Mercenaries, I Will Be King Chapter 1475 1219: Negotiation Breakdown

"This is impossible!"

Simon could no longer maintain his composure, he exclaid:

"You are challenging our bottom line! You are trampling on the dignity of the United States of Arica! Officially backing you up for personal whitewash? This would make the United States governnt a laughing stock worldwide! It would beco one of the biggest diplomatic scandals in history! And the billion-dollar contract, along with those active sensitive equipnt... This is too harsh! Too absurd! This is not negotiation at all! Song, you're blackmailing!"

"Harsh? Absurd? Blackmail?"

Song Heping seed to hear sothing extrely funny, and a mocking smile appeared on his face.

"Director Simon, please ask yourself honestly, compared to your betrayal, causing and my brothers to perish in the Netherworld, compared to the imminent collapse and carnage at the battlefield of Ozham and Agra, compared to the visible strategic failures and bankruptcy of credibility you are facing in Illiguo and the entire Middle East, are the conditions I have set really that harsh? That absurd?"

He paused and spread his hands: "It's certainly more cost-effective than sending troops back to Illiguo, isn't it?"

After speaking, he directly left Simon and went to the window, turning his back on the CIA director, his gaze swept over the dust-covered scene outside. With a heavier sense of urgency, he said, "Simon, please understand a basic fact—right now, you are the ones begging , not , Song Heping, begging you. I have plenty of ti here to wait, wait until you argue over a result internally, wait until you co up with other 'great ideas'."

"I just don't know how long the Kurdish Brothers and Illigo Governnt Army, with their pathetic troops, can hold up under the frenzied offensive of '1515'? One day? Or two days? Without heavily restraining the main forces of those madn in Hulmatu, your entire counter-terrorism plan will miscarry, and you might even lose Ozham, and by then, it won't be , Song Heping, who is embarrassed."

Simon's face resembled a rotten tomato that's been roasting in a garbage heap for a week.

He clenched his fists tightly.

But he knew, every word Song Heping said was cold and harsh truth, a naked, open strategy.

The United States is now caught in a dilemma, desperately needing the poisonous but lifesaving straw, Song Heping, to stabilize the collapsing northwest Illiguo situation.

"Song."

Simon's voice turned incredibly dry: "The conditions you put forward... are of great significance, far exceeding my personal authorization scope. I... I need to imdiately consult Washington, report to the President and the National Security Council."

"Please go ahead."

Song Heping didn't even turn his head, rely waved casually toward the door, making a 'please yourself' gesture.

"Although my communication conditions here are simple, not up to the standards of your White House situation room, it should still be possible to connect with Washington. The signal is better in the yard, you can go there to make your encrypted call. However, Simon, my patience and the situation on the front line are limited. Please make sure to hurry."

Simon did not say another word, abruptly turned around with the two equally sullen-faced bodyguards, and quickly exited the suffocating command post, toward a relatively secluded corner in the yard.

He then took out the specially encrypted satellite phone and forcefully pressed the direct line number of White House Chief of Staff Brenan.

The call was connected almost instantly.

Clearly, Brenan and the big man behind him had been anxiously waiting for news from Dagula.

"What conditions did he set?"

Brenan's voice carried urgency, he didn't even address Simon by na.

Simon swallowed hard, then recited Song Heping's three bombshell conditions as succinctly as possible, one by one, verbatim.

The other end of the phone instantly fell into a deathly silence.

It wasn't until ten seconds later when that silence almost made Simon think the signal had dropped.

Then, Brenan's uncontrolled roar exploded, nearly piercing the eardrum, shattering Simon's eardrum:

"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! Who the hell does he think he is?! God?! One billion dollars?! And those equipnts?! Damn it, and he wants us to wash him clean?! That damned, hell-bound terrorist! Bastard! He's blackmailing! It's naked, unconcealed nuclear extortion!!"

Brenan's voice was completely twisted due to extre anger, filled with hysteria.

"Tell him! Dream on! Let him go live in his cloud-cuckoo land! We'd rather send a B-2 Ghost strategic bomber to wipe his damn command post, him included, off the map completely! We will not bow down to him! Never!"

Simon had long anticipated Brenan's reaction, or rather, the initial extre anger and rejection from the entire Washington leadership.

He patiently listened to the crazy swearing from the other end, until Brenan's fury seed to vent a little, and the breathing was no longer so intense, he used an unusually calm tone to speak:

"SIR, calm down. Using a B-2 to bomb him?"

He paused, letting the other party digest the consequences behind this seemingly satisfying option.

