"I'm so excited!"
Half a month later, on an international flight from Caracas International Airport in Venezuela to Moscow, Russia, Jiang Feng, sitting in the business class, was a bit restless, nervous like a child.
"How long has it been since you went ho?" Song Heping asked.
"Over a year now..."
Jiang Feng suddenly quieted down, staring blankly at the cabin ceiling.
Song Heping did not continue to ask why he hadn't gone ho.
Everyone has their own story.
After all, which man doesn't leave his hotown to carve out a place for himself, to succeed in his career and then return ho in glory?
In those years Jiang Feng worked as a rcenary for EO company in Africa, he didn't manage to save much money, so naturally, he didn't want to go back.
Who doesn't want to return ho in glory? Who doesn't want to co back rich and respected?
This ti, being able to return ho with so money in his pocket, he was naturally very excited.
"Don't rush, we first fly to Saint Petersburg, stay there for two days, then head back to our country."
"Old squad leader, why are we going to Saint Petersburg?"
Song Heping said, "First, we couldn't get direct flight tickets, and second, I have an old friend there. He helped recruit the pilot and technician team, so I must go and thank him in person."
Jiang Feng asked, "Is it that chef?"
"Exactly," Song Heping nodded. "Yes, he's also one of the founders of our company."
The chef's efficiency in handling affairs was indeed beyond reproach.
Song Heping had to admit, the chef truly was capable.
Four technicians and one weapons engineer, the chef had arranged everything in less than a week, and they were currently disassembling an aircraft over at Illiguo's place.
Three pilots had already been agreed upon; all forr elite pilots of the Russian Air Force, so now worked for Russian Airlines, others for cargo shipping companies, not earning a high salary.
Song Heping offered a single annual salary of 240,000 plus two months of vacation and a one million US Dollar accident insurance for each, and they imdiately agreed to join.
Leave the professional tasks to the professionals.
This was Song Heping's principle of doing things.
As for things like aircraft which he really didn't understand, but seeing those technicians had fixed a Mi-171 helicopter, deed unable to fly, in just four days after arriving in Illiguo, for Song Heping that alone felt worth the cost of the endeavor.
Dominic was the happiest, finally having his own helicopter, no longer idling around in the company like a little follower alongside Ferrari.
In the coming months, Song Heping must quickly return ho to assemble a construction crew, sign contracts with them, and have them build a runway and base in Venezuela in the shortest ti possible.
According to the pilots and ground crew, a good thing about Soviet-series fighter jets is they don't require high-standard runways; a 1000-ter runway would suffice for the likes of the Su-24 fighter jets for takeoff and landing.
However, the biggest issue now wasn't the construction period, but who could build a one-kiloter runway and two simple hangars within three months.
Song Heping wasn't worried about other sites for the training base; Jiang Feng could direct the construction team on that, but the most critical was that runway—without it, planes couldn't take off.
Besides that, there was also the issue of transporting the aircraft.
Currently, the paperwork was handled by Yusuf; the three million US Dollar armant and the two Su-24 fighter bombers were still managed by the shipping company that previously handled the SA-9 missile delivery.
Ferrari could handle these affairs well, but his most crucial task was to return ho and find the construction team; no one understands infrastructure better than the people of China.
To build a runway in such a short ti, only a Chinese construction company would do; construction teams from other countries were unreliable.
After the plane landed at Saint Petersburg Airport, Song Heping, along with Jiang Feng, passed through customs, walked out of the airport, and was just about to reach out for his phone to contact the chef when he heard a familiar voice behind him—
"Song! My brother!"
Actually, without even turning around, Song Heping knew who it was.
The chef's slightly rough yet resonant baritone was easy to recognize.
He turned around and saw the chef, dressed in a suit.
This guy looked nothing like he did a year ago in Illiguo.
Back then, the chef would wear tactical outfits every day, his face sunburnt and his skin rough.
But now, standing in front of Song Heping, the chef was rosy-cheeked with delicate white skin, and his half-bald head shone like a gangster boss from the movies.
"Damn, chef, your whole vibe has changed," Song Heping dropped his luggage and also opened his arms to his old battle buddy.
