Actually, the cook was pretty cunning himself.
He didn't give Samir the 200 US dollars for nothing.
As soon as he started the job, he got Samir to help him recruit local rcenaries.
Although it wasn't difficult to recruit 60 local rcenaries in just a few days, since people here were desperately poor now, many joined various ard organizations just to survive, with so even becoming informants for those organizations to scrape by.
As long as the salary was reasonable, many locals flocked to the jobs. However, there was a critical issue with local security forces: the quality of individual soldiers.
Many had never touched a gun before and joined the industry simply to make a living. The likes of these local Illiguo rcenaries were very cheap. Song Heping had seen rates as low as 100 US dollars a month for their cheapest employees, hired by small local bosses who purchased a couple of decrepit AK47s that could misfire at any mont, strapped on a bullet belt, and put them straight to work.
These people would often wander around with their guns loaded and safety off, occasionally even pointing the muzzle at others, inciting the urge to give them a fierce kick in the rear.
Having Samir assist with the recruitnt made things much more reliable.
Firstly, he was a local, and secondly, he had once served in the ISF and knew many professional soldiers.
Now, with the title of platoon leader and an extra 200 dollars to his salary, Samir was more driven than anyone. He started working right away, using the company's phone to start shaking down contacts.
The issue with local rcenaries was smoothly resolved, but assembling core team mbers turned out to be tricky.
After Song Heping finished analyzing the report and had devised a defense plan in his room, he heard the cook cursing outside.
"Suka! Do you have no integrity?! How could you stand up after promising to show?! I'm telling you, don't let see you again, or I'll twist your head off! You're a disgrace to soldiers!"
Song Heping stepped out of the container house to see the cook, red-faced and spitting mad on the phone, and couldn't help asking, "What happened?"
"Those sons of bitches stood up!" The cook fud. "They promised they'd fly over tomorrow. I even had Ferrari book their tickets. Then today, out of the blue, they call and say the guys I wanted are gone!"
"Gone how?"
"So boss offered them a high price for bodyguard work, and they all sward to it. They said it was too dangerous here and the pay wasn't as good as what they'd make back ho as bodyguards!"
After speaking, the cook kicked over a nearby bucket in anger.
"Twenty thousand US dollars a month, plus commission and paid vacation! And they call this a low salary?! Even here in Baghdad, that's a high salary! Those swine at ho are nothing more than lackeys to the oligarchs! What's so great about that!"
Grey Wolf tried to calm him down, saying, "Don't get mad, we should think about how to recruit here! Baghdad has a lot of free rcenaries now. If we put out recruitnt information early, we might still snag a few elites."
"Elites my ass!" the cook retorted. "The capable ones have already signed on with big firms. Those who couldn't are just good-for-nothing lost souls!"
Song Heping said, "We were lost souls ourselves just a short while ago. Have you started looking down on others just because you've been fed for a few days?"
Checkmated by Song Heping with the truth, the cook's face turned even redder in frustration.
Song Heping continued, "I say we listen to Grey Wolf and rush over to the recruitnt center to post our ad. That's better than blowing up here. I'm telling you, I just finished analyzing the status of Hassan Oilfield Area. With an area of over five hundred square kiloters, relying solely on our five core team mbers will be impossible to maintain constant vigilance."
Finally simring down, the cook hurriedly told Grey Wolf, "Go to the recruitnt center and post our ad. Make sure the compensation is clear – let's see if we can luck out and recruit so skilled hands."
After Grey Wolf left, the cook made another round of calls utilizing all his connections in Baghdad to find himself so subordinates.
But after making the rounds, he ended up deflated.
The good ones were already recruited, and the cook didn't want those who were just killing ti.
A lot of phone credit was wasted to no avail.
Once Song Heping wrapped up the combat plans, he took Samir to buy guns and ammunition.
Sixty local rcenaries ant sixty sets of individual soldier equipnt, including bullets, hand grenades, 40mm grenades, and other sundry items—it wasn't a small order.
The gun shop owner, Harvey, was noticeably more amiable than before upon seeing Song Heping, breaking into a big grin.
