Mercenaries, I Will Be King Chapter 880 - 818: Provocation and Bribery

Ten minutes later, on the dirt road to Northern Darfur.

Klein adjusted the fake beard in the SUV's rearview mirror.

His face was sculpted with special makeup into the silhouette of "Shepherd," with a similarly cloudy contact lens over his left eye.

In the back seat, Song Heping was holding a radio transceiver, instructing all the crew.

"Rember, you are now bodyguards hired by the 'Shepherd,' and I am the leader."

Song Heping said fluently in Arabic: "Your background is rcenaries from the EO company. No need to say much, just follow the VIP escort training you received and be a qualified bodyguard."

"Understood, boss."

"Not boss, what did I say?"

"Understood, chief!"

"Hmm, that's more like it."

The convoy kicked up a cloud of dust, heading towards the area controlled by Hakeem's ard organization.

Before entering the control zone, the convoy stopped, Collins got out with a rcenary and threw out a "Big Crow" drone, then quickly returned to the vehicle.

The convoy moved forward again, heading towards the eting point at the abandoned outpost.

This ti, the eting with Hakeem was arranged near a forr governnt army outpost.

Since the Sudanese civil war, the governnt army withdrew from this war-torn area, leaving so troops stationed, with many outposts abandoned.

Now this area has beco part of Hakeem's "Justice and Peace" ard organization's territory, and the gold mine is located about 45 kiloters southwest of this outpost, it's the gateway to Hakeem's territory, also a heavily fortified area of the ard organization.

Arranging the eting point here was clearly a requirent proposed by Hakeem. After all, entering Hakeem's controlled area from this place involves passing through a sand mountain area, a perfect spot for an ambush, making it easier for Hakeem's n to control the situation on site.

Twenty minutes later.

Drone images showed at least thirty ard n ambushed on the slopes around the abandoned outpost, but all were outside the agreed neutral zone.

Disguised as "Shepherd," Klein touched the Glock 19 pistol hidden under his robe, recalling the Shepherd's plea during the final monts of interrogation.

In this lawless battlefield, morality is a luxury, survival is the hard truth.

Tonight's eting was supposedly agreed, but no one could predict how Hakeem would react; if things went sour, a gunfight might really happen.

In the rearview mirror, Song Heping was checking the magazine.

Noticing Klein looking at him, he encouraged, "Don't worry, stick to what we discussed. The goal is to provoke a war between him and Markuer, stay calm. We at least represent the Aricans in this negotiation, and as long as we don't anger them, conflict will not occur. Rember, money and weapons are easy to talk about, they only recognize money and weapons."

"Got it." Klein suddenly asked out of curiosity, "Boss, why don't you impersonate the 'Shepherd' yourself?"

"I'm Asian. Although Hakeem hasn't seen the 'Shepherd,' if I pretend to be him, he would be more suspicious."

"Oh..."

Klein nodded silently.

"Makes sense..."

"The outpost is ahead."

The driver reminded in a low voice.

Klein took a deep breath, putting on the 'Shepherd's' distinctive gold tooth set.

Showti.

The dirt-yellow walls of the abandoned outpost glowed with a strange white light under the moon.

Through the car window, Klein counted the bullet holes on the walls—seventeen, perhaps more. These scars left by war silently told the brutality of this land.

"Rember, slow your breathing."

Song Heping reminded quietly in the back seat.

"Hakeem is a cunning fox; he'll probe you, and any subtle tense signs will be detected by him."

Klein nodded slightly, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the Glock 19 hidden under his robe.

The car's air conditioning was on full blast, yet his back was still drenched with sweat.

Though he was a seasoned veteran, this was his first ti impersonating soone else.

This was ticulous work, not face-to-face combat—a slight mistake could collapse the entire plan.

And this was enemy territory.

If exposed, it would be a deadly fight, with serious consequences.

The convoy ca to a stop in the open space in front of the outpost.

Six ard pickups spread out in a fan shape, their heavy machine guns intentionally or unintentionally aid towards the outpost.

Song Heping's n quickly got out, the EO company logo on their tactical vests standing out in the sunlight.

They ford a defensive formation, their movents crisp and precise, perfectly embodying the professionalism of a rcenary.

"Showti."

Klein took a deep breath and pushed the car door open.

The cold wind in the wilderness, mixed with sand, imdiately hit his face. Instinctively, he raised his hand to shield himself, rembering that the 'Shepherd' wouldn't do that. The intel ntioned he liked the desert winds with fine sand, like 'Allah's breath of anger.'

The outpost gate slowly opened.

Eight fully ard soldiers erged first, their automatic rifles pointed diagonally to the ground, fingers tight on the triggers.

Following them was a tall figure in a white robe—Hakeem Al Fadil himself.

He appeared more imposing than in photos, the scar between his dense black beard stretching from his right eye angle to his chin, like a nacing centipede.

This guy didn't seem like any good, brutality was written all over his face.

In Africa's war-torn regions, such people thrive and find a market.

"May Allah bless you, my friend."

Hakeem spread his arms, his voice sonorous like a bell, yet his hawk-like eyes coldly scrutinized Klein, as if scanning him like an X-ray.