Mercenaries, I Will Be King Chapter 945 - 882 Surrounded

Inside the office at Sena Army Headquarters, the blades of the ceiling fan sliced through the stagnant air, emitting a botherso hum.

General Wula's stubby fingers pinched the latest battle report, sweat continuously sliding down his dark round face, seeping into the fabric of his uniform as dark stains.

"The rebels retreated?"

His voice seed to squeeze out from his throat, and his eyes nearly bulged from their sockets. The coffee cup on the desk reflected his twisted visage on the surface of the thick liquid.

The adjutant standing in front of the desk maintained a standard attention position, his Adam's apple rolling unnaturally.

"Reporting to the commander, it's absolutely true. Three hours ago, the MLC frontline command encountered a surprise attack, Kandar's tent was hit directly by a rocket, his current status unknown."

"The Arican Special Forces coming to reinforce encountered an ambush in the valley area, two hours later, the Rebel Alliance's troops fell into chaos due to loss of command, and Lumar led the 3rd and 5th brigades in a full counterattack, repelling the rebels. As things stand, they'll retreat back into Usseda territory within a day..."

"Enough!"

General Wula's bulky body dropped heavily back onto the leather chair, which groaned under the strain.

He waved for the adjutant to leave, and only when the heavy oak door was completely closed did he turn towards the French military advisor sitting in the shadows.

"Mr. Fernando."

Wula's voice was suppressed to a low pitch, fingers absentmindedly tapping on the ivory paperweight on the desk, "What do you make of this? Do you not have any opinion?"

The Frenchman slowly erged from the shadows, sunlight casting striped shadows on his angular face through the blinds.

Fernando de Clermont, forr Major of the Foreign Legion, currently the chief military advisor for the Sena Governnt Army.

He leisurely pulled out a Gitanes cigarette and lit it, the fla of the gilded Dupont lighter flickering in his grey-blue pupils.

"General." He exhaled a perfect smoke ring, "What's really troubling you isn't the defeat of the rebels, but the consequences of victory, isn't it?"

More sweat oozed from General Wula's forehead, he grabbed a silk handkerchief to wipe it off: "That China man... Song Heping... he actually did it. We spent six months and exhausted two brigades without resolving the rebel issue, and he did it with thirty-odd rcenaries in just a week..."

"Just proving your incompetence."

Fernando interrupted him, bluntly expressing the unbearable truth.

Seeing Wula's face turn crimson, he added, "Please forgive my frankness, but it's ti to face reality. This victory will spread across the nation like wildfire, and the ones who ignited it were the opposition leader Lumar and that British lapdog."

Wula stood up abruptly, his stomach hitting the edge of the desk, knocking over the coffee cup: "The British! I knew it! Song Heping isn't so freelance rcenary; he's a henchman of MI6!"

Fernando's lips curled slightly upward as he pulled out a kraft envelope from his briefcase, pushing it towards Wula with his long fingers: "Have a look at this. Three days ago, at Lumar's temporary command post."

The photo showed Lumar and Song Heping conversing in a military tent, with one clear image showing a military map of the capital Butare spread on the table.

"This...this is..."

"It's intelligence sent by a mole I planted beside Lumar."

Fernando's finger pointed at a blurry figure in the photo.

"Notice the map? This isn't a counter-insurgency operation; it's a coup plan. Lumar and him are discussing the coup."

Wula's hands began to tremble uncontrollably, the photo rustling between his fingers: "They really dare..."

"The important thing is what the president will believe."

The French advisor showed a fox-like smile: "Consider this, when the public is still cheering for victory, we reveal this shocking conspiracy... Your cousin, the president, whom do you think he'd be grateful to?"

Three hours later, in the underground operations room of the Sen President Mansion.

"This is impossible!"

President Noel slamd the photo onto the table, gold-edged cufflinks sparkling under the light, "Lumar wouldn't have the guts to launch a coup!"

Fernando smoothly activated the projector: "Your Excellency, please watch this video."

The footage showed Lumar shaking hands with a suit-clad white man.

"That's the British military attaché in Cote Ivoire, from last week's eting. Now look at this..." He switched the image to display an arms list.

"British-made equipnt transported via Nigeria, destination being Lumar's private camp."

Wula's plump face was filled with a faux expression of anguish and disappointnt: "Cousin...no, Your Excellency, President, we must act before they do..."

Noel suddenly grabbed a crystal ashtray and hurled it at the wall, shards flying everywhere: "Arrest them imdiately! All involved in the insurrection, leave no one!"

Fernando half-bowed gracefully: "General Wula has arranged for a battalion at the camp where Song Heping is expected to return. As soon as Song Heping arrives at the base..."

"No!" Noel's eyes flashed fiercely, "I want a public trial, let the whole nation see the fate of traitors."

Upon leaving the President Mansion, Wula nervously rubbed his hands: "That Chinese rcenary is hard to deal with, his team is all elite..."