"Not to ntion whether we can precisely locate and ensure to instantly eliminate a well-prepared Song Heping in a short ti—Don't forget, he also has a retreat in Persia, if things go south, he could flee to Persia, are we going to declare war on Persia?"

"Even if we're lucky, really manage to bomb him to the sky, then what? The 'Musician' Defense Company would instantly beco leaderless, plunging into chaos or even collapse. The threat of the 1515 Ard still exists, possibly more rampant due to losing constraint. Ozham and Agra would be completely dood in days... no, possibly within dozens of hours!"

"At that ti, the counter-terrorism strategy we have been operating in Illiguo for so many years, spending countless money and blood, will collapse like a castle on the sand, completely bankrupt! By then, those crazy 1515 militants will drive straight in and occupy a large area of northwest Illiguo, even threatening Elbil! Should we reinforce Illiguo again? Or rely on the Air Force's continued bombardnt to stop them? How much funding is needed to reinforce Illiguo? Don't forget, those Congress mbers will definitely use this incident to attack us... Who is responsible for this catastrophic disaster? You? Or ? Or is it Mr. President himself?"

He rcilessly exposed the bloody reality, every word hitting like a hamr: "SIR, wake up! We need him now! Urgently need! Without him Song Heping and his group of war-torn desperadoes, we cannot find a second force that can effectively curb the 1515 Ard on the ground in a short ti! The Kurds are now beaten badly, morale is low! The Iliko Governnt Army is even more of a bunch of hopeless muddy walls, completely useless! This is the cruelest reality we have to face!"

"But... but that can't..."

Brenan still wanted to argue, trying to hold onto that little bit of "political correctness" and "national dignity," but his tone was clearly not as strong and decisive as before, revealing internal struggle and weakness.

"There's nothing that can't!"

Simon interrupted him unceremoniously: "It's ti to make a decision. Now in front of us, there are only two roads, choose one, no middle option! Either, compromise, put aside the ridiculous face and so-called bottom line, agree to his conditions, even if only partially agree, use him to get through the deadly crisis at hand, concentrate efforts to get rid of '1515' this major threat. Things later, think of ways to solve them later, even if it's poison to quench thirst!"

"Or, we just hold on, then prepare to endure the risk of the Illigo situation completely getting out of control, then the entire Middle East situation may change extrely adversely to us as a serious consequence! Tell , which of these two choices will damage national interest more? Which one makes it easier for the President and you and I to account to Congress?!"

On the other side of the phone, Brenan fell silent again.

You can only hear his heavy breathing mixed with the low discussion of other aides in the background.

Obviously, Brenan is not alone on the other side of the phone.

Agreeing to Song Heping's conditions is undoubtedly poison to quench thirst, endless trouble, will trigger a political storm dostically.

But disagree, the ss at hand will imdiately be unmanageable, the chain reaction it causes may be even more disastrous.

Ti passes second by second, each second as long as a century.

After what seed really like a century, Brenan squeezed out a sentence with extre reluctance through clenched teeth:

"No... I still can't agree... It breaks through our bottom line, also beyond what the President can accept... Simon, interrupt the negotiations, co back imdiately. We... we think of another way, maybe from within the Kurds..."

Simon's heart suddenly turned cold.

He knew he couldn't convince Brenan.

Hypocritical political correctness and so-called "dignity" still topped the cold and cruel strategic reality needs.

The gentlen in Washington would rather watch the situation rot than to make such a "humiliating" concession on face.

"I understand."

Simon sighed: "I'll leave now."

He hung up the phone, standing stiffly on the spot for a long ti.

Then spent a little ti to collect his sense of defeat, and then re-adjust his expression and walked back to the command center.

He didn't even need to open his mouth, just the undisguisable gray on his face and the helplessness in his eyes, Song Heping already knew the final result.

"Seems like the gentlen in Washington ultimately still can't put down their pathetic stature and arrogance."

Song Heping's tone carried undisguised sarcasm, he was even too lazy to pretend to be regretful.

Simon felt his cheeks burning: "Song, it's regrettable... After careful consideration, the White House... cannot accept the conditions you proposed. The negotiations... stop here."

"Haha."

Song Heping laughed.

He shook his head and looked at Simon:

"Go back and tell Mr. Brenan, and the President hiding in the Oval Office of the White House, you guys... will definitely regret today's stupid and short-sighted decision. Without Song Heping, you simply can't handle this mud ss in Illiguo. Watch, very soon, maybe by tomorrow, you'll realize how stupid it was to reject today."

His words carried confidence, devoid of any heat.

Simon found himself speechless, his lips moved, but he couldn't make any sound.

He knew this is not an empty threat.

Song Heping, he knew too well.

This thing...

It's probably going to be more troubleso.