Early the next morning, as dawn just began to break in the Green Zone, the huge roar of helicopter blades tore apart the morning tranquility.
A formation of three helicopters streaked across the sky.
On either side, two Apache Ard Helicopters with missiles and rockets under their stub wings tightly escorted the central UH-60 Black Hawk Helicopter.
Inside the cabin, Simon stared unfocused out the reinforced window at the rapidly passing land below.
He hadn't slept well last night.
The sudden change in Kirkuk kept him awake all night.
The pressure from the White House forced him to call Song Heping overnight, shalessly requesting a second negotiation.
Song Heping gave him so face by not closing the door on negotiations.
Simon had a premonition; this was the last chance.
"Damn Song..."
This curse rolled in his heart.
Toward Song Heping, Simon harbored a deep-seated dread.
After years of dealings, Simon was well aware of this opponent's style.
He was like the most dangerous scorpion in the desert, usually lurking in the shadows, but once he moved like a rabbit, it was to strike at a vital spot with deadly precision.
The first negotiation, he arrived cloaked in the aura and arrogance of a "United States envoy," only to leave humiliated.
So this ti?
Price.
The word buzzed like a fly in his mind, droning incessantly.
This ti, to make the other side relent, he must pay a much higher price than before. He knew this without a second thought.
This ti, he had to be honest.
Otherwise, with Song Heping's temperant, there would absolutely be no third chance.
...
At 9 AM, in the backup command center in Daguge City.
Song Heping stood with arms crossed in front of the military map, his gaze steadily locked onto the area representing Kirkuk.
There, he had already marked a conspicuous circle with a red marker pen.
Kirkuk was now his territory.
Soon, from the distance ca the faint "whirring" sound of helicopter rotor blades stirring the air.
After glancing at his watch and then out the window, he knew the "guest" had arrived as scheduled.
The visitor was still Simon.
Director of the CIA.
Without an invitation.
He called himself, almost pleading, to resu negotiations.
In this round, he had won.
Won cleanly, won decisively.
And now, the chips he held in his hand due to Kirkuk's change in ownership were more valuable than ever.
Not to use these chips to bite a chunk out of the Aricans would not befit his previous rank as second on the CIA's wanted list.
The Black Hawk Helicopter slowly landed on a relatively flat piece of ground in Daguge City, the door opened, and Simon straightened his sharp suit before stiffly disembarking the ladder, accompanied by two bodyguards, heading towards an ard pickup truck that had been waiting there.
No welcoming ceremony, no insincere courtesies, only a few rcenaries with AK-series rifles watched as they boarded the vehicle.
The gaze felt like assessing goods about to be moved.
The journey was silent, only the roar of an engine and the crunch of wheels over gravel breaking the silence.
Inside the vehicle, the atmosphere was oppressively suffocating.
Once more entering that familiar temporary eting room, Simon saw Song Heping already leisurely sitting in the main chair.
Before him was a cup of tea steaming with warmth, the tea leaves gently unfolding in the coarse pottery cup, heightening his composed deanor, as if this weren't a war-torn frontline but his ho study.
"Simon, we et again."
Song Heping raised his eyes, his tone as calm as discussing the weather.
"It seems Washington's coffee just can't compare to my simple tea here, causing you to rush back in such a hurry?"
Simon suppressed the surge of displeasure and humiliation in his heart, forcing a sowhat stiff smile on his face and said, "Song, ti is tight, let's not beat around the bush. Congratulations on taking Kirkuk."
He deliberately used the word "taking," probing subtly.
"Oh?"
Song Heping's eyebrow slightly raised, he picked up the teacup, blowing leisurely over the floating tea leaves.
"'Taking'? Simon, the word you chose... is not quite accurate. I think using 'reclaim,' or even more directly 'take over,' might fit better. After all, it wasn't Arican territory before, nor was it private property of the Kurdish people, right? Are you planning to discuss history with ?"
His tone was relaxed, but the nails hidden within his words stabbed unceremoniously.
Simon felt choked at the chest, holding back his anger as he switched topics, "Okay, let's not debate wording. Song, this ti I'm representing Washington, hoping we can return to the established track. Please have your people withdraw from Kirkuk, then continue our original 'Furnace Plan' cooperation in good faith. Your people can imdiately advance to Hulmatu to completely resolve the dilemma northwest of Illiguo. This is currently the best choice for both our sides."
"Withdraw from Kirkuk?"
Song Heping seed to have heard the funniest joke of the century, he placed the teacup back on the table with a crisp "tap," leaning slightly forward, his eyes sharp as a falcon's keenly fixed on Simon.
"Simon, are you joking internationally with , or do you think I, Song Heping, an independent housing contractor, am running a charity, specializing in making loss deals?"
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