The afterglow of the sunset cast a golden hue on Song Heping's profile as he stared at the number displayed on his phone, his brow furrowed.
This was a number from Illiguo, but not one he recognized.
Who could it be?
"Who?"
Song Heping pressed the answer button, his voice low and guarded.
"It's ."
The raspy voice of Yusuf ca from the other end of the line, with the faint sound of radio static in the background.
"Sorry to disturb you, but it's urgent."
"Why did you call directly?"
To protect Yusuf, the mole he had placed inside the Illiguo Governnt, Song Heping had instructed not to contact him directly after falling out with the Aricans. All topics about arms deals were to be discussed on the Dark Web.
But today, Yusuf called him directly, a clear sign that sothing was wrong.
"What happened?"
Song Heping gestured for the Ferrari to stay quiet and walked to the corner of the lookout tower.
"Speak."
"For so reason, the CIA has suddenly tightened their surveillance, especially on and my friends in governnt."
Yusuf's voice lowered even further.
"The shipnt you asked for last ti, the transport routes are being monitored. We've had three shipnts intercepted at the border in the past two weeks."
Song Heping's fingers unconsciously tightened, the tal casing of the phone creaking slightly in his palm.
"Which specific route is the problem?"
"All routes."
Yusuf sighed.
"From the highway between Basra and Mosul, to the railway from Elbil to Turkey, even the newly developed desert route—they seem to suddenly know everything about our transportation networks."
Song Heping closed his eyes, quickly calculating in his mind.
Ten sets of SAM-9 missile systems, the deal he had made with the Northern Sudan governnt, was due for delivery in a month.
If he failed to deliver, not only would he lose millions in profit, but it would also shake his reputation and standing in the region.
Especially since Northern Sudan currently provides him with asylum.
A fallout would be troubleso.
Having just established a foothold here, he now faced such a daunting challenge.
He felt the urge to curse.
Damn the heavens, never letting him have a mont of peace; just settled in and now hit with a barrage of troubles.
"Could it be an internal leak?"
Song Heping asked, eyes scanning every corner of the mining area as if the enemy lurked in those shadows.
"I've checked, the core team is fine."
Yusuf's voice was tired.
"But I suspect they've implanted surveillance programs into our country's communications system, with Arican planes constantly flying overhead lately. I've heard they're called RC-135 electronic warfare planes..."
A scene flashed in Song Heping's mind—a black night sky, an RC-135 electronic reconnaissance plane circling above Baghdad, its crew monitoring and filtering all ground signal sources through their surveillance equipnt, intercepting sensitive communication channels in an attempt to crack them...
This thing could intercept communication signals up to 600 kiloters deep from 100 kiloters away and detect radar signals within a 300-kiloter range. Its internal equipnt was also capable of network-centric warfare capabilities, making it a primary asset for the US Army in tightly monitoring wide areas and quickly identifying and recognizing targets emitting electromagnetic waves.
Yusuf's frequent problems likely related to this piece of equipnt.
"Understood, end the call quickly; staying on too long could be intercepted."
Song Heping said tersely before adding, "Temporarily halt all transportation activities and sever all contact with . Wait for my ssage, I'll co find you."
After hanging up, Song Heping stood in place for a long ti, his gaze fixed on the distant desert horizon.
The sunset had already dipped mostly below the horizon, the sky an unhealthy orange-red.
"Did sothing go wrong?"
The Ferrari ca up beside him, offering a stick of gum.
Song Heping accepted it, tossing it into his mouth. The cool mint flavor swirled around his mouth, clearing his slightly cluttered mind.
He finally spoke: "The CIA's onto our transport lines; Yusuf can't get the goods out, those SAM-9 missile systems are unlikely to be transported, which is why he risked calling ."
The Ferrari frowned: "What about the ten sets of SAM-9? The Sudanese won't accept 'because of the CIA' as an excuse."
