Eight o'clock that evening.
Istanbul, 56 National Street, Angela Cafe.
Song Heping sat at a small table by the window.
The cafe had two entrances, and this one was at the back door. If you turned right after going out the back, you'd end up in the congested and sprawling Old Town.
Though it seed like a completely open and non-secretive place, Song Heping took a careful look around and noticed that there were only two old n sitting at the bar, drinking coffee and chatting. The other tables were empty.
Yet they were drinking their coffee until their faces turned red. When Song Heping walked in, he slled alcohol on them and was initially surprised, but then he thought it seed quite reasonable.
Though Turkey is a secular country, there are still taboos when it cos to faith, and alcohol is not sothing to be consud carelessly.
So mixing alcohol with coffee wouldn't be a bad compromise.
Clearly, Angela Cafe catered to local patrons, and there weren't many custors in the evening. Plus, such a small cafe located in the Old Town, with its chaotically arranged buildings, and a maze of alleyways right outside the back door, where one could disappear without a trace, made it a good eting spot.
Song Heping took a sip of his coffee and found that it had grown cold.
The eting was set for seven thirty.
Why was Chris Chen so unreliable with ti?
Could he possibly be Indian?
"Boss, bring another pot of coffee."
Song Heping decided to wait patiently.
Experience told him that Chen had to be nearby, maybe secretly watching him from sowhere.
After all, they were both sly old foxes with plenty of enemies to their nas. None were fools.
The coffee arrived quickly.
Song Heping poured so hot coffee into his cup, recalling how things at the border that day had gone exactly as Ferrari had described.
The customs officer did indeed give him a hard ti, but after handing over two hundred US dollars and putting on a pitiful act, the officer, with an air of indulgence, gave him a few words of admonition and then waved him through.
"This Turkey, truly interesting..."
Thinking about it, Song Heping couldn't help but laugh quietly to himself.
Just then, the door chid.
The bell hanging on the door rang.
Song Heping looked up and saw a forty-sothing-year-old guy walk in.
An Asian face with distinctively Chinese features.
It brought an instant sense of familiarity.
It was definitely him.
Song Heping was almost certain that the man in front of him was Chris Chen.
Indeed, when their eyes t, both n revealed knowing smiles.
As if they were old friends, Chen ca straight over and sat down opposite Song Heping, and then he started speaking in a robust standard Mandarin.
"Been waiting long?"
"And you've been observing for a while," Song Heping teased Chen before asking curiously, "Are you Chinese?"
"Yes." Chen reached for Song Heping's coffee pot and poured himself a cup. "Can't you tell from my perfect Mandarin? You think I'm a banana?"
Song Heping said, "Your na is quite 'banana'."
Chen laughed, "When in a foreign country, one has to adapt, and besides, just like your past, it might not be the real thing."
As he spoke, he sipped his coffee, his gaze andering over Song Heping's face.
"You've checked on ?" Song Heping guessed. "Thought I was one of your enemies?"
Chen shook his head, "I don't target anyone in particular, but I check out anyone who looks for . Caution is the parent of safety."
Song Heping asked him, "So what did you find?"
Chen grimaced, put down his coffee cup, "You're quite skilled. In just a short year in Illiguo, you beca a rising star in the PMC circles. Were you a soldier before?"
Song Heping didn't hide it; if Chen hadn't been able to find out that much, there was no point in making a deal with him.
"Right, I was a soldier."
Chen asked, "203?"
Upon hearing the number, Song Heping's hand, holding his coffee, trembled slightly, and his gaze beca sharp as he stared at Chen in front of him.
Chen hurriedly explained, "I an no harm."
"Only soone who can find that code..." Murder flickered in Song Heping's eyes. "What do you think I should do with you?"
Chen's heart skipped a beat.
He thought, is this guy for real?
"Warhead" was right after all.
Those who ca out of that unit were more vigilant than the next.
Probably he thought there had been a leak.
For those from Unit 203, knowing that code ant there had been a breach.
Although he had not officially joined, he had trained there for nearly half a year.
It was possible that Song Heping might actually kill him.
"We're not enemies, you don't have to be so tense," Chen said, feeling a bit stubborn and not wanting to admit defeat, he retorted, "Even if you were to make a move, you might not be able to beat ."
Song Heping replied coldly, "Wanna try?"
Chen said, "You don't want my help anymore?"
Song Heping said, "I sought your help to save a friend of a friend. Even without you, I could just find soone else. But if you're linked to the informant, killing you would be a show of loyalty to my forr unit. What do you think I'll choose?"
Suddenly, Chen felt he might have gone too far.
He really shouldn't have ntioned Unit 203...
Damn it...
This guy is really...
After so many years away from there, he still rembered all those damn rules.
"I'll say it again, I'm not your enemy," Chen said, fixing his gaze on Song Heping, ready for any outco.
If Song Heping attacked, he would have to find a way to escape.
All of a sudden, he regretted agreeing to this eting.
Curiosity killed the cat, as they say.
He had always repressed his own curiosity for many years.
Maybe it was because he'd been abroad for so many years, seeing Song Heping felt sowhat familiar, which is why he had the impulse to et.
Now, it seed he might have outsmarted himself.
Fortunately, in the end, Song Heping appeared to abandon the idea of killing Chen.
"How did you co to know that code?" he asked.
Chen breathed a sigh of relief. "I can't say, you understand, right?"
Song Heping watched Chen for a long ti, the murderous intent in his eyes suddenly receding like the tide.
"Alright, I'll let it go because I take a liking to you," he said.
He did not press any further.
Song Heping had a vague feeling that Chen's background was not simple.
But he was also clear that pressing for answers would lead nowhere.
His instincts told him that Chen was not his enemy.
In fact, he didn't know that after hearing his words, Chen secretly let out a long, silent sigh of relief.
"Let's get back to our business," Song Heping said.
"Fine."
"What exactly do you need my help with this ti? Ferrari didn't make it clear in the Dark Web chat room," Chen inquired.
"I need you to help look into sothing. The AUC guerrillas in Colombia recently kidnapped a Russian. He's a Mafia underboss, a friend of a friend. They've demanded a ransom, and I've had people stalling them for now, but I don't think it'll last more than a week. I need to know where the Russian is being held," Song Heping summarized the situation briefly.
Previously, Ferrari had ntioned that he hadn't provided detailed information to Chen.
After listening, Chen frowned slightly, "You want to provoke the AUC for a Russian? Are you sure?"
Song Heping said, "Aren't you an intelligence dealer? I pay money, you give intelligence. Don't ask about the rest."
Chen smiled, "I do have a way to find out the holding location, but let warn you, little brother, don't think you're invincible just because you're from Unit 203. You think with your company's size you can just storm into the Colombian jungles and snatch people? Do you really think you can piss on King Yama's head?"
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