Song Heping did not move, only coldly scrutinizing Kafvan and the guards behind him.
The soldiers' eyes were vigilant, well-equipped, their movents exuding an air of precision.
However, in Song Heping's eyes, there was no trust, only scrutiny.
"I'll sit in the last vehicle with you."
Song Heping's voice was not loud, but it carried an undeniable weight.
Kafvan was stunned, his thick eyebrows furrowing: "The last vehicle? Mr. Song, that's against security protocol! The VIP should be in the core protection area of the convoy, the last vehicle is most susceptible to attack!"
His tone was full of confusion and a hint of professional objection.
"Do it."
Song Heping's response was only two words, cold and brief, his gaze fixed on Kafvan, carrying an invisible pressure.
Kafvan's expression beca sowhat unpleasant, he was about to speak again when the encrypted satellite phone at his waist suddenly vibrated.
He glanced at the caller ID, his expression imdiately stern, and answered the call.
"General! ... Yes! ... Understood! ... Absolutely obey! ... Yes!"
The conversation was very brief.
After putting down the phone, Kafvan looked at Song Heping with a more complex gaze.
The previous opposition completely vanished, leaving only the unconditional execution of military orders.
He straightened up, spoke in a deep voice: "The General orders everything to follow your arrangents. Please go ahead."
He stepped aside, indicating Song Heping to head towards the last vehicle.
Song Heping did not move imdiately, his gaze sweeping across the convoy: "Route map."
Although Kafvan was full of doubts, he imdiately took a military tablet from his adjutant, pulled up the itinerary, and displayed it for Song Heping.
The route anders through desolate mountain terrain, dry river beds, ultimately pointing to a hidden military base three hundred kiloters away.
Song Heping's gaze swiftly swept across the screen, his fingertip pausing briefly at several key nodes and possible ambush areas, the whole process taking less than twenty seconds.
His face showed no expression, after viewing, he rely said blandly, "Got it."
Then, he stopped looking at anyone, dragging his injured leg towards the convoy's last vehicle, a similarly bulletproofed land cruiser.
He pulled open the door and got into the back seat.
Kafvan watched Song Heping enter the last vehicle, his brow tightly furrowed, turning to make a quick gesture to his team.
All team mbers swiftly boarded their vehicles, engines roaring back to life.
Kafvan then also climbed into the last vehicle, sitting in the front passenger seat.
The convoy kicked up dust, traveling along the predetermined route towards the destination.
Half an hour later, having traveled nearly forty kiloters.
The convoy's lights illuminated a tunnel entrance.
Song Heping's eyes slightly brightened.
Soon, the tunnel's heavy shadows poured down like ice water, instantly swallowing the bulletproof off-road vehicle.
Suddenly, a cold gun muzzle pressed against Kafvan's temple, Song Heping's icy, indisputable voice ca to his ear: "Tell the driver to stop!"
The air suddenly beca sticky.
The driver turned his head in shock to look at Song Heping, utterly baffled.
"Mr. Song..."
"Tell the driver to stop imdiately!"
Song Heping's gun muzzle pressed harder, Kafvan instantly feeling the cold transfer from the gun making him involuntarily shiver.
He was well aware of the identity of the person he was escorting.
Avanti's distinguished guest, a Demon King from Hell.
The United States had a bounty on him for years, yet still couldn't take his life.
Just now at the border, he alone took down two US Army planes and two special forces teams.
Only one person!
Not even the movies dare film it this way!
"Stop!"
Kafvan instinctively obeyed Song Heping's command.
The driver slamd on the brakes, the tires screeched as they scraped the wet cent ground.
After the engine's low growl died, the tunnel seed to sink into the deep sea.
The convoy ahead seed unaware the last vehicle had stopped, continuing to speed along the established route, soon disappearing at the end of the tunnel.
Kafvan slowly turned his head, sweat beading at his temple, his gaze filled with incomprehensible shock.
