Two nights later.
On the desert road heading to the Chad border
Two modified Toyota pickups sped through the moonlight, kicking up long trails of sand and dust behind them. Song Heping sat in the front seat of the lead vehicle, inspecting the HK416 rifle in his hands.
In the back seat, Jiang Feng was tuning a portable electronic jamr.
"According to Simon's intel, the leader of 'Desert Scorpion' is nad Abdul, a forr Libyan Special Forces officer. It's said that his ard organization secretly receives support from Gaddafi, making it one of the more powerful forces in the Sahel region."
"I thought Gaddafi and the Aricans were arch-enemies?" Jiang Feng was surprised. "Why would the US Army provide him with missile systems?"
"Interests."
Song Heping sneered: "Sotis the enemies you think are enemies are actually partners behind the scenes under certain circumstances. The Aricans need ard organizations here to create terrorist attacks, especially attacks on the British and French forces deployed here, so they have an excuse to infiltrate their power under the guise of counter-terrorism. So, I suspect Peter and the others also know that Abdul is backed by Gaddafi, but who cares? Even if they know, they'll pretend not to know. Besides, the weapons are sold here through arms dealers; as long as chaos ensues, that's enough for them."
Jiang Feng was silent for a mont before he spoke again: "If we ss with him, won't Gaddafi be unhappy?"
Song Heping said, "Who cares! We've taken on a job from the Sudan Governnt, to control the oil fields and mines in Northern Darfur. Sooner or later, we'll clash with them."
Jiang Feng suddenly frowned, "Gaddafi's family isn't short of oil, so why covet others'?"
"He's not after the oil." Song Heping said, "He has ambitions, wants to be the boss. Supporting forr special forces officers under his command to establish ard organizations in the Sahel region is just a way to get a foothold here and vie for power. Henry talked to about the situation here..."
As he spoke, Song Heping looked out the car window.
The vast gobi desert, the moon hanging in a sky so clear it seed transparent.
He sighed, "The chaos in the Sahel region probably won't be resolved in several decades or even a hundred years."
Song Heping suddenly rembered the villagers he'd escorted, fleeing to Ethiopia because of war.
Better to be a dog in tis of peace than a human in tis of chaos.
The ancestors truly weren't wrong with these words.
Song Heping took out a tablet and pulled up a photo of Abdul, tapping it with his finger.
"This guy has a quirk; he only trusts cash and gold transactions."
Jiang Feng continued fiddling with the jamr, letting out a humph, "Cash? Gold? Doesn't he understand the principle of not showing off wealth? In Africa, people like that usually don't live past thirty."
"He's forty-two." Song Heping chuckled as he put away the tablet, "So we need to be cautious, for him to live this long, he's likely a careful man. Turn right in five kiloters, enter the dry riverbed. Their camp should be at the end of the valley at an abandoned oil field."
The vehicles slowed as they drove off the road, tires crunching over gravel.
Song Heping pressed his earpiece, "Car two, attention, follow Plan B. Report imdiately if you find missiles."
In the distance, so faint lights marked the ard militants' camp.
Song Heping gestured to stop the car and took a black tal box from his backpack, "Our ticket."
Jiang Feng opened the box, where twenty small gold bars were neatly arranged, glistening temptingly in the moonlight.
Fifteen minutes later, at the "Desert Scorpion" camp.
Abdul was a lean middle-aged man with a scar over his left eye, making him look like he was always squinting to size people up.
He sat on a Persian carpet in the center of the tent, surrounded by four ard bodyguards.
"Arican?" He suspiciously flipped through the forged docunts Song Heping had presented, "Why buy Soviet-made missiles?"
It was no wonder he was suspicious.
After all, he knew exactly where these missile systems had co from.
Obtained from Arican arms dealers, and then sold back to Aricans...
Song Heping smiled and answered fluently in Arabic, "Client preference. They like weapons traceable to their source — that way, if there's a problem, they can bla it on the Russians."
Abdul laughed, revealing a few gold teeth, "Smart! But how do I know you're not a British or French spy?"
Song Heping thought, truly a cautious guy.
Actually, Abdul was more concerned about whether Song Heping might be from the CIA.
Because having these pieces of equipnt reach his hands ca with conditions.
Conditions that 'Desert Scorpion' creates trouble for the French military in this area, and secretly buying and selling these SAM missile systems is basically betraying the Aricans.
If the Aricans sent soone to fish him out and he took the bait, that wouldn't do.
Song Heping calmly opened the tal box, took out a gold bar, and tossed it in front of Abdul, "The British and the French aren't as generous as . I'm just an arms dealer who knows you have good stuff, my clients happen to need it, so I'm willing to pay a big price to procure it. If you're not willing to sell, I can find soone else. Questioning my identity is as ridiculous as questioning the authenticity of the gold bar in front of you."
Abdul stared at the gold bar, his greedy gaze slowly brimming over.
In the end, he couldn't resist picking up the gold bar, biting it, and then examining its color, showing a satisfied smile, "Not bad, real deal, pure gold. Alright, co with ."
With that, he stood up and waved at the guards beside him.
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