Mercenaries, I Will Be King Chapter 1557 1262: Hardliners (Part 3)

"Yes! Colonel! I guarantee the task will be completed!"

Hoffman responded in a loud voice, a look of relief flashing across his face at having received support.

This was exactly the tough response that both he and the company behind him had anticipated.

Colonel Kote nodded slightly and said, "I will imdiately coordinate with superiors to resolve the list of additional equipnt and budget authorization. Rember, Mr. Hoffman, what I want to see is swift, effective action and clear results. I will provide you with resources, but the results must be guaranteed by you. You must let that self-important 'Musician' defense company boss, Song Heping, know who truly calls the shots on this land."

At the sa ti, in Hulmatu, Northwest, at the "Musician" Defense Company headquarters.

Unlike the tense, icy atmosphere in the Baghdad Green Zone conference room, here at the mont was filled with the enthusiasm of a reunion after a long absence.

The compound was a renovated estate originally abandoned by a local tycoon closely associated with Song Heping. It was surrounded by heightened and fortified concrete walls, barbed wire and surveillance caras were mounted on top, with sturdy watchtowers built at the four corners, deployed with general-purpose machine guns and sniper positions, highly guarded.

But once passing the main entrance guarded by double iron gates and sandbag fortifications, entering the living and command area inside, it presented a completely different world.

The original Arabic-style courtyard was retained and even refurbished, surrounded by green trees, creating a relatively comfortable and safe environnt.

As Song Heping's command vehicle drove dust-covered into the courtyard and stopped steadily in front of the main building's porch, which had strong Arabic-style arches, several figures had been waiting there for a long ti.

As soon as the car stopped, and before the engine's aftersound had dissipated, a two-ter-tall figure, as robust as a humanoid tank, thudded over.

"White Bear" Andre unceremoniously opened the car door, reached in with a palm-sized like a fan, and directly pulled out Song Heping, who was just about to alight, then without saying a word, gave him a solid bear hug, with trendous force making Song Heping feel his bones and joints cracking.

"Song! Haha! My dear brother! I've missed you so much!"

White Bear's voice rumbled like thunder in the Siberian primal forest, impregnated with a strong Russian accent, vibrating the eardrums.

Song Heping finally managed to escape from his "death hug", rubbing his slightly numb shoulder, and punched his rock-hard chest, half-smilingly scolded:

"Easy, Andre! My old bones can't take the shaking of a Siberian bear like this! Looks like you haven't missed fine dining in Africa, your strength's grown again!"

At this mont, "Queen" Yuliy appeared behind Andre.

"Glad to see you're still alive, Song."

She reached out her right hand and gave Song Heping's hand a firm shake, a clean and swift gesture, without any superfluities.

"No missing limbs, you look in pretty good shape."

"Thanks to you, still alive for now."

Song Heping smiled and responded: "This place has lots of troubles, but not yet to the extent that they could cost my life."

Finally, a man wearing gold-rimd glasses walked over unhurriedly from inside the porch.

Ferrari, the deputy general manager of the "Musician" Defense Company, de facto CFO, business developnt director, and chief negotiator, Song Heping's most trusted right-hand man and 'treasurer'.

"Song, my brother."

Ferrari stepped up and also offered a hug, moderate in force, perfectly balanced to express enthusiasm without overstepping.

"You look well, it seems the winds and smoke from Northwest Illinois haven't done much to this battlefield veteran."

His eyes scanned Song Heping's face and attire ticulously, then seemingly casually glanced at the surrounding vehicles, the positioning of the guards, and the maintenance status of the courtyard, as though the mont he stepped onto this land, he already ford an initial evaluation model of the operational status, security level, and resource consumption here.

"As long as you're guarding our base camp in Africa, I can rest assured dealing here with the Yankees and those brainwashed lunatics."

Song Heping patted Ferrari's elbow firmly, expressing gratitude.

Between n, words sotis are redundant.

A subtle motion and a look can encapsulate everything.

"Was the journey smooth? Encounter any 'oblivious' troublemakers?"

"So minor hassles, like certain tribe militants wanting to charge toll fees, or airport customs trying to find fault to extort more 'service fees'."

Ferrari adjusted the gold-rimd glasses on his nose, a sharp gleam fleeting across his eyes through the lenses, though his tone remained light and casual.

"All solved according to 'standard procedure'. Efficiency wasn't bad. But this place sure is chaotic, haha, the ss the Aricans left behind keeps getting ssier."

The four stood under the porch, the atmosphere of reunion heated and sincere.

After not seeing each other for half a year, they had endless things to say.

White Bear clamored loudly, eagerly wanting to see the "new toys" Song Heping had set up here—

Primarily referring to the increasingly elite local militia he trained and equipped, and possibly the new equipnt obtained, like those D-30 howitzers that achieved "great victories"; Yuliy was more concerned about the specific terrain surrounding Hulmatu, potential sniper positions, the activity patterns of hostile forces, and the impact of local climate on long-range shooting, already entering combat mode; while Ferrari had started exchanging views with Song Heping quickly and quietly about recent cash flows, details of security contracts signed with local tribal chiefs, and potential new business opportunities, numbers and clauses flowing smoothly from his mouth.

"Alright, let's not all stand here like we're having a eting."

Song Heping laughed, and embraced White Bear's broad, firm shoulders forcefully, saying to everyone, "I've had a welco dinner prepared in the back restaurant. Though the conditions here in Hulmatu are simple, not comparable to our strongholds in Africa or Eastern Europe, there's plenty of Vodka, Whiskey! Freshly slaughtered lamb, enough to fill up! We'll eat and chat, and have a good relax!"

He paused, as his gaze swept over the three travel-weathered yet spirited old brothers, his smile slightly retracting, his tone becoming a bit serious:

"The reason I called you guys over isn't for engaging in Illinois business, but more importantly, about the new logistics support contract I previously negotiated with the US Military for the Afghan side, it's now ti to take over. Currently, I'm tied up in Illinois and need your help with this matter, and we need to discuss it thoroughly later."

Upon hearing the keywords "Afghan" and "US Military Logistics Contract," a gleam flashed through Ferrari's gold-rimd lenses; he knew this ant larger-scale operations, more complex opponents, and greater profits.

They all understood that when Song Heping said "detailed discussion," he didn't an a carefree chat during an old friend's dinner.

It would be an internal strategic eting deciding the next strategic focus, resource allocation, and even the developnt direction for the next few years of the "Musician" Defense Company.

This welco dinner would determine the company firmly rooting in Illinois while successively extending its reach to the more challenging and profitable Afghan battlefield, further expanding the "Musician's" global defense business amidst strong adversaries.