Simon's mind raced, considering Song Heping's proposal from a new angle—
To let the Abu You Brigade station in half of Kirkuk's territory…
At least on the surface, it could serve as a barely acceptable explanation to those officials in Washington who have to face Congressional inquiries and dia scrutiny, and to the Kurdish Autonomous Governnt in Elbil that needs to placate internal factions.
Indeed!
After all, ethnically and legally, Abu You are still Kurd people.
As for the actual control…
In this lawless, war-torn land, power is the only law. It's an unspoken understanding that everyone takes what they need.
Sotis, a plausible excuse is far more important than the naked truth.
Seeing Simon's face change repeatedly, Song Heping knew this guy was cornered and his psychological defenses were beginning to loosen.
He decided to add the final touch, the ultimate ultimatum.
"Simon,"
Song Heping said coldly, "This is the most 'considerate' plan I can offer for your difficulties. Similarly, this is also your last chance. If you hesitate again, and think about stalling with your bureaucratic tricks of buck-passing and delay… then there's no need to talk anymore."
He raised his hand and rudely pointed at the simple wooden door of the conference room: "The door is there, please help yourself. From now on, Kirkuk is my personal territory, any unauthorized forces entering will be considered intrusion. As for the troubles in Hulmatu, figure it out yourselves—whether to send up your Marine Corps to fill the line or have the Air Force keep dropping bombs endlessly, it's none of my concern."
The last few words were pounded into Simon's heart, one word at a ti.
He suddenly looked up, eting Song Heping's determined gaze, feeling that the other party was not posturing, much less joking.
If this negotiation falls apart, there will really be no room for maneuver.
All doors to negotiation will be completely shut.
"This is a critical matter, I need to make a call."
Simon abruptly stood up, the chair legs screeching against the rough cent floor due to the sudden movent.
"Please."
Song Heping made a casual hand gesture, leisurely sitting back, and once again picked up the cup of coarse tea that seed never-ending, gently sniffing it at his nose, then savoring it leisurely.
Simon swiftly walked out of the conference room, found a relatively quiet corner, and dialed the encrypted satellite phone for National Security Advisor Brenan's office again.
Sure enough, as soon as the line connected, and as Simon ntioned Song Heping's condition to control half of Kirkuk's territory, Brenan's furious roar ca through the receiver:
"What?! Let him control half of the Kirkuk Oil Field?! With this kind of insulting thod?! F**k! Simon, has your brain been blown stupid by Illiguo's sandstorms?! Or has that yellow-skinned monkey drugged you?! This is not possible! Don't even think about it! This is a blatant challenge to the authority of the United States of Arica! A severe blackmail and humiliation of our global strategy! We would rather…"
Simon listened impassively, the muscles on his face rigid, as Brenan vented his emotions over the phone.
Until the roaring voice on the other end paused for a breath, he interrupted with a voice as devoid of emotion as possible: "Sir, please calm down. Objectively speaking, this is the best condition I could negotiate to prevent the complete loss of control over the situation, and it's also the only opportunity that would allow the 'Furnace Plan' to proceed."
He paused, then emphasized, almost repeating Song Heping's exact words: "Song reiterated, this is 'the last opportunity.' If we reject it now, he will completely close the negotiation channels. We will permanently lose the possibility of influencing the current situation in Kirkuk, and will need to independently absorb the consequences of the complete collapse of security in Hulmatu and the entire northwest direction of Illiguo. I believe that is a price we cannot afford, whether strategically or politically."
On the other end of the line, there was a dead silence.
Only Brenan's heavy breathing could be heard clearly through the current.
Ti ticked by, each second stretched into what felt like an eternity.
Simon could clearly feel his palm slick with sweat as he gripped the phone.
He knew that while Brenan was known for his explosive temper, to hold such a position, controlling such vast intelligence and strategic resources, he was certainly not a fool easily swayed by emotions.
Weighing pros and cons, evaluating risks, he was more adept and more ruthless than Simon.
Finally, after a prolonged silence, the sound of Brenan's voice squeezed out through gritted back teeth ca over the line:
"F**k! Fine...he won…tell that son of a bitch…we…agree… damn it!"
Simon hung up, relieved, walking back into the conference room stiffly and sitting back in the chair opposite Song Heping.
The hard folding chair seed to be covered in invisible spikes making it uncomfortable to sit.
Song Heping didn't urge him, but leisurely took another sip of the now lukewarm tea, then looked up at him, saying nothing, yet as if saying: "So, done consulting with your master and getting scolded? Now, can we get down to business?"
Simon exhaled all the accumulated frustration in his chest before saying: "Song, your terms… we… in principle, agree."
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