14:00 Tel Aviv ti.
The air in the Mossad underground command center was filled with the bitter aroma of iced Arican coffee.
Yager projected satellite photos onto the bullet-proof glass wall; the infrared imaging showed four orange-red human figures moving along the coastline.
"The Diamond Corridor width is 11.3 kiloters."
The tactical analyst tapped on the holographic sand table, imdiately lighting up seven red paths on the 3D terrain map.
"Recomnd activating the 'Scorpion Tail' protocol."
"Agreed."
Yager stroked the icy barrel of the HK416 placed next to him on the table. The gun's rail was equipped with the latest AN/PEQ-15 laser indicator.
He recalled the order transmitted via the encrypted channel twenty hours ago—sent personally by the CIA Deputy Director Pence, with only one sentence: "Complete elimination, leave no traces."
The Mig-29 indeed shot down the An-148 passenger plane.
Normally, no one would survive.
But subsequent surveillance photos revealed that although the plane was severely damaged, it successfully made an ergency landing on the sea near the Sinai Peninsula. Heat scans detected that indeed soone was alive!
After a night of tracking, the CIA shared the latest satellite surveillance images, so of which startled Yager so much that he spilled his coffee.
He clearly saw Song Heping and three others sitting on a huge supplies pack; one of the pictures showed Song Heping looking up, as if anticipating the surveillance by CIA spy satellites.
"He didn't die!"
This sentence squeezed out from between his teeth, every letter filled with a murderous hatred.
"What on earth is this guy made of, that he can't be killed?!"
A person's tenacity to this degree is beyond just military and physical endurance; according to religious beliefs, it would imply divine favor.
This didn't make Yager feel awe, but rather intense jealousy; his urge to eliminate Song Heping grew even stronger.
"I won't believe I can't take him down!"
Fifteen minutes later, the sandstorm whipped up by the rotors of two Black Hawk helicopters obscured the sky of the west bank of the Suez Canal.
Four agents wearing AM-95 sandstorm masks sat inside each helicopter cabin; their combat uniforms lined with miniature cooling chips—a latest technology for desert warfare.
According to the plan, three Black Hawks were to fly along the coastline near the Jiasa region, sneaking into the Sinai Peninsula.
The Sinai Peninsula is a sensitive area.
It used to be contested by the Daishe Bird and Egyptians, witnessing two wars that shook the world.
Eventually, the Daishe Bird successfully occupied the Sinai Peninsula but chose to return it to Egypt to crush the Arab League.
So far, most of its areas are economically underdeveloped, largely designated as military-controlled zones with stretches of desert.
Apart from smugglers, no one likes to operate there.
As the Mossad tactical unit set out for the Sinai Peninsula, on the beach near the Alish Desert, under a patch of tree shade, Song Heping pulled out his ergency kit, tore open a packet of glucose water, and brought it to Sara's side.
"Jiang Feng, make a freshwater collector; we need fresh water."
"Okay, I'll do it."
The seaside is abundant with saltwater, but freshwater is precious.
The group had been thirsty overnight and urgently needed to replenish with fresh water.
Luckily, so freshwater could be obtained through the distillation thod.
Jiang Feng was a professional; he knew what to do.
Antonov dragged over a roll of tent and threw it by the edge of the woodland.
"If we're to cross the 'Diamond Corridor', we'll have to traverse a long stretch of desert. I think this will be useful."
"Of course it's useful…"
Song Heping understood that crossing the desert with a tent versus without one were entirely different scenarios.
If you don't want to be roasted alive, you better have a tent.
Rolling this thing up, with three people taking turns to drag it, wouldn't be too much trouble; the tent itself wasn't heavy and was of good quality.
"How's the woman doing?"
Antonov glanced at the already exhausted Sara.
"Song, I'm not trying to sound pessimistic, but in our current state, dragging a tent and having a woman with us will make crossing the 'Diamond Corridor' incredibly difficult…"
The term "Diamond Corridor" was a nickna.
It actually refers to a smuggling route through the Sinai Peninsula into the Daishe Bird and Z East regions in Africa.
This route is known by few.
Over the years, it hasn't been renowned.
But those engaged in Africa and Z East smuggling are aware of it.
Initially, this route was used to smuggle African gold and diamonds. The diamond industry in the Daishe Bird Country is advanced, but many African blood diamonds need to exit Africa apart from the legitimate purchases by De Beers' agents throughout Africa. So diamonds can't be openly traded.
What kind of diamonds can't be openly traded?
