After a cacophony of noise, another relatively calm voice erged faintly, as one of Baghdad's core aides quietly advised: "Emir, please calm down, be rational! Although Commander Eddie's progress is unfavorable, what he said is likely not without reason."
"Mosul is the heart of our Levant Country; if it falls, our foundation in Northern Illiguo will be completely shaken. The endless blood of countless brothers and extensive resource investnts over the years will go down the drain. Song Heping... We will have plenty of opportunities to settle the score with him later. But compared to Mosul, the unpaid twenty-five million US dollars remaining balance... is really nothing."
He paused, a trace of cunning flashing in his eyes.
"Besides, haven't we already received 25 million?"
There was a longer silence on the phone, only Baghdad's heavy and reluctant breaths could be heard.
His hatred for Song Heping was boundless, but reason told him the aide's words were correct.
What does losing Mosul an?
He knows best.
Eventually, a mixed emotion of humiliation and helplessness overwheld him.
Into the microphone, Baghdad almost gritted his teeth, squeezing out the order from deep in his throat:
"Inform... Zakavi... to cease pursuing the 'Ghost'... all troops to turn around, and rush to Mosul at the fastest speed... to join Eddie... Tell them, if... if Mosul is lost, they... don't need to return!"
When the order was issued, Baghdad seed drained of strength, slumping down in defeat.
And amid the gunfire in Illiguo, Eddie, who received the order, was relieved, slumping onto the seat in the command vehicle, sweat dripping from his forehead.
The Pentagon, National Military Command Center (NMCC).
Similar to the burning scene in Northwest Illiguo, the atmosphere here was suffocatingly tense.
On the massive curved main screen, split into multiple scenes.
The center was high-definition real-ti images transmitted through the KH-13 "Keyhole" reconnaissance satellite and the RQ-4 "Global Hawk" drone.
The images clearly showed that the large clusters representing the 1515 Ard Forces were dividing into two parts.
One part was slowly creeping along Route 7 toward Mosul, with small flashes representing skirmishes and explosions constantly appearing; the other part of the light that was originally deep into Siria clearly was changing direction, returning toward the Illiguo border.
And the isolated cursor marked as the "Ghost" squad had safely crossed the border line, entering the Northwest Illiguo control area, moving steadily toward the Persian direction.
"What the hell is going on?!"
National Security Advisor Brenan could no longer restrain his anger, slamming his fist onto the polished wooden control table, producing a muffled sound.
His face was livid, pointing at those retreating light spots on the screen, his gaze like a hawk sweeping across the conference room, finally locking onto Simon.
"Simon! I need an explanation! A reasonable explanation! How did you guarantee before? You said Baghdad took the money and would certainly be like a faithful hound, to kill the 'Ghost' for us! And now? The hound runs ho on its own!"
In an instant, the gaze of all senior generals and civilian intelligence officers in various military uniforms in the conference room focused on Simon.
Those gazes contained doubt, indifference, schadenfreude, and detachnt.
Simon felt a thin layer of cold sweat instantly seeping on his back.
He was equally shocked by the robust combat power exhibited by the "Liberation Forces" and Jiang Feng's ingenious use of the "surround Wei to rescue Zhao" tactics.
Was it Song Heping's handiwork?
That guy...
Too cunning!
But he also knew that any hint of panic at this mont would be fatal.
"Ahem—"
He coughed twice, quickly organizing his thoughts with this motion, his face returning to its usual calm.
"Mr. Brenan."
Simon's voice clearly transmitted through the microphone throughout the conference room.
"I confirm, through completely deniable, triple-encrypted third-party channels, we have reached a clear agreent with Baghdad. The 25 million dollars down paynt has been paid through untraceable encrypted currency to his designated, anonymously wallet undergoing at least five mixing operations. Baghdad himself also swore through interdiaries, in the na of his faith, to spare no cost in resolving Song Heping."
He sharply turned his words, boldly eting Brenan's nearly fiery eyes: "But, gentlen, we all see the situation now. Song Heping, or rather, the 'Liberation Forces' and the Abu You Brigade under his remote control, adopted the most direct and effective thod—attacking Mosul and then deploying blocking troops along the way, which is their China People's most adept 'surround Wei to rescue Zhao' and 'siege point to attack reinforcent' tactics summarized during warti..."
"This forces Baghdad to make a choice—either prioritize hunting the elusive 'Ghost,' or preserve his strategic core area for survival and rule. The result is evident. This precisely confirms the point I emphasized repeatedly in the previous risk assessnt report—that engaging in high-value transactions with this unpredictable, survival-prioritizing terrorist organization like the 1515 inherently contains massive, uncontrollable variables and risks. Advisor sir, if my mory hasn't deteriorated to old age dentia, I still rember before you made the decision, I reminded you, didn't I?"
Brenan's face muscles stiffened.
Indeed.
Simon had previously warned that doing this carried risk.
At the ti he didn't exactly favor this plan.
It was his order to do it.
Seeing Brenan silent, Song Heping paused, his tone carrying a subtly indirect reminder neither shirking responsibility nor highlighting it unnecessarily: "I regret that at that ti my risk assessnt and cautious advice failed to receive enough attention and adoption. If we had a more comprehensive backup plan at that ti, or lower expectations for Baghdad's 'credibility,' perhaps..."
His words were not finished, but everyone present understood the subtext: you were stubborn, underestimated Song Heping, and overestimated Baghdad, now there's a problem, don't fully bla .
The complexion of Brenan's Security Advisor shifted from blue to red, then from red to purple.
He naturally heard the aning in Simon's words.
It made him feel his authority was challenged, his face lost.
He slapped the table abruptly, interrupting Simon: "I don't care about these damn risk assessnts! I just want results! He took the money, he has to do the job! It's the most basic 'business ethics!' Even if he is a terrorist! Imdiately! Contact your interdiary, I want Baghdad himself to give an account! Otherwise, the remaining twenty-five million, he won't get a single di! Also, I'll let him know the costs of teasing the United States of Arica!"
User Comments
0 comments from readers