Fernando lit a second cigarette, his smile faintly visible in the smoke: "They fought a battle with the Aricans, likely lost more than half their forces. Do you really think the remaining twenty or so remnants, with a well-equipped battalion, you can't handle them?"

Saying this, a trace of disdain crept into his eyes.

Wula's old face turned red once more.

"Of course, no problem! There are only a dozen or twenty of them!"

At dusk, several bullet-riddled jeeps dragged dust as they drove towards the base approximately forty kiloters behind the front line of Sena Governnt Army.

Song Heping sat in the shotgun seat of the lead vehicle, the abrasion on his forehead already scabbed over, his camouflage uniform stained with dried blood.

"We're ho, brothers."

He patted Gabri's shoulder on the driver's seat.

In the rearview mirror, the convoy included battered special forces soldiers, with one vehicle filled entirely with corpses.

This battle was tougher than any previous ambush.

It's undeniable that the Green Berets squad was absolutely fierce, causing significant losses on his side.

The gates of the base slowly opened, yet no guards were visible.

Song Heping was slightly startled, gazing into the base.

Unlike the bustling scene before, today's camp was silent as a grave.

As he was filled with confusion, the convoy slowly entered the base.

Bang—

The blinding searchlights suddenly lit up all around.

Bang—

With a crisp gunshot, the tire of the lead vehicle blew out.

In an instant, hundreds of fully-ard Sena Governnt Army soldiers surged from behind cover, the glint of sniper scopes flashing on the rooftops.

"Get out of the car! Everyone, hands over your heads!"

The command in the loudspeaker was accompanied by a crackle of static.

Song Heping slowly raised his hands, his eyes swiftly scanning the battlefield: four armored vehicles blocked the exit, at least two companies' strength forming a circular encirclent, with at least six sniper points on the high ground.

His Adam's apple moved—this was a dead-end trap.

Damn it!

How could they capsized here?

Despite calculating everything, he hadn't foreseen being betrayed after the victory.

His mind quickly flashed back to the situation in Sena that Omar had ntioned, and he suddenly understood.

He didn't want to be embroiled in political strife.

But it seed trouble had found him.

General Wula slowly stepped out from among the soldiers, his golden stars gleaming under the searchlights: "Song, congratulations on your brilliant victory."

His smile was as fake as if it were painted on.

"But there are so... procedures between us that still need to be addressed."

"What kind of issue requires a general to bring so many people to surround us? Are we enemies?"

Song Heping turned his head towards the sniper's position, "Did no one tell you that this jungle camo is too conspicuous in desert areas?"

Wula's smile froze.

He raised his hand, and a Major from the governnt army stepped forward, taking out a docunt to begin reading—

"...Based on reliable intelligence, 'Musician' has conspired with dostic opposition to overthrow the president in a coup..."

Gabri suddenly roared: "We just fought a battle with the Arican Special Forces! Lost over a dozen brothers! We helped you dismantle the rebel attack, and you accuse us of plotting..."

Before he finished, a soldier stepped forward and struck him on the back with a rifle butt.

Gabri fell to the ground in response.

Song Heping tensed his muscles but forced himself to relax after glancing around.

Since they were already in a desperate situation, he might as well face it calmly.

If it were really the end, then so be it.

"Where's the evidence?"

He countered.

Wula proudly took out a photo to show to Song Heping: "A few days ago, you and Lumar secretly planned to capture the President's Mansion in a tent!"

"That was a eting three days ago to discuss joint operations."

Song Heping sneered. He suddenly recalled that brief conversation he had in a tent with Omar that day; although it resulted in nothing, he had rejected the invitation to join the coup, and likely, eavesdroppers were present.

"Our conversation didn't even last ten minutes. If that's considered planning a coup, isn't it too much of a joke?"

Wula's face turned suddenly sour.

Because Song Heping's rebuttal was perfectly reasonable.

A coup is a big matter, requiring long-term planning and ti to strategize.

Planning a coup in ten minutes?

It's not so casual dinner invitation.

To deliberate such an earth-shattering event in such a brief ti—it was sheer fantasy.

Wula suddenly realized he might have acted rashly.

Perhaps Song Heping was indeed wronged, and he had just acted impulsively without thinking it through.

At that mont, Song Heping's phone in his pocket vibrated.

Wula heard the vibration and frowned.

"Take his phone!"

A soldier stepped forward and retrieved Song Heping's satellite phone.

Wula took the phone and pressed the speaker button.

Lumar's voice ca through: "Song, don't return to the camp. I got word that Wula is going to move against you. Your friend Jiang is with now. Co imdiately to the frontline command post to regroup!"

Song Heping heard the contents of the call, and his scalp tingled.

Damn it!

Africans are rough in their actions!

Not even bothering to confirm if it's really , spouting all this...

This was pushing him right into the fire!

Wula displayed a smile, his large mouth flashing a gold tooth.

He proudly spoke to Omar over the phone, "Lumar, thank you for giving the best evidence, you traitor! Rebellion!"

With that, he cut off the call directly.

Then, impatiently, he waved his hand, "Take them away! Lock them all in the basent!"