"Are you two the ones heading to the Golden Crescent for infiltration?"
The blonde woman ca over to them, scrutinizing them from head to toe as if appraising livestock.
Finally, her gaze settled on Song Heping's face.
It was only when she got close that Song Heping could see her skin was truly coarse, the golden white sweat hairs standing out like wheat in early spring under the sun.
Especially the very prominent features typical of Westerners, that tall, pointed nose made it feel like it could poke a hole in his face at any mont.
He glanced at Mist, whose expression was already that of a qualified stud horse. Song Heping thought that if it weren't in public, he would be already flirting with her.
Birds of a feather flock together, after all.
What he considered dark cuisine might look like a Christmas feast in Mist's eyes.
"Exactly, we are the main actors in this operation." Mist reached out his hand: "I'm Mist, and this is Song Heping."
The blonde woman extended her hand and shook with Mist: "I'm Major Niki, the person in charge here, and I'll be commanding your operation."
"Wow!" Mist's eyes bulged out even more: "I never expected our commander to be such a beautiful lady."
Mist couldn't wait to start dishing out sweet nothings to the blonde woman in front of him.
In his view, nothing captivated won more than complints. Sweet words were like delicious chocolate, hard for won to resist.
However, his flattery seed to have no effect, as Niki appeared completely unruffled, her gaze unshaken.
She ordered Song Heping and Mist like a drill instructor: "You just got here. I'll give you twenty minutes to settle yourselves. Afterwards, Lieutenant Jones will take you to dinner. Then we'll have a briefing session to give you a brief on the entire operation."
She then turned her gaze to Jones: "These two guys are your responsibility now. Keep an eye on them and don't let them wander around, especially not out of the camp to avoid danger. I wouldn't want to see the participants killed before the mission even begins."
With that, Niki turned and walked away.
Song Heping thought that after such a cold treatnt, Mist would stop trying to flirt.
But unexpectedly, Mist, still not over it, stared at Niki's departing figure, remarking like he was evaluating a dish in front of him, "Song, did you see her tight butt? I bet you could balance a glass on it."
Song Heping looked at this stallion-like man in disbelief. Before, he thought Mist was all talk. On that night in Mosul when they were guiding an attack on 'Hunter', out of boredom, Mist bragged about his complex and illustrious love history to him.
At that ti, Song Heping thought it was just boasting and didn't take it seriously. After all, as a mber of the elite special forces, how could he prefer brawn over brain?
Now, he realized he had overestimated Mist.
Sure, Mist could fight, but he was even more lecherous.
"Damn, are you still not giving up?"
In Song Heping's view, Niki had no interest in Mist at all. Normally, Mist should have known better and given up, but this guy surprisingly remarked, "I like a challenge!"
After arranging their belongings in the tent and sitting on the simple single beds, they began to chat about what exactly this place was, and who the ISA detained here.
Clearly, it was a secret interrogation site.
It was different from many of the CIA's secret camps. The CIA usually did not place their camps inside military bases; they chose locations near military bases, then had their own GRS squads ensure security.
The reason for this is the historical divide between the CIA and the military. Over the years, various collaborations had led to incidents that reduced the trust between them.
The CIA didn't trust the military, and there were many things they preferred the military not to know about, so they rather risked setting up their camps independently, even in war zones.
ISA, on the other hand, was entirely different.
They preferred to set up their camps within military bases, occupying a section as their own base, adopting relatively isolated and enclosed asures, and working independently.
After chatting for a while, Lieutenant Jones walked in.
"Let's go, it's ti to eat."
Seeing him, they stopped their conversation and got up to follow Jones out of the tent.
Jones led them through the camp, and along the way, Song Heping couldn't help but look at the iron cage on the open ground.
Next to the cage now sat a soldier on a chair, no heavy weaponry in sight, just a pistol in his holster and holding a beef burger in his hand with a large bottle of mineral water on the ground. He took large bites of the burger and sips of water, never taking his eyes off the robed man in the cage.
The robed man gripped the iron bars of the cage, kneeling on the ground like a dog, wet and caked with dirt as though dragged out of a boarding house, his eyes desperate and crumbling with hunger as he stared at the juicy beef burger in the guard's hand.
Song Heping guessed what was happening.
It was simply a form of psychological tornt.
He had undergone extre anti-interrogation training.
In interrogation tactics, psychological and physical tornt were the main approaches.
Hunger and thirst were part of physical tornt.
Afghans had a high average altitude, and the area was dry most of the year. Although it wasn't the hottest season, standing outside for a while made one feel as if all the moisture was being sucked out of the body.
The robed man looked very hungry and thirsty, desperately craving the food and water, but he could only watch, unable to reach out.
To deliberately eat in front of him was just adding a layer of psychological tornt on top of the physical suffering—a BUFF.
To those untrained in anti-interrogation, hunger and thirst might seem milder compared to other forms of torture, like beatings, painful interrogations, or drug interrogations, but its effectiveness shouldn't be underestimated.
