Niki had left.
But before she left, she didn't tell Song Heping anything about what happened to Mist.
Less than five minutes after Niki's departure, Song Heping received a text on his cellphone, containing a phone number, and a na.
Sebo.
At this mont, Song Heping had no ti to ask Niki where exactly Mist was; after all, if the US Special Forces were really involved in so operation that went awry, involving sensitive matters, she wouldn't divulge it.
Calling Sebo, the party picked up quickly.
"I'll wait for you at the airport, I'll arrive in an hour!"
The Sebo on the phone was extrely succinct, not even asking what was the matter with Song Heping.
Evidently, Niki had already inford him.
It was already three in the afternoon.
Song Heping was becoming sowhat anxious now.
Taking the weapons and ammunition then setting out, the journey from Kabul to Kandahar was not an easy one, it would take at least four hours to get there.
According to the required timing, it wasn't a problem, but after dark, the road southward was treacherous.
He agonizingly waited for an hour.
Song Heping did not catch sight of Sebo.
Waiting for another fifteen minutes.
He finally couldn't bear it any longer and called Sebo.
"Sebo, where are you? I still need to rush to Kandahar; if you don't co soon, it'll be dark!"
"Even if you leave now, it would still be dark by the ti you reach Kandahar."
Sebo didn't think there was any issue with himself.
"Don't rush, my brother, Niki is my good friend, I wouldn't stand you up, I'll definitely arrange everything for you."
He hung up the phone after speaking.
Another half hour passed, and Song Heping finally saw a convoy entering from the direction of the airport entrance.
Leading was a Humr M1118, followed by four military trucks.
He suddenly had a premonition, this was probably that guy Sebo arriving.
Though sowhat late, it was better than not showing up at all.
Once the convoy reached Song Heping, Sebo jumped out of the vehicle, then popped his head out of the Humr.
"Song?"
His English was very good, there were no communication barriers.
"It's ."
After confirming it was indeed Song Heping, Sebo got down from the vehicle, then walked up to Song Heping and pointed at the trucks: "The equipnt is all inside, do you want to check the goods?"
Song Heping walked to the back of the truck, and the dustproof canvas was lifted.
A pile of individual soldier equipnt appeared before his eyes.
AKM assault rifles equipped with optical sights and laser pointers, PASGT vests, Beretta pistols, and so on...
Though not top-grade items, they would be serviceable.
Sebo blabbered non-stop at his side, bragging about his contribution: "Putting together this batch of equipnt for you in such a short notice wasn't easy, I had to use my own authority and pull so connections, only then could I open this back door for you, and I've taken a great risk..."
Before he could finish, Song Heping interrupted with a question: "How much?"
"What?"
Sebo was taken aback.
The reason for his boasting about the difficulties and exaggerating was truly for the money.
The salary of the Afghan new governnt was not high.
That's why departnt heads below and those with a bit of power would all take the opportunity to make money.
This world is chaotic.
Afghanistan is even more so.
It's one of the most chaotic places in the world.
So, what's wrong with making a bit of money?
"Well, this..."
"Six hundred thousand US dollars, is that enough?" Song Heping had a background in arms trade, and naturally, he was well aware of the prices.
Of course, he had quoted high.
He calculated these items at 5000 US dollars per set, plus the vehicles.
By all rights, it would be worth more than this price.
But Song Heping understood very well what role Sebo played.
Just like Yusuf, he was simply selling off public property and then reporting it as combat losses.
Niki obviously knew this, which is why he told him to "prepare so money" during the conversation earlier.
Interestingly, the US Army's intelligence division was aware that Afghan Intelligence Bureau personnel were selling off equipnt on the black market, yet they said nothing...
"Six hundred thousand US dollars?" Sebo originally thought getting half that price would be good enough.
After all, secondhand black market goods can't be sold as legitimate goods, right?
"Too little?"
"No, no, no!"
Sebo, afraid that Song Heping would change his mind, shook his head repeatedly.
"The price is very fair."
Song Heping looked around. It was broad daylight.
This was the largest US Air Force base in Afghan.
Yet here he was, blatantly trading arms with an Afghan Intelligence Bureau operative, with US Army vehicles and ground crews coming and going in the distance, and not a single person interfering.
How interesting!
Afghan is an interesting place.
He suddenly felt that he could really make a splash here.
"Give a bank account, preferably an overseas one. Do you have one?"
Song Heping asked Sebo for an account to pay the bribe.
Sebo shook his head.
"We always dealt in cash before."
"Do I look like soone who walks around with a hundred and so million in cash?"
Sebo shook his head again, looking sowhat embarrassed.
This gave Song Heping a new perspective.
This guy doesn't seem to have been in the ga for very long.
People like Yusuf already had arrangents in several overseas accounts.
Yet this Afghan Intelligence Bureau agent with his ruddy dark skin didn't have even one overseas account.
Looks like the old fellows in the new governnt are so stingy they won't even throw their dogs a bone, leaving them this starved...
"No worries, for the sake of you and Niki being friends, I'll set up an overseas account for you. The money will remain in your hands, but you can access it anyti, and you'll be the only one with the right to do so."
"This..."
Sebo seed hesitant.
Song Heping saw through his worry and reassured him: "Don't worry, I'm known for my reliability. Plus, you know Niki wouldn't just give my number to anyone. If he gave it, it ans I can be trusted. And this is your territory, after all. I have to work here for at least another year. We will have plenty of opportunities to collaborate in the future."
After speaking, he took a business card out of his pocket and handed it over.
Sebo held the business card and murmured the words written on it—
"'Musician' International Defense Company CEO, Song Heping..."
"I am here to fulfill a contract signed with the British Ministry of Defense. However, there was a problem with the equipnt en route, so I urgently needed to get to Kandahar, which is why I asked Niki for help."
Song Heping patted his shoulder and turned to the others, saying, "Gather the equipnt, Jiang Feng, Collins, you guys organize it."
More than sixty people sward over, quickly offloading the equipnt and putting it on.
Sebo was left speechless.
He couldn't very well turn hostile here.
Although trading equipnt is an open secret, making a scene could still lead to becoming a scapegoat.
"Alright, I trust you."
Sebo clenched his teeth and nodded.
"But... when will the money arrive? How do I get it?"
Song Heping replied: "It'll be arranged within a day. Give your personal details, and I'll have soone take care of it right now."
Sebo imdiately took out his phone, composed his information, and sent it to Song Heping.
Song Heping looked at the information and forwarded it to Ferrari in Illiguo, then made a call.
"Ferrari, did you get my ssage?"
"Got it." Ferrari asked, "Whose information?"
Song Heping glanced at Sebo next to him and chuckled, "It's the information of an Afghan friend I just made. He did a huge favor. Don't ask anything else for now; just set up an overseas account for him imdiately and deposit six hundred thousand dollars into it. Oh, and if this person contacts you later with questions about details, just answer him, help him out."
"Alright, looks like you've made a new friend in Afghan," Ferrari teased.
"Within the four seas all n are brothers," Song Heping used a Chinese saying that Ferrari would understand: "Hurry up and take care of it, he's waiting for the money."
Ending the call, Song Heping waved his cell phone at Sebo.
"See, easy as that, it's done. Alright, I need to get going. We should keep in touch from now on, we're friends from today forward."
With that, he waved to his n: "Let's set out, to Kandahar!"
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