"I know." Song Heping exhaled, looking into the distance: "And it's not just about this shipnt. If the transport network is cut off, our business in xico will also be affected."
The xican drug lords and the Colombian rebel groups value him for the arms trade.
If he lost the arms channel, his status with them would plumt.
The sa goes for Venezuela.
If General Rama lost his share of the arms trade profits, he'd likely have an opinion as well.
His ability to swim freely in South Arica often resulted from being tied to mutual interests.
There's no such thing as eternal friends, only eternal interests.
That phrase applies absolutely in his line of work.
The two fell into silence, the only sounds coming from the gold miners' shouts and the rumbling of machinery below in the mine.
Song Heping's gaze fell on the small nugget of gold in his hand, suddenly realizing he was still clutching it.
He opened his palm, the irregular sand gold still shimring weakly in the twilight.
"First, solve the gold mine issue." Song Heping suddenly said, "I'll contact Brother Hou."
"That's right, secure the profits you can first." The Ferrari nodded: "With the gold mine sorted, at least it'll cover our expenses here. Establishing a foothold is the priority."
"Exactly."
Song Heping pulled up Brother Hou's number and dialed it.
The call connected quickly, and Brother Hou's voice with a heavy GX accent ca through: "Brother Song! I was just about to call you!"
"Brother Hou." Hearing the familiar Chinese and feeling Brother Hou's enthusiasm, Song Heping's voice relaxed slightly: "I've set up two new gold mines in Northern Darfur, but there's a bit of a technical issue I want to consult with you."
"Hahaha, just say it!" Brother Hou laughed heartily: "If it weren't for you last ti, this old bag of bones would have been left in that godforsaken place!"
Song Heping briefly explained the issues with the gold mine's output and purity. Brother Hou imdiately offered advice after listening: "Your thods are too primitive! I have a full set of equipnt and a technical team here, all veteran hands from my hotown in Shanglin. I'll send a few engineers over to take a look and bring so centrifuges and cyanidation equipnt."
"How much will it cost?" Song Heping asked straightforwardly.
"Talk about money!" Brother Hou feigned anger: "Consider it repaynt for saving my life! But..."
His voice suddenly lowered.
"I'm also facing so trouble here. The new mining policies from the Ghana governnt are unfavorable to us Chinese. If I can't stay there in the future and co to you for a bite to eat, don't turn away!"
Song Heping's lips curved into a slight smile: "You're always welco."
After ending the call with Brother Hou, Song Heping turned to the Ferrari: "The technical issues are resolved; Brother Hou will send soone over. But about the arms transport issue..."
The Ferrari sighed: "Without a secure transport route, even if we have the goods, we can't deliver them to the clients."
Song Heping suddenly turned towards the edge of the lookout tower, leaning on the rusty railing as he gazed out into the now fully darkened desert.
The night wind, tinged with sand, whipped against his face, but he seed oblivious.
"There's only one option." Song Heping suddenly said, his voice low but resolute.
The Ferrari moved beside him: "What option?"
"I need to go to Persia myself." Song Heping turned his head, his eyes gleaming with dangerous light in the darkness: "et with Avanti to open new smuggling routes, he's the only one who can help ."
"Are you crazy?" The Ferrari grabbed his arm: "The CIA's likely posted your photo at every border checkpoint! You know how many checkpoints there are from North Africa to Persia?"
Song Heping gently shook off the Ferrari's hand: "That's why I can't take conventional routes."
The Ferrari stared at him for a few seconds, suddenly understanding: "You want Avanti to use his Shiite Arc to help smuggle arms?"
"Exactly. We urgently need new transport routes."
Song Heping's voice was chillingly calm: "Avanti has enough influence in Persia and Yen. If he can help us open the sea route from the Persian Gulf to the Red Sea, we can bypass the CIA's surveillance."
The Ferrari wanted to say more, but Song Heping had already turned and headed toward the tower's stairs: "Assemble the core team for a eting, we'll make plans tonight."
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