At exactly midnight, Song Heping raised his hand to check the luminous dial and gestured to Henry behind him.
Twenty rcenaries quickly extinguished all light sources in the camp, like ghosts swallowed by the night.
"Proceed according to the original plan." Song Heping's voice was exceptionally clear in the communicator, "Group A leads, Group B covers the rear, maintain radio silence."
The convoy's engines emitted a low growl, the sound of tires skimming over the sand deliberately kept to a minimum. But unexpectedly, the convoy didn't head west as planned, instead, it suddenly turned north.
Becker gripped the steering wheel tightly and couldn't help but whisper through his headset, "Boss, aren't we supposed to head towards Northern Darfur?"
"The plan has changed." Song Heping's response was brief and firm, "Soone is waiting for us there."
The convoy, like a black serpent, silently slipped into the wilderness of Northern Darfur.
Song Heping sat in the passenger seat of the second vehicle, his eyes fixed on the thermal imaging display. He knew that at this mont, soone was watching them, and what he needed to do was catch those watchers off guard.
Ten minutes later, at CIA Langley Headquarters.
Song Heping led a 20-man team to depart on ti.
But this ti, they were not heading to the original destination in Northern Darfur; instead, they suddenly turned north towards Dongola.
Their sudden route change heading north was quickly detected by the CIA, and the information was relayed to Langley Headquarters, causing imdiate commotion.
A duty agent hurriedly knocked on Pence's office door, waking the deputy director Pence, who was resting in the office preparing to personally command the predawn hunt.
"Sir! There's a problem!"
"What problem!?"
Pence rubbed his crusty eyes vigorously and reached for the briefing.
After skimming through the content, his face changed dramatically.
"Contact London and Mossad imdiately, convene a conference call at once."
Ten minutes later, Pence sat at his desk, and as with previous video etings, Lady M and Mossad Director Levin appeared on the screen in front of him.
The three engaged in a heated debate on how to respond to Song Heping's sudden maneuver.
"Damn it! How could he suddenly change his route?"
Pence stared at the live feed sent back by satellite, Song Heping's convoy moving north at an astonishing speed.
"Didn't our intelligence say they would at least rest until noon tomorrow?"
Lady M looked at the slightly agitated Pence with an expressionless face, her gray-blue eyes flickering with a calm light.
She spoke with a hint of sarcasm in her cold voice, "Obviously, your intelligence was incorrect, Mr. Pence. Or more accurately—"
She sighed aningfully, "Soone on your end likely leaked the information."
Director Levin of Mossad sneered, "I said from the start we should have directly airstriked their camp. Now look, the prey is heading back to Khartoum."
"Escape? I don't think so!" Pence sharply turned, "Song Heping never runs. I'm sure it's a trap!"
The air beca instantly tense.
Lady M was the first to break the silence, "Even if it is a trap, we must act. Miss this chance, and it will be hard to pinpoint the 'Musician's location again."
She pointed on the electronic map with her hand, her slender fingers gliding across the screen.
"The northern route passes through this canyon. If we let the Green Beret Team set an ambush here..."
"Too risky!" Pence interrupted her, "We originally planned to use two Green Beret teams and a Delta Squad for a joint attack. Although the Green Berets are in position now, Delta is coming from the Sahel Region and needs at least two more hours to arrive."
Director Levin suddenly interjected, "We have three 'Hers' drones above the target for real-ti monitoring. Two Green Beret teams, 24 n, against 20 rcenaries should be enough to hold them until Delta's reinforcents arrive."
"This plan seems feasible..."
Pence rubbed his chin, weighing Levin's words in his mind.
Two Green Beret Teams, 24 n, versus his 20 rcenaries.
No matter how formidable Song Heping is, he could at best adopt a defensive stance, unable to break free.
Waiting for Delta's support shouldn't be an issue.
"Well then..."
Just as he was about to decide in favor of Levin's suggestion, there was another urgent knock at the door.
"Enter."
The door opened, and Carl, the tech supervisor, swept in like a whirlwind.
His face was pale.