The two embraced tightly, the chef thumped Song Heping's back before letting go and asking, "How long are you staying this ti? I'll show you the nightlife of Saint Petersburg, then we'll go hunting in the Far East and fishing in the Baltic Sea!"
"I can't, I can only stay for two days. My flight is already booked, I'm leaving the day after tomorrow, rushing back to the motherland."
Song Heping declined his generous offer.
The chef's expression soured, "Why? Don't you find the bustle of Saint Petersburg appealing, or is this old brother not worth a few extra days?"
Looking around, with people coming and going outside the airport, Song Heping said to the chef, "Let's get in the car and talk."
The chef led them to a stretched Lincoln, and the driver ca over to load Song Heping's luggage into the trunk.
The two got into the car, and the chef glanced at his watch and instructed the driver, "To the hotel."
Jiang Feng was sitting in this type of stretched Lincoln luxury car for the first ti, the interior was like a mini-bar with dining tables, liquor shelves, and a TV, all adorned with luxurious leather and gold-plated decorations, making him unsure where to put his hands.
The chef casually picked a bottle of whiskey off the rack, asking Song Heping, "Red wine, vodka, or shall we drink whiskey?"
Song Heping knew the chef loved to drink, not drinking might make it awkward, so he nodded, "Let's have so whiskey."
The chef looked at Jiang Feng, while pouring drinks and asked, "Where did you find this kid?"
"He's not a kid, he's a brother. He used to be with the EO Company in Africa. He joined shortly after you left," Song Heping added, "A forr Air Assault Brigade guy, really skilled."
"Oh?" The chef, who greatly respected ability, hearing Song Heping declare him skilled, surely wouldn't consider him otherwise.
He handed a glass to Jiang Feng, "Relax, treat this like you're back ho! For now, we are still, technically, colleagues."
The chef still held shares in the "Musician" Defense, so calling them "colleagues" wasn't a stretch.
Looking around the luxurious car interior, Jiang Feng remarked, "This car wasn't cheap, huh?"
The chef replied, "It's not as expensive as your company's bulletproof Lincolns. This car is used for business purposes, just for show."
Song Heping rembered sothing, quickly pulled out a box of cigars from his bag, and handed it over, "I brought you a gift from South Arica, thought you'd like it."
The chef took it, saw a box of Cuban Habanos cigars--his personal favorite, and took a light sniff at them.
"Nice, top-notch! This model isn't easy to get, where did you find it?"
"Got a general in Venezuela to find them for ," Song Heping wasn't secretive, "He's got so connections with Cuba, and these cigars were in his ho, so I just passed them on."
The chef arched his brows slightly, set the cigars aside, then handed the drink to Song Heping, adding ice to it himself with a series of considerate and smooth movents.
Song Heping felt sowhat dreamy.
He wasn't unfamiliar with the chef's way of treating people.
Previously at the Republic Palace, he had entertained Aunt Nancy in this sa grand manner, making the whip lady feel warmly welcod.
If he hadn't introduced himself as a rcenary leader, one would really think he was a restaurant owner.
"Venezuela, a great place," the chef lounged back into the soft sofa, slowly comnted, "Do you plan to expand your endeavors into South Arica?"
"I'm considering it, Illiguo is good for business but not for laying down roots," Song Heping spoke, "The company needs a safer location."
The chef's lips twitched, ultimately, he remained silent but flashed an enigmatic smile.
Song Heping suspected he was about to invite him to Russia, but his thoughts were probably similar to his own.
Both were tigers, unsuitable to hunt on the sa mountain.
So, the chef also held back.
Song Heping didn't want to continue the topic, so he queried about the chef's restaurant, "Chef, I heard your restaurant in Saint Petersburg is quite special."
Pumped about his restaurant, the chef perked up imdiately, burst into an animated talk, "If we're talking size, my restaurant isn't big by Saint Petersburg standards, but if it's about the taste and class of the food, I dare say no one can compete with my restaurant. First, we'll drop the luggage at the hotel, then you co with to my restaurant. I'll take care of everything tonight!"
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