"I am not doing this for ambition, not for power!"
Barzani's face turned into a purplish-red.
Masood called his coup attempt a temptation of "ambition" and "power," which deeply aggravated him.
"I am doing this for the future of Kurdistan! Without the courage to fight and kill, relying only on your lukewarm negotiations and compromises? Depending on your begging to those Shiye Sect politicians in Baghdad? They will never truly grant us autonomy! Only through strength! Only by showing everyone our power and determination, showing that we will stop at nothing!"
"Independence is not selling out your ethnic interests!"
Masood's voice suddenly rose: "You have been blinded by power and ambition, your reckless actions are dragging our people's century-old dream into an abyss! You are not building Kurdistan, you are digging a grave for her with your own hands!"
"A grave? Hahahahaha!"
Barzani let out a string of hysterical cold laughter, jabbing his finger forcefully into Masood's chest:
"Old fool! It's you who can't see reality! This world only respects the strong! And I will be that strong one! As for you... you and your outdated, weak diplomacy will only make us forever dependent on others! Since you stand in my way, since you intend to move against after the troop withdrawal eting..."
His facial muscles twitched, revealing a fierce determination of a desperate gamble: "Then don't bla for making the first move. You are unrighteous, I will be unkind. This is all your doing!"
He took one last look at Masood, a look so complex, filled with lingering kinship, burning hatred, greed for power, and a decisive resoluteness.
Then, he suddenly waved his hand, decisively like swatting a fly: "Lock him back in! Seal the car doors! Quickly!"
Four fully ard guards imdiately stepped forward.
Two of them roughly twisted Masood's arms back, while the other two opened the car door, pushing Masood into the back seat like a piece of cargo.
The heavy rcedes car door slamd shut with a deep "bang," sealing tightly.
Imdiately following, a clear sound of the electronic lock initiating "click," this was a special military-grade multi-point locking system from a German factory. Once activated, even directional explosives from the outside would be hard-pressed to open it quickly.
Barzani backed away more than thirty ters, seemingly wanting to maintain a safe, psychological distance from the impending "accident" scene.
He took a military encrypted frequency-hopping radio model M-250 from the pale-faced adjutant beside him.
Then he took a deep breath and pressed the talk button on the side:
"Mountain Cat One, Mountain Cat One, this is Eagle. The target is in the 'safe box,' 'Funeral' operation is a go. Repeat, 'Funeral' operation, execute imdiately. Authorization code: Delta-Zulu-Seven-Nine-Three."
A brief pause.
Only the unique hiss of white noise on the encrypted channel ca through the radio.
After waiting for more than ten seconds, Barzani's brow furrowed, and a thin layer of sweat appeared on his forehead.
He pressed the talk button again, his voice revealing a hint of subtle anxiety and urgency:
"Mountain Cat One! Respond if you read! I order you, imdiately use 'Short Arrow,' destroy the primary target vehicle! Now! This is a final order! Answer !"
Still only silence.
The silence was like rising icy water, starting to wash over Barzani's facade of composure.
He looked around at the undulating hills, which should have been the triggering point of his carefully laid deathtrap, yet there was only silence and dimness.
Could the coordinates be wrong!?
"Verify the coordinates! Quickly!"
He soon got an answer.
The coordinates were correct.
The location was correct.
The position was not wrong.
An ominous premonition gripped his heart like a ghostly hand.
Behind the rock crevices on the reverse slope of the ridge, the corner of Song Heping's mouth subtly curved upwards, revealing a cold smile.
"Dead n can't be awakened."
Jiang Feng's voice echoed in the encrypted channel.
In his Schmidt & Bender PM II 5-25x56 high-magnification scope, the reticle's crosshairs were steadily trained on the machine gunner's head not far behind Barzani.
Wind speed, humidity, distance, correction…
All data had been calculated in his mind, becoming minute adjustnts as muscle mory.
The index finger lightly touched the first trigger point of the two-stage trigger, needing just 500 grams more pressure for the hamr to release, the firing pin to ignite the prir, and death to whistle along the calculated parabolic path.
"Maintain patience."
Song Heping's gaze swept over the thermal imaging screen. The car holding Masood appeared as a deep blue outline in the cold environnt, but the heat signals from the interior were clear.
"Wait until the 'elder' is completely isolated in the car before taking action. That car's bulletproof rating will provide the best cover in the initial skirmish. We need a 'precise' rescue, not a chaotic encounter."
At this mont, down by the riverbed, Barzani had completely realized the anomaly of the situation.
The radio silence from Mountain Cat Squad was part of the plan, but for it to persist after his highest priority call was impossible!
Cold sweat instantly soaked his lining.
He abruptly turned around, shouting hoarsely at the vigilant Guard soldiers: "There's a situation—"
At the sa ti as he issued the alert, Song Heping's voice transmitted clearly through the encrypted channel to every infiltrator:
"All units be alert, 'Guardian' operation comncing. Fireteam, follow the designated list, free to hunt. Assault team, prepare for extraction. Go."
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