Of course, those held by rebels, Western-labeled dictators, and extremist ard forces.
These diamonds can't be transacted out in the open, at least not in the politically correct Western countries; such dirty deals need to be laundered.
How do they get laundered?
Of course, by smuggling.
Transporting them from Africa through the "Diamond Corridor" to the Daishe Bird Country for initial processing, then shifting them to Europe, thereby converting originally blood-stained goods into clean items. They end up in the inventory of major luxury and jewelry brands in Europe, becoming sought-after exhibits by dignitaries at jewelry fairs and high-end auctions.
Antonov suggested Song Heping and team head south through the "Diamond Corridor" to reach Egypt, which is the closest frontier.
As both sides of the Sinai Peninsula are bordered by the sea, heading north would plunge them into the war-torn Balistan, still an area controlled by the Daishe Bird.
So heading south was the only way.
It was their lone escape route.
If they encounter local residents en route, they might be able to secure so food and water, ensuring they don't die of thirst.
"I won't abandon my people."
Song Heping carefully poured the glucose liquid into Sara's mouth, pausing for a mont to look back at Antonov: "If you were in her place, I wouldn't abandon you either."
Antonov was stunned, then raised his thumb: "You're a true man!"
While tending to Sara, Song Heping asked Antonov, "Actually, you could go alone, why don't you?"
Antonov shook his head: "I'm not a great person. I wouldn't go alone because I'd have a slim chance of surviving the 'Diamond Corridor' by myself."
He pointed southwards.
"Why has the 'Diamond Corridor' remained uncontrollable for so many years? Because it's desolate, with no border army capable of controlling it."
"How do smugglers get through?" Song Heping asked.
Antonov said, "Ever heard of the Bedouins?"
"The ancient nomadic tribe?" Song Heping recalled that they were a typical nomadic tribe, active in North Africa and the Z East regions, without their own country, wandering through deserts, also known as 'Desert Elves'."
If anyone can survive in the desert, it's the Bedouins.
"That's right. Most of the smugglers are them." Antonov said, "But these guys are very aggressive; best not to encounter them. They don't like others seeing them."
"Hmm, our top priority is finding water and food," Song Heping said. "Let's hope for an oasis."
"Hope so… I haven't traveled this route myself, just often flown here and heard about it."
Antonov, looking casual, lay down under the shade, appearing quite carefree.
Song Heping appreciated this guy.
He remains calm in the face of adversity, showing an unflinching deanor, akin to the legendary stoicism during a disaster.
"Antonov, if we leave here alive, where do you plan to go? Back to the company?"
"Not going back." Antonov said, "Though it's not my fault, in our industry a crash is seen as a bad record, at least temporarily I'll be on leave for psychological adjustnt, suspended for a few months, with nurous assessnts. I don't have the patience; I'll find a new job, flying for another company."
"I'll offer you a job," Song Heping said.
Antonov turned to look at Song Heping: "You? You have an airline?"
His expression looked quite surprised.
Previously, he heard Song Heping was a PMC company boss but didn't know he had an airline.
"I don't have an airline, but my defense company has planes," Song Heping said. "Can you fly Mi-17 and Su-24?"
"Suka!" Antonov exclaid, "You have Su-24?!"
Song Heping nodded, "Yes, the planes are currently in South Arica. If you're willing, you could work there, helping carry out missions."
"What missions?" Antonov asked.
"First tell , can you fly Su-24?"
"Of course!" Antonov recalled his glorious days, "I was a top ace in the army. I left for family reasons, the Su-24 is simple, I can even fly Su-27."
Song Heping smiled, "In that case, join my company, I'll arrange a position for you, definitely higher pay than your airline job."
He paused then added, "But you might get involved in so wars."
"Wars?" Antonov's eyes not showing surprise but rather glowing with excitent: "You an combat? Bombing?!"
Song Heping nodded, "Yes."
He anticipated Antonov would demand higher pay or other conditions.
So he added, "The company offers family benefits; annually you can have your wife and children flown to Venezuela for a three-month vacation. We have a Special Soldier School with employee housing, decent conditions."
He hastened to elaborate the company's welfare benefits.
After all, it's a hazardous job; flying combat missions and carrying out tasks are entirely different from flying comrcial cargo, not even on the sa level.
"Excellent!"
Antonov imdiately sat up from the sandy ground.
"Pay is negotiable; I'm definitely in! Fighting? Aweso! I dream of using my skills!"
Seeing the exuberant Antonov, Song Heping's jaw dropped in amazent.
This guy...
Is a rare gem...
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