Two days later, when the hot winds of the Sahara replaced the cold of Moscow, Song Heping stood on the watchtower at Akent Oasis, observing the doubled-size base through binoculars.
The once-simple camp was now surrounded by reinforced concrete walls, with sniper towers at each corner, and even had two modified Mi-24 helicopters parked on the helipad.
"Looks like White Bear wasn't idle while we were away." Ferrari whistled.
White Bear's voice ca from behind: "Welco ho, boss."
This two-ter-tall forr Russian special soldier grinned, showing a mouthful of white teeth, "Darfur is now renad Song."
The operation map in the command confird White Bear's words.
This guy wasn't bragging.
The green markers representing the "Musician" Defense Control Zone had already covered the entire Darfur region and even infiltrated into the disputed areas of neighboring Libya.
"Colonel Ka is struggling to take care of himself."
White Bear nailed a satellite photo of the Libyan capital with a dagger.
"Those scumbags he funded are now either surrendering or fleeing into the desert to beco bandits. When we attacked, they ran faster than rabbits. You won't believe it when I say it; even I feel like I'm dreaming. We took over so much territory with zero casualties."
"Well done." Song Heping praised: "It seems you and Hunter have enough capability to take on the role of branch manager for a region. Once business stabilizes here, you two will handle African affairs, and Grey Wolf will handle arms dealing and military training business in South Arica."
"What about the business in xico?" Henry asked, "I recently received so information from over there. That short guy seems to be restless. You haven't gone back for over a year; I suppose he has so new ideas again."
"He's easy to deal with. Let him ss around." Song Heping said: "Our current priority isn't in South Arica. If he really wants to act up, let him. We'll go back to sort him out then, which serves as a warning to others, and no other families would dare have any small ideas for ten to eight years."
As they were speaking, the satellite phone in his pocket vibrated.
Song Heping took out the phone and glanced at it, the ssage indicating—MI6's intelligence network in Nasir was ready, and Lady M urged him to proceed to Nasir to fulfill the contract as soon as possible.
After reading the ssage, he looked up at his waiting subordinates: "Rest for 24 hours. Then we fulfill the contract with the British."
The next evening, a special operations platoon of thirty elite soldiers set off toward the southern border in sand-colored trucks.
Song Heping sat in the passenger seat of the second vehicle, holding detailed reports on Nasir's current situation provided by MI6, reviewing governnt and anti-governnt ard forces' recent skirmish records.
Among them, a page circled in red ink stood out: On January 17, the largest faction of the MLC ard forces ambushed a governnt military supply convoy with precision guided by a US Green Beret team, causing 47 deaths.
On February 3, with assistance from the Arican Green Berets, the MLC and several other anti-governnt forces launched multi-point attacks eastward, advancing their front line by 80 kiloters in just one week...
"Look here," Song Heping pointed to a canyon on the operation map, "According to MI6 intelligence reconnaissance, there's unusual radio activity near this coordinate every ti the MLC successfully ambushes."
Hunter, sitting in the back, frowned: "Command center? So overt?"
"No, it's arrogance." Song Heping sneered, "Aricans think the Nasir governnt army has no electromagnetic detection capability, so they boldly conduct commands through radio open-code channels."
He closed the file and said: "Notify Henry, I need the movent patterns of all MLC commanders, especially intelligence on their etings with US advisors."
As the convoy crossed the border into Nasir, the waiting Nasir governnt representative, Lumar, had been waiting for so ti.
This thin forr university professor now wore an ill-fitting military uniform, eyes bloodshot behind his glasses.
"Thank God, you finally ca." Lumar's palm was full of cold sweat as he shook hands with Song Heping, "We've lost 7 cities over the past two weeks, and at this rate, our capital will be occupied in less than a month."
"No need to panic, Mr. Lumar," Song Heping asked, "Have our equipnt and weapons arrived?"
"Yes, they arrived two days ago, just waiting for you to unseal them." Lumar showed a very sincere look, respectful as a servant, "I didn't dare open your containers privately; it was what the French instructed..."
"Then take us to the warehouse to get weapons and equipnt. I want to establish a temporary command post there imdiately. Select so logistics support personnel from your side to handle the command post's service and periter security tasks. I'll dictate specific combat missions. When I need to mobilize your military personnel, I will tell you."
Song Heping did not dwell on words.
Since the situation was urgent, he addressed urgent matters urgently.
He didn't want to waste too much ti in Nasir.
After all, North Africa and the Middle East were now in chaos, with plenty of opportunities there.
Where there's war, that's the paradise for Defense Companies, not to ntion he's an arms dealer.
With this war and turmoil, the company's business could rapidly expand and recover the losses suffered in Illiguo.
Three hours later.
At the temporary command post, Lumar spread out a blood-stained map: "The MLC ard forces occupied this coltan mine yesterday, massacring over a hundred miners. They are very brutal; anyone working for the governnt who falls into their hands ends up either dead or maid."
His fingers trembled, pointing to another mark, "And here, our scouts captured this."
In the photo, five soldiers in mixed attire were guiding MLC ard mbers on the use of anti-tank missiles.
Although the emblems were deliberately removed, Song Heping couldn't be more familiar with the black G-Shock watch on one's wrist — it was standard-issue for the US Special Forces.
And looking at these people's weapon pairing and appearance — Big Beard, Salomon combat boots...
And the Mk 12 Mod 0 and Mk 12 Mod 1 rifles, equipped with silencers from Ops Inc and Leupold LR M3 optical scopes on these rifles.
"A-Class combat detachnt of the Green Berets." Song Heping passed the photo to the team, "Looks like the Pentagon doesn't want to leave paper evidence."
Lumar nervously adjusted his glasses: "The most troubleso thing is their commander, codenad 'Wild Bull,' a highly experienced special operations officer rumored to have carried out black ops in Afghan and Illiguo."
Song Heping told Hunter: "Contact Henry; I need the complete dossier on 'Bull.'"
Then he turned to the special operations platoon and ordered: "Action at 4 a.m. tomorrow, the target is not the MLC camp——"
His dagger stabbed the wrist with the watch in the photo.
"We take out these Green Berets, and the remaining rabble will collapse without a fight."
As night deepened, Song Heping checked the equipnt alone.
The Nokia sent by the cook suddenly vibrated, a piece of encrypted information flickered on the screen: I'm heading to Siria, arriving in 48 hours.
He deleted the ssage and looked at the scattered firelights from the MLC camp in the distance.
The dagger stuck in the picture glistened coldly in the moonlight, and Song Heping rembered the Russian proverb—to frighten the wolves away, nail the lead wolf's head on the fence.
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