"Song Heping is missing!"
Rees handed over a briefing.
Pence grabbed the briefing as if a starving person snatched life-saving food, appearing sowhat out of control.
"Missing?! What do you an?"
He murmured while opening the briefing.
Inside were so images, clearly aerial photos taken by drones.
There were also several satellite images.
Judging by the terrain, it was obviously the small town of Cindy near the Chad border in Northern Darfur.
Pence was very familiar with this place.
Ever since he wanted to reorganize forces to launch another strike on Song Heping, the map of Sudan, especially the terrain map around Cindy Town, had been on his desk.
The border area between Northern Darfur and Chad was where the desert and highlands intersected, whereas it was flat near Cindy Town.
The situation there is very unstable now, and neither Northern Sudan nor South Sudan can truly claim complete control over the area. Several ard organizations have erged locally, disregarding both sides and only seizing mineral resources and oil fields.
Thus, it's considered a no-man's-land.
The Northern Sudan governnt reached an agreent with Song Heping to provide asylum, sending him there and giving him a piece of land, which was actually lending flowers to Buddha.
Although the place nominally belonged to the Sudan Governnt, it wasn't a region controlled by Northern Sudan's army.
Song Heping's visit there was essentially serving as a rcenary for the Northern Sudan governnt to stabilize the local situation.
Cindy Town's location is very strategic. Controlling it ans guarding the border line with Chad, since the south is rebel territory, the north is the border with Libya, making it a pivotal point where three forces converge, serving both economic purposes by controlling the routes for oil and mineral exports and military purposes by managing the channel for South Sudan rebels advancing northward – a win-win situation.
After seeing the map, Pence felt the Sudanese's calculations hit him right in the face.
Now his subordinate ca to tell him that Song Heping isn't in Cindy Town at all.
"During our preliminary reconnaissance for the 'Blood Feud' operation, we found that there wasn't any rcenary base near Cindy Town, nor did any ard forces deploy in that area. Initially, we thought Song Heping might still be preparing to arrive at Cindy Town, but after monitoring for three days without any movent, even our internal sources in Northern Sudan reported that Song Heping hadn't returned to Khartoum and is still in Northern Darfur, albeit at an unclear location."
Rees's answer seed very helpless.
"What a load of crap!"
Pence slamd the briefing onto the table, and the paper scattered.
His knuckles turned white from exertion, and veins bulged on his temples.
"Seventy-two hours! I gave you all seventy-two hours!"
He turned to Jasper standing by, his voice as abrasive as sandpaper scraping.
"And now you tell the target disappeared?"
Jasper gulped: "Sir, our intelligence indicates Song Heping was indeed tasked by the Northern Sudan governnt to go to Cindy Town, and our analysts concluded that it is indeed the most reasonable deploynt site—"
"Reasonable?"
Pence suddenly grabbed the coffee mug on the table and threw it against the wall, shattering porcelain and splattering coffee stains on the white wall.
"I don't want you goddamn morons giving geography lessons on military topography, telling if Cindy Town is a reasonable deploynt point! I want Song Heping's corpse!"
Pence's loss of control plunged the office into silence.
The vast space echoed only Pence's heavy breathing.
Monts later, he adjusted his tie, reined in his emotions, his voice becoming chillingly calm: "Listen, mobilize all resources imdiately. Northern Sudan's informants, satellite coverage, electronic surveillance, drone reconnaissance — I want to know within twenty-four hours where that bastard is hiding in this desert."
Jasper and Rees nodded, prepared to leave, but were stopped by Pence: "Also, contact our friends at Mossad. Tell them the 'Blood Feud' operation requires their 'Bird' satellite cluster support."
"Sir, that requires director's approval—"
Pence flashed a sinister grin: "The director is more concerned about his political future now. Go, Jasper. Do not disappoint ."
While Pence erupted at his subordinates in Langley Headquarters back in the United States, Song Heping crouched under a tree at the Atlon Oasis temporary camp in Northern Darfur, pointing at a highland east of the Atlon Oasis with the tip of his dagger: "This place is ideal for an anti-aircraft position, with a 360-degree view to detect incoming drones at the first mont."
Jiang Feng frowned, smiled bitterly: "Old boss, the problem is we don't even have a decent anti-aircraft machine gun. What will we use to fend off the drones?"
"Hmm..."
Song Heping sighed.
"That's indeed a problem you brought up."
He squinted his eyes, gazing into the distance, seemingly aimlessly.
Outside the camp, the desert's hot wind whipped sand against the canvas tent, creating a soft sound.
"It seems we need so help."
Song Heping got up and walked to the communication device, picked up the satellite phone, and dialed a number from mory.
It took a long ti before the call connected.
The other party was silent for three seconds, then spoke in a deliberately lowered voice: "Are you insane? Calling again in broad daylight! I told you to ssage before calling so I could find a safe place to answer!"
"You spend your days in your office, and besides, I know about your CIA informant system. You're allowed to develop secret subordinates independently without reporting to superiors, so consider one of your informants."
Song Heping's words almost made Simon explode.
"FUCK! You're my informant?! You have so nerve!"
"Alright, Simon, now isn't the ti to throw a tantrum. I said if you cooperate with , I will compensate you. Right now, I really need your help."
Simon took a while to calm his heavy breathing: "Speak up, what do you want to do this ti! You know, headquarters has started an investigation into the last operation failure; they're suspecting soone leaked operation details! I'm in hot water myself."
"Relax, leave it to , I'll clear your suspicion, it's a small matter!"
"You're full of it!"
"Full of it?! You forgot we crossed paths before, do you doubt my capabilities?"
Simon was rendered speechless.
Monts later, he asked, "Tell , what do you want this ti?"
Song Heping was straightforward: "The whereabouts of SAM missiles. Sahel Region, preferably within Sudan. I know you've been watching Peter, keeping an eye on military transactions over here; you certainly have dirt."
"FUCK! You're digging into Peter's business too?!" Simon sneered: "In your eyes, I bet there's no such thing as friendship!"
"Friendship?"
Now it was Song Heping's turn to sneer.
"When have we ever been friends? We're just partners benefiting from mutual exploitation, that's all. So, give the intel, then I'll help you clear your suspicion and avoid internal investigation. Then, your wife, who loves buying luxury handbags, will suddenly receive an advisory contract from an overseas trade company, paying handsoly without requiring any professional skills... A very lucrative kind."
Simon ground his molars, realizing he was tightly controlled by Song Heping.
"I'll send it to you tonight, I need so ti."
"Alright, I trust your work." Song Heping smiled: "Then I'll await good news. Goodbye."
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