"Sir, one of our drone signals is being jamd!"
Pence turned to the screen on the other wall, where several drone feeds were displayed in sync.
The green icon representing Drone 3 flickered continuously, with the transmitted images intermittently disrupted.
"They're using jamming devices..." Pence's voice beca low, "Song Heping knows we're watching him."
On the screen, Lady M sneered, "It seems, Mr. Pence, you guessed wrong; he really wants to escape."
"We can't wait any longer!"
Pence imdiately ordered, "I now order the Green Beret Team to act right away!"
Ten minutes later, sixty kiloters west of the Chad border.
Three military command posts camouflaged as geological survey tents had just been set up.
Inside the central tent, Ethan, the head of the CIA's Africa counterterrorism operations departnt, threw down the satellite phone and punched the hastily assembled tal table, knocking over half a cup of coffee.
"FUCK! The rabbit is trying to escape! He realized we were tracking and monitoring him!"
He turned to his assistant, "Quick! Get the Green Berets out now to intercept Song Hepin's convoy!"
The order was sent out promptly.
12:40am.
Near the road north to Dongola from Northern Darfur, Marcus Lane, the leader of Green Beret Team A, crouched behind a weathered rock, eyes fixed forward in the darkness through his night vision goggles.
Broken instructions ca through his earpiece from command headquarters.
"... Target changed route... moving north... proceed imdiately to... coordinates..."
"Repeat, poor communication!" Marcus tapped his earpiece, but the static only increased. He turned to his team behind him, "Damn sandstorm is coming, communication's getting worse. Command issued orders to change our interception point."
Team B leader Jackson stooped over, casting short flashes of light on the sand with his tactical flashlight, "My GPS is also jamd. Song Heping is no ordinary target; he must have planned ahead."
Marcus unfolded a waterproof map and examined it in low light mode with his flashlight, "If they're heading north, they must pass through 'Ghost Canyon.' We'll take a shortcut and set an ambush ahead of them."
"But our signal is fluctuating now, seems like our communication with front-line command isn't stable. Should we check what's causing the malfunction?"
"Is there an issue with the satellite antenna?!"
"No."
"The radio?"
"It's fine too, I've checked everything; our communications equipnt is all fine."
"Then what's going on?!"
"I suspect..."
Jack hesitated a bit.
"Is there a problem with the forward command?"
"No ti to ponder, the rabbit will escape! We'll start moving! Fix communication issues as we go."
"OK!"
Both teams quickly packed their gear.
The navigation lights of drones could barely be seen flickering in the night sky, but the signals were too weak to provide effective intelligence.
Soldiers silently checked their weapons; the magazine of an M4A1 rifle emitted a soft tallic clink in the dark.
"Rember," Marcus warned quietly before setting out, "Our mission is to pin them down, not eliminate. Wait for the Delta guys to trap them."
Twenty-four special soldiers vanished like lizards in the desert into the night.
Unbeknownst to them, Song Heping's convoy suddenly stopped on a dune thirty kiloters away.
Simultaneously, at the illuminated joint front-line command camp in the direction of Belodoba, Chad, the tents were ablaze with lights.
According to official Chad information, this was a wildlife research team studying animal migration patterns, filming various footage to docunt migration routes.
Nothing military-related, apparently.
But the towering satellite antennas and small satellite dishes revealed it was no ordinary scientific expedition.
A staff mber was adjusting the final satellite link terminal equipnt, with wolf howls, chilling in the Chad wilderness all around.
He rapidly adjusted the paraters on the circuit board and installed them swiftly, eager to return to the tent.
After all, in the outdoors, as a re technician, it's not sothing to be happy about.
Suddenly, he heard a strange noise in the air.
Ssss——
"Hmm?"
He lifted his head, looking in the direction of the noise curiously.
"Mortar attack!"
Shouts erupted from the camp's guards.
"Hide!"
Boom——
Simultaneously, the sound and mortar shells hit the ground.
Bam——
The unfortunate technician was blown off his feet, thrown into the air before crashing heavily into a tent, dying on the spot.
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