In extre hunger and thirst, very few can prevent their psyche from crumbling.
Especially when used as a supplentary thod after other forms of torture, many people simply break down.
The so-called canteen, located at the northwest corner of the camp, was a long plank building, approximately 20 ters in length and 10 ters in width.
After entering, Song Heping discovered that it was actually an office area.
It was filled with desks and computers, equipped with a projector and projection screen. However, in one corner of the room there was a Western-style open kitchen, fully stocked with kitchen utensils and a refrigerator. In one section, a few camp beds were thrown about, their ssy blankets indicating that people had slept there before.
Major Niki stood in front of a huge black and white writing board, the kind of magnetic board common in corporate eting rooms, which Song Heping had seen during his ti working dostically.
At that mont, the board was covered in papers held up by magnetic stickers, each piece displaying different contents—so were textual docunts, while others were photo portraits.
Major Niki stood in front of the writing board, holding a dry-erase marker, and after staring at the various papers for a while, she swiftly wrote a few lines on it.
Hearing soone entering, she turned her head and upon seeing Song Heping and Mist, she took the initiative to greet them, "Thom is cooking today. Take a seat here first, and once the al is ready, we can eat and discuss the operation."
In front of her was a long table covered with a green waterproof cloth, next to which military folding chairs were placed, indicating that this was their eting area.
Song Heping casually found a seat and looked around. The aroma of at wafted through the plank house; Thom was cooking in the open kitchen, apparently frying sothing, and suddenly the bread machine next to him beeped and popped out two slices of bread.
Thom skillfully took out the bread, then grabbed the peanut butter from the table and suddenly turned to look at Song Heping and Mist, "Hey! New guys, are either of you allergic to peanuts?!"
Song Heping shook his head, "I'm fine."
Mist also shook his head, "I like peanut butter."
Thom smiled, "Do you want bacon or tuna paste?"
Song Heping, "Tuna paste."
Mist, "Bacon."
Thom spread a layer of peanut butter on two slices of bread, stuffed so chopped vegetables into them, then threw in a few pieces of bacon and squeezed on so sauce that Song Heping could not quite make out, finally creating a sandwich.
Then, he grabbed a piece of beef from the frying pan beside him, threw it onto a plate, brought over two plates each with a sandwich and a beef steak to Song Heping and Mist, placed them in front of the two like he was feeding a pet dog, and then turned back to his cooking.
"There are drinks in the fridge, take whatever you want!"
Song Heping, "Okay..."
He had to admit, the working environnt for this ISA group was indeed pretty relaxed.
This place didn't quite feel like an office, nor a bedroom, nor a canteen.
When in Ro, do as the Romans do.
Song Heping no longer acted reserved with these ISA mbers, and went straight to the fridge to pick a bottle of mineral water, while Mist grabbed a beer.
Returning to the table, the two began to eat they could only eat, as everyone was busy and no one paid them any mind.
After eating for less than five minutes, Major Niki turned around, sat at the table, threw the pen in her hand down, clapped her hands with a snap-snap, "Everyone stop and co over for the eting!"
Apart from Thom, who was still cooking, everyone put down their work and quickly gathered around, taking their seats at the table.
Song Heping glanced around, noting there were about a dozen people.
Major Niki looked at everyone and asked, "Where's Allen?"
One of the team mbers answered, "He's still in the interrogation room with Hamid."
Major Niki picked up the walkie-talkie on the table, "Allen, Allen, how are things your end?"
Soon, a slightly breathless male voice ca from the walkie-talkie, "Almost done, I think it will be ready in another half hour."
"Alright, co to the work area when you're done."
"OK!"
"Alright, gentlen, we can start now."
After Major Niki finished speaking, she picked up two file folders, glanced at the labels, and threw them to Song Heping and Mist.
"These are your fake identities, which you will use when you enter the Golden Star Moon region. One is for Han Fei, which is you, Song. He's also Chinese, and so are you, any problem with embodying this character?"
Major Niki's gaze was intense as she stared at Song Heping, her tone not so much asking as commanding.
Any problem?
Song Heping couldn't help but give a wry smile.
I haven't even looked at the file yet, I only know roughly about this person. How can you expect to give you an answer now?
He felt Major Niki was not only assertive but also quite bureaucratic.
Fortunately, he was trained to believe there's no such thing as a mission that couldn't be completed, so he nodded and said, "No problem."
Major Niki turned to Mist, "Mist, your role is his bodyguard, Polish, nad Joseph Zbesko, any issues with that?"
Mist's attention wasn't on the file at all; he didn't need to think and simply nodded, "No problem at all."
Major Niki scanned the group and instructed, "From today, everyone in the camp will refer to them by these two nas. Rember, from today on, one is Han Fei and the other is Joseph. As for the detailed personal information and their family history, it's all in the file folders. By tomorrow morning before sunrise, you must have the details etched into your bones and morized in your mind. I'll be doing checks."
"Okay."
"No problem!"
After both n responded, Major Niki's expression grew stern, "Gentlen, we have encountered a big problem!"
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