"SIR, this is the reconnaissance report on the Atlon Oasis from the past three days. All the detailed information is inside. Through these days of reconnaissance, we have indeed found Song Heping at the base, residing in a green tent in the northwest corner of the camp. We have conducted facial recognition no less than ten tis and confird it is him."
On the fourth morning, Jasper knocked again on Deputy Director Pence's office door, handing over a very detailed reconnaissance summary report, which included pictures and complete ti records.
Having gone through more than twenty pages of the report, Pence's brows never relaxed, remaining tightly furrowed.
"Do you think..."
Five full minutes after finishing the report, Pence finally spoke.
"Does Song Heping know we're monitoring him?"
At these words, Jasper was taken aback.
"This..."
He couldn't be sure.
Suddenly, it seed absurd.
It's known that the MQ-9 UAV was conducting secret reconnaissance at an altitude of seven to eight kiloters, and unless radar was used on the ground, it could not be detected.
By eyesight alone, one cannot perceive a UAV flying overhead.
"He probably doesn't know..."
Jasper felt Pence was overly cautious and had developed so fear of Song Heping.
"Their camp doesn't have radar, just infantry, there's no way they know we're monitoring his camp."
"Hmm..."
Pence's hand brushed gently over his lip as he scratched the area above the mouth, as if doing so helped him concentrate on thinking.
After a long ti, he pushed the report forward.
"Song Heping is not soone so careless. He knows we're hunting him; logically, he wouldn't blatantly appear in an open area without cover. Last ti in Mogadishu, he knew how to distract us and evade our UAV attack. How could he not be on guard this ti?"
At this point, he paused for a while and continued, "Simon was right. It could very well be a trap."
ntioning Simon caused discomfort in Jasper's heart.
Wasn't the director questioning his ability?
These days, he worked tirelessly to complete the attack plan.
Yet now, the director's one word "trap" nullified his efforts and validated Simon?
"SIR, regardless of whether it's a trap, the fact is he's in the camp. We have repeatedly verified through technical ans countless tis, taken hundreds of facial feature pictures, even virtually matched his physique and bones with software, confirming accuracy above 99%. Trap or not, a missile strike, and I refuse to believe he can catch it with his bare hands."
Jasper was eager to launch actions imdiately.
Having co this far, how could he stop now?
"Let's remain cautious..."
Pence made the final decision.
"Continue surveillance for three more days, keeping a closer watch. If it is a trap, anomalies will appear, and flaws will be revealed."
"Alright..."
Jasper felt sowhat disappointed, the fervent light in his eyes dimming.
"Wait."
Pence called out to Jasper, who was preparing to leave.
"SIR, is there an order?"
In Jasper's eyes, a fla of hope reignited.
He thought Pence was going to change his mind.
"Conduct a detailed reconnaissance around the Atlon Oasis camp to see if anything can be discovered."
"Alright..."
Jasper's heart sank back into the depths.
As Jasper left Pence's office, muttering to himself along the way, Song Heping, far away at the Atlon Oasis in Northern Darfur, was scratching his head.
The fourth day.
Until today, reports from various air defense hiding points said a UAV was circling in the sky as usual. From its flight path, it seed to be on a reconnaissance mission, not an attack mission.
Song Heping was puzzled when he received the report.
It was the fourth day.
Based on his calculation of the CIA, today was the day for the attack.
Why?
Still reconnaissance?
"Old squad leader, didn't you get the ti wrong this ti?"
Jiang Feng joked with so schadenfreude.
Song Heping making mistakes was rare.
This ti it seems he was in a predicant.
"Won't be wrong..."
Song Heping recalled his past instructions to Simon.
Told him to find the right chance to leak his whereabouts to Pence.
Simon leaked his position four days ago, then the UAV appeared overhead.
The timing was precise.
Indicating Simon timing was spot on.
But the UAV's been flying in the sky for three whole days.
Today is the fourth day, still just one.
Altitude remains over seven kiloters.
Indicating it's a reconnaissance UAV like before, not an ard attack UAV.
And attack missions require two UAVs.
