my dear baby."

She pulled Song Heping to sit on the sofa by the window, her body still pressed against his, as if afraid he might disappear.

"Three days ago, during a dinner party at our family's suburban estate, Aunt Nancy took the initiative to talk to ."

Song Heping's heart instantly leaped.

"She wasn't mad."

Angel looked at Song Heping's incredulous expression and said word by word, "On the contrary... she praised for doing well."

"What?!"

Song Heping was completely stupefied, this was entirely beyond his political understanding.

"It's true."

Angel leaned on his shoulder, explaining softly, as if narrating an absurd yet incredibly real Washington script.

"The Donkey Party's midterm election loss wasn't a disaster for Aunt Nancy, but an opportunity. She has stepped down as Speaker for more than two years now, and those within the party coveting her whip position have long been restless. This defeat made the elderly and core patrons in the party realize they needed a steady hand, a veteran capable of stabilizing the situation and consolidating power. The calls for her coback are now higher than ever. Without this failure, she might have truly retired. But now, through the twists of this matter, she might reclaim the speaker's gavel in the next Congress."

"So... you stabbed the Donkey Party, but actually helped her?"

Song Heping felt a sense of absurdity.

"You could understand it that way, at least objectively it cleared her path for a coback."

Angel nodded: "More importantly, Aunt Nancy believes that my actions this ti crafted an image of a 'fearless of authority', 'seeking truth', 'forsaking family for justice' journalist. This is an extrely valuable political asset for both her and . For her, it showcases the 'fairness' of her family, and her own ability to 'tolerate criticism', even if it cos from within her own family, thus portraying an enlightened image. For , the credibility of 'Horizon News' has soared, and my personal prestige in the journalism world and among young voters has peaked. This paves the way for my future... possible political pursuits."

"The future? You want to go into politics?"

Song Heping keenly captured the key information.

"When you leave, what about the news agency?"

Angel didn't directly answer, but looked into his eyes: "Song, the stage in Washington is more complicated than the battlefield, but also more pivotal. I will arrange a successor for 'Horizon', soone completely reliable, who can implent our will. As for ... Aunt Nancy hinted that this path is worth considering. And this interview..."

She paused, "Aside from my personal willingness, Aunt Nancy also... is happy to see it happen. She even... actively asked if I still had your contact."

Song Heping's eyes instantly sharpened: "She wants to establish an unofficial communication channel through you?"

"Exactly."

Angel affird, "Politicians are all two-faced. The fiercer the words on stage, the more they need a backdoor offstage. Your weight now is different, you're no longer the lone rcenary in Iraq, you've single-handedly supported Haftar, effectively controlling the situation in Libya. You've beco an indispensable player on the North Africa chessboard. How could an old fox like Aunt Nancy not leave herself a way to contact you? My coming to interview you, unassailably legitimate, just gave her a window to observe and establish contact."

Song Heping was silent, digesting this bare political calculation.

The sea breeze blew in through the window, carrying a salty and damp sensation, but couldn't dispel the complexity in his heart.

He looked down at Angel's face near at hand; years had passed and she had matured, no longer the rich girl who used to jump onto his lap and howl at the sound of gunfire in Iraq.

An indescribable emotion surged in his heart.

He caressed her cheek, his voice husky: "So this ti, the visit combines business, personal affairs, and a political mission... all three?"

Angel's gaze turned dazed and passionate as she took the initiative to kiss his lips, a kiss suppressed for too long, carrying the salty sea breeze and the fla of longing.

In the midst of intertwined lips and teeth, muffled whispers spilled out: "Most importantly... I missed you... missed you... like crazy..."

The levee of reason was completely washed away by the flood of desire.

Song Heping let out a low growl, lifted her horizontally, and strode towards the bedroom.

Clothes slipped off in chaotic gasps and intense kisses, revealing bodies long craved by each other.

When they finally clung tightly together, falling onto the soft bed, a huge wave of tremors and satisfaction swept over Song Heping.

However, at the last mont, the wariness honed from years on the battlefield made him pause slightly, listening intently for any sound outside the door.

"Outside..."

He began in a low, hoarse voice.

Angel bit down on his lower lip with surprising strength, carrying a sense of punishnt and enticent.

She lifted her hazy eyes, breathing roughly, her voice like a poison wrapped in honey, whispering seductively in his ear: "This way... is more exciting... just like us..."

This sentence completely ignited the last restraint within Song Heping's heart.

He no longer hesitated, responding to her with a wilder aggression, pouring all his longing, worries, love, and desire into this long-awaited storm of intimacy.

The outside world, the smoke in Tripoli, the calculations in Washington... at that mont, all beca distant and blurry.

Only each other's heartbeats, breaths, and the heat of skin pressed against skin remained the only reality.