"Song, I heard you've struck it rich, got a big contract, and are even recruiting to expand your team."
Harvey gestured toward the shelves behind him.
"So, are you going for a package deal this ti? I'll give you a discount."
His gaze suddenly fell on Song Heping, and his eyes bulged.
He had spotted the personal equipnt on Song Heping—it wasn't the Romanian-made AKM that he had bought from his store before, but a MK18 carbine used by the US Special Forces.
"That set..." Harvey said, "Where did you get it from?"
Song Heping replied, "It was a gift."
No problem there.
A gift from a dead man.
"A gift?!" Harvey looked incredulous, thinking this young man was definitely talking nonsense.
"Are you doing business or not?"
"Yes, yes, yes! How many sets of individual soldier equipnt do you need?"
"Let's start with sixty sets, load up to three basic allocations of ammunition, and for each set add four hand grenades, two offensive and two defensive, and helts..."
While speaking, Song Heping handed over the list in his hand.
Harvey took it and couldn't help but glance at Samir beside him.
"Romanian-made AKMs..."
He couldn't help but mutter to himself.
You should know that in present-day Illiguo, most people recruiting local rcenaries can't afford to buy AKM assault rifles, mostly buying the older AK47s, which are far cheaper.
Samir obviously noticed as well, and his heart couldn't help but warm up; he had followed the right person.
He swore he would stick with Song Heping.
At least this man was worth risking his life for.
Since Illiguo had been invaded by the coalition forces, there were not many people who took the locals seriously.
In Song Heping's company, Samir felt respected.
"Are you recruiting?"
Suddenly, a voice ca from the side.
Song Heping turned around, and his heart imdiately cursed silently.
Two towering fellows were standing right in front of him.
"Damn!"
Song Heping himself was 1.8 ters tall.
But in front of these two, he suddenly felt like a little dwarf.
They were not even smaller in stature compared to White Bear.
One had a typical Eastern European face, and the other was obviously from the Caucasus, with a full beard, exuding an oppressive aura.
"You are?"
"The two of us…" the one with the Eastern European face said, "My na is Guy Sajie, and this is my friend, Doka Umarov. We heard that you're recruiting, right?"
Song Heping said, "Yes, we are recruiting, but we're looking for core team mbers, and they must have a service history with relevant units."
"Yes." Guy said, "I'm from the Foreign Legion Paratroopers; served for ten years, and my specialty is a sniper."
Foreign Legion Paratroopers?
Seems alright.
Seeing Song Heping's gaze shift to Big Beard, Guy quickly said, "This is my friend from the Caucasus; he also served in the Special Forces for five years."
Caucasus Special Forces?
Song Heping understood.
Based on their histories alone, there was absolutely no problem.
But Song Heping had an additional sense of caution.
Such high-quality rcenaries, and they hadn't been signed by a big company?
Could such good luck really fall into his lap?
"Okay, you two follow back to the company later. I'm not in charge of recruitnt; our boss needs to take a look first."
Song Heping decided to leave the decision to the chef.
After all, they had a division of labor.
He was in charge of military matters, while the chef handled business.
"Chef?"
Song Heping was always efficient with his work, imdiately taking out his phone to call the chef.
"I'm at Harvey's inspecting weapons and I've co across two elite rcenaries, one from the Foreign Legion Paratroopers, the other from the Caucasus Special Forces."
"Caucasus Special Forces?" There was a hint of sothing unusual in the chef's voice.
"Yes, do you want them? If you do, I'll bring them back right away!"
"Yes, yes, yes!"
The chef quickly agreed.
This was a ti when every hand was needed.
Who cared about the Caucasus Special Forces?
Yes!
Song Heping instructed Samir to start checking the equipnt with Harvey here, and he hurriedly drove the Nissan SUV to bring the two n back to the camp.
When the three n got out of the vehicle, the chef and everybody else were already waiting on the open space in front of the container house.
When they saw Song Heping, everyone was smiling.
When they saw Guy, everyone's eyes lit up.
But when they saw Umarov, everyone's expression changed dramatically, and they all exclaid in unison—
"Disaster Star!"
User Comments
0 comments from readers