Ensure one can cover for the other's mistake.
But just one...
"No sense..."
Song Heping couldn't help but look up at the sky.
The visibility was excellent.
The sky was a deep, deep blue, like a huge piece of blue glass.
With weather like this, attacking would be a heaven-sent opportunity.
Damn it!
He silently cursed in his heart.
Co on!
Pence, you old rascal.
I'm really right here!
But now I've gotten myself into a difficult situation.
If the other side continues their surveillance, I'll be at a disadvantage.
Firstly, there's the issue of food, water, and sanitation for the soldiers hidden in the missile camp.
To avoid exposing the target, Song Heping had ordered them to hide in the covert point without moving a step.
Because if they leave, it would be detected by the drones as a sign of activity.
Once there's any trace on the ground, the drone will focus its surveillance on that spot.
At that ti the camp would be at risk of exposure.
Secondly, I'm also trapped here now.
Technically, I could bait them into making a move; if I leave the base, the drone will follow , and Langley will get the latest news of leaving Atlon Oasis.
They might be worried about losing track of and be forced to take imdiate action.
But leaving the camp is surely a dead end.
Without the four SAM-6 missile launcher systems around this camp, my life would be over.
Thinking of this, Song Heping broke into a cold sweat.
When planning the trap, I was still too confident.
I believed the CIA would launch an attack within four days after discovering at Atlon Oasis.
Now it seems my ti calculation was wrong.
Pence is really patient, suppressing his desire to take out; it's the fourth day and still no attack.
If this surveillance drags on for seven or eight days, wouldn't it be ga over?
The food and water with the soldiers in the covert point can only last a week.
Beyond that point, soone must deliver supplies there.
The drones are definitely watching from the sky 24 hours a day.
If soone delivers to the covert camp, it will draw attention…
At that mont…
My plan is definitely dood.
The situation dragged on to the evening of the fifth day.
Now it's Song Heping's turn to be sowhat anxious.
Five days!
Still just one drone, still the sa, hovering 7000 ters overhead 24/7.
One drone returns, another takes over, never leaving a gap.
"Boss, why not try to shoot down their reconnaissance drone now?"
White Bear spoke with an agitated, restless look: "We've been waiting here like death row inmates waiting for execution; I'd rather launch a missile to attack them directly."
"The success rate of an attack right now is no more than 30%, would you dare to gamble?"
The campfire burned brightly before them, oil sizzled from the lamb on the rack, the flatbread hung on one side had roasted to an enticing fragrance.
Song Heping poked at the fire with a stick, the flas lighting up his face.
"We can only wait. We've all joined the ga now, like sitting at a poker table, with a few cards dealt and a pile of chips followed; if we get up and leave now, it ans we've lost everything."
Jiang Feng glanced at the night sky and said: "But waiting like this can't be the solution either..."
He glanced in the direction of the missile camp.
"It's the fifth night, I recall the camp's food and water won't last beyond seven days; if no attack drone shows in the next two days, the camp would certainly be exposed."
"Do you think I don't know?"
Song Heping sighed deeply.
"Now both you and I are unable to leave; we've sat at the poker table, it's either win or die, take your pick."
Jiang Feng fell silent.
His old squad leader's words were brutally realistic.
This was a gamble of wits and courage against a top intelligence agency's operational team.
Win, and there'd be celebratory drinks.
Lose, and it's a farewell party.
In fact, Song Heping and Pence were both in a high-stakes gamble at the poker table.
Neither knew the other's hand and both wanted to see the other's cards.
But at the current card table, Pence had the advantage; he was calling the shots.
The control over the situation was in the hands of the CIA.
By the sixth day, this was especially true.
Pence's side didn't seem to be in a hurry to act; still just one drone, still at 7000 ters, typical reconnaissance mission height.
That day, Song Heping found even his als tasteless.
By evening, when they gathered again for dinner, everyone appeared very silent, lacking their usual jovial banter.
Everyone's faces were solemn, occasionally casting glances at Song Heping, seemingly waiting for him to make a decision—
What should we do next?
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