Three days later.
Persia, a secret camp of the Revolutionary Guard.
Moradi's teacup rattled on the tray.
His hand was trembling.
The greying intelligence officer stared at the dossier in Avanti's hand, his Adam's apple moving up and down, as if sothing was blocking his windpipe, making him feel like he was about to suffocate.
He knew very well that disaster was looming over him.
"Four years and seven months."
Avanti sliced open the seal with a paper cutter, pulled out a file from inside, and tossed a sheet onto the table.
"The ballet dancer you 't' by chance in Munich was actually a CIA agent."
He pulled out a photo and flicked it onto the coffee table.
"Do I need to continue reading your expense records from last year at the Four Seasons Hotel in Istanbul?"
Moradi's eyes began to grow dazed, his breathing becoming rapid; at his temple, a bead of sweat as large as a bean slowly trickled down.
"You disappoint , Moradi."
Avanti shook his head.
Just from Moradi's reaction, he knew that Song Heping's intelligence was accurate.
The person in front of him was indeed the traitor.
There was no doubt about it.
He felt a strange pang of sorrow.
"You were one of my most outstanding captains when I was serving in the Special Operations Battalion and I personally promoted you to work in the border intelligence unit. Sent to Persia this ti, you were the specific person in charge of the border reception, but I never expected you to betray ."
Avanti stood up, braced his hands on the table, and leaned forward slightly, his face almost touching Moradi's nose.
His graying hair and beard were so vividly clear in Moradi's eyes, but each strand exuded a strong killing intent.
Moradi suddenly reached for the gun at his waist but was struck in the cervical spine by the butt of a rifle from the guard behind him.
Thud—
As he lay twitching on the ground like a stranded fish, Avanti calmly sat back in his seat and then turned to the second page of the file.
"What's interesting is that just ten minutes after we arrested you, the Arican Embassy issued a diplomatic note."
Avanti stood up and walked to Moradi's side.
The hard military boot crushed Moradi's fingers.
"It seems Song Heping was right; our intelligence system indeed leaks like a sieve."
At this, he suddenly sighed.
Knock knock knock—
The urgent knocking interrupted the interrogation.
"Co in."
Avanti turned to look at the doorway.
A flicker of hope appeared in Moradi's murky eyes.
The knocking was so urgent, obviously indicating sothing very important.
Perhaps the Aricans would use other ans to save him...
Fanciful thoughts rose in his heart.
However, these dreamlike fantasies, as fragile as soap bubbles, were quickly shattered by the soldiers who burst in—a few wolf-like soldiers from the Persian Revolutionary Guard's Special Operations Brigade escorted a bloodied blonde man inside.
"Mr. Avanti, we caught this man near Moradi's residence. He's a killer sent by the CIA."
Avanti glanced at the blonde man, looked again at the disheveled Moradi, then shook his head and said in a mocking tone, "Look at that, they weren't even willing to put more effort into rescuing you, but instead prepared a 'cleaner' for you."
Moradi shook uncontrollably in despair, his body quivering like a fla in the wind.
Avanti ca in front of the blonde man, observed him, then coldly signaled to a few officers and soldiers beside him, "Take him out and deal with him."
A few officers and soldiers, wolf-like once more, carried the man out as they had brought him in.
Avanti took out a piece of paper and a pen, gesturing to his n to prop Moradi up in front of the table, then tossed the paper and pen in front of him.
"Write down everything you know, all the nas of traitors within our ranks. If you confess truthfully, maybe you can exchange it for a lifeti of imprisonnt, instead of losing your life."
Moradi stared at the paper and pen on the table, like a clay statue, without any reaction for a long ti.
Avanti seed to have understood sothing.
He knew that Moradi definitely had critical weaknesses held by the Aricans; otherwise, he wouldn't still be holding out at this stage.
Just as he was about to proceed to the next step, the distant sound of helicopter rotors suddenly ca from outside the window.
Soon, soone ca over and knocked on the door.
"The guest has arrived, Mr. Avanti."
"Oh!"
Avanti nodded.
When he turned back to Moradi, he seed to lose the interest to continue personally interrogating him, instead giving a glance to a nearby officer, before turning and leaving the room.
Leaving the building, he walked out into the sunlight.
In the distant training ground, an MI-17 helicopter had already landed on the open space.
As the helicopter door opened, Song Heping appeared in Avanti's sight, accompanied by Antonov and Nura.
He spread his arms, revealing a radiant smile.
"My friend, my good brother."
Song Heping stepped forward and hugged Avanti, then they shook hands.
"So, did you catch the traitor?"
"Caught him." Avanti pointed to the distant building: "Still interrogating."
Song Heping said, "When you find a cockroach in the kitchen, you've probably got a nest in the corner. Old friend, you should consider how to clean up your room."
Avanti sighed and said, "To kill cockroaches, you first have to find out where the nest is. Only then can you wipe them out."
Song Heping's lips moved as if he wanted to say sothing but finally said nothing.
Such places as the Revolutionary Guard being so thoroughly infiltrated was definitely not a problem that could be solved by just finding the cockroach nest.
However, so things that touch the soul, he couldn't speak of.
After all, he was just a guest.
"You are a tactical expert, so since you're here, I invite you to assist in conducting this investigation, just as a favor, to clear out all the spies lurking within our Revolutionary Guard."
Avanti made his request.
Then nonchalantly slipped a candy into Song Heping's hand: "I understand the purpose of your trip. You want the Middle East arms smuggling channels, that's fine. I agree. The two smuggling routes controlled by our Revolutionary Guard will be fully open to your company. As long as you give us reasonable freight charges, you will receive the arms you want in any country in Africa or even the Middle East, but as for the rest of the world, I cannot help."
The terms of the exchange were already on the table, and Song Heping knew not agreeing would be unwise.
The secret transport channels established by the Revolutionary Guard over the years had cost a lot of manpower, resources, and even lives.
If Avanti could generously share them, it showed he genuinely wanted to win him over.
Being courted was because he was valuable.
To show his value, he had to get things done for others.
There's no such thing as a free lunch in the world; to gain sothing, you have to pay a price.
"No problem, I'll stay here until I help you solve this problem before I leave."
"Don't be in a hurry to leave; you're absolutely safe here with ," Avanti said. "Have you ever thought about settling down in Persia? I can help you build a family, put down roots, after all, you can no longer return to your holand. Sothing to consider."
"I think it's better to focus on the pressing matter at hand and help you clean out the cockroaches first."
Song Heping diverted the topic, mimicking a sweeping motion.
He wouldn't fall for it.
Avanti, the old fox, wanted him to settle down in Persia.
Once settled, he'd really be at his rcy.
"Good, it's a deal!"
Avanti, too, was a wise man; a wise man needn't lay everything bare, making things awkward for each other.
He had already seen that Song Heping wasn't willing to submit under him.
If that's the case, there's no need to force it.
Soone like Song Heping couldn't be constrained by him anyway.
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