"Mr. Song! What exactly are you planning to do? The convoy is your cover! Without them, we can't guarantee your safety!"
His breath was rapid and clear in the cramped car cabin.
Song Heping did not imdiately answer Kafvan, instead calmly watching the convoy disappear from sight ahead.
"Safety?"
His voice was filled with mockery.
"Captain Kafvan, you have a mole within. Since the first ti my whereabouts were sold to the Aricans, this mole has been present."
He paused, seemingly observing Kafvan's reaction.
"General Afanti is investigating, but until the mole is dragged out, any people, any convoy he sends might be the express route taking to Hell. Including you."
"Impossible!"
Kafvan was stung as if by a scorpion, his voice suddenly heightened.
He instinctively straightened his back, his face mixing a soldier's honor with the sha of having it questioned and the disbelief in these mad accusations, "I am from General 'Shahaban's' Guard! My n have followed the General for many years..."
"Loyalty?"
Song Heping sneered, "In the face of enough US Dollars and CIA's promises, loyalty is like the dust in this tunnel, scatters with a breeze. Tell , who else knows the pick-up point and route besides you and the General? The duty officer at the command center? The person responsible for communications at the center? Or the orderly who passed by when you assembled the team before departure?"
Kafvan opened his mouth, his full-hearted defense abruptly stuck in his throat.
Before departure, the command center's operations room was brightly lit, the duty officer recorded his mission briefing and route; the communication center was responsible for maintaining contact with the convoy; at the guard's barracks assembly, there indeed were curious glances from other squads passing by...
Every link may hold eyes, ears.
A chill, colder than the tunnel's air, silently crept up his spine, making him shiver involuntarily.
He instinctively reached for the encrypted communicator at his waist, fingertips touching the cold plastic shell.
"Don't touch it."
Song Heping's voice was as cold as ice, carrying a tone of command that brooked no argunt.
"Now, any signal emission is sending a ssage to the Hunter. Turn off all active signal sources in the car, radio, positioning terminal, everything."
Kafvan's hand froze mid-air.
He looked at Song Heping's hand resting on the gun grip, that hand with clear joints, stained with already blackened blood, yet horrifyingly steady.
He had no doubt that if he defied this order, the next second, a bullet would be fired.
He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing up and down, ultimately giving up, his movents stiff as he reached over and fumbled to turn off the car's radio and GPS locator on the dashboard.
A few weak indicator lights flickered hesitantly, then completely extinguished.
The cabin plunged into deeper darkness and silence, leaving only the suppressed breathing of the three.
"So... do we just wait here?"
Kafvan asked in confusion.
"Wait?"
Song Heping gently shook his head, took a breath, and said, "We wait for them to act. Move, and they'll reveal their flaws. This tunnel, open at both ends, with a maintenance side passage in the middle, is a decent coffin, but it can also be a trap."
He slightly tilted his head, indicating the tunnel's deep other end entrance, "Watch that side, Captain. Wake up your n, prepare for battle."
Kafvan took a deep breath, desperately suppressing the turmoil in his heart.
He grabbed the tactical radio at his side — with the active transmission function turned off, the internal communication channel still worked — lowered his voice, and quickly and clearly gave orders in Persian: "Attention all, this is 'Mountain Eagle'! Maintain absolute silence, shut off all active signal sources! Repeat, shut off all signal sources! Enter Level One Alert status! Proceed along the original route! Keep the channel clear, do not communicate unless in ergency! Out!"
The command instantly transmitted to every vehicle in the convoy through encrypted channels.
Kafvan could imagine the shock and confusion of the crew mbers in other vehicles at this mont, but he had no choice.
He put down the radio, fixing his eyes on the tunnel entrance ahead, the faint outline outlined by distant light, eyes unblinking, body tense like a tightly drawn bow.
Song Heping's almost absurd judgnt now left him sowhat at a loss.
Is this person truly a madman?
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