Chapter 1833 - 1387: The Disappearing Ghost

At six in the morning, on the third floor of the main building of the Joint Task Force base, Lemont sipped his now cold black coffee, his gaze swiftly scanning over the camp area.

The operation in Badi Town failed yesterday, and today everyone at the base is busy dealing with the mess left behind. Other than the intelligence department continuing to search for Misu's whereabouts, all the action team members and Delta Force special soldiers have no tasks.

On the open ground outside the building, the mercenaries under Milosh were chatting and smoking by the Hummer; in the hangar, two Black Hawk helicopters were undergoing pre-flight checks; sporadic gunfire came from the direction of the shooting range.

Everything appeared normal, yet something seemed missing.

Lemont had been observing from upstairs for fifteen minutes, but the figure of Song Heping never appeared.

He had just been to the other's room, knocked on the door, but no one responded.

Very strange.

He pondered for a moment, placed the coffee cup aside, and then went downstairs.

"Milosh!"

Reaching the open ground downstairs, he shouted to the Serbian, "Come over here."

Milosh turned around, was momentarily stunned, and upon seeing it was Lemont, a sneer flowed from his eyes, unable to hide.

"Mr. Lemont, something so early?"

His address carried a trace of subtle detachment, emphasizing their non-military, non-direct subordination relationship.

"Where is Song Heping?" Lemont asked bluntly.

Milosh tilted his head, revealing a meaningful smile: "You mean my boss? How would I know his whereabouts? He doesn't need to report to me."

He shrugged, turned to glance at the mercenary comrades beside him, laughed loudly: "Maybe running around the base? He has that habit."

"I've checked, he's not," Lemont's voice contained a barely noticeable impatience: "Where was he last night?"

Milosh turned around, a hint of amusement in his eyes: "Mr. Lemont, you are the... coordination officer here, not his babysitter. Maybe he went to Baghdad? I heard a nice club opened there, filled with big beauties in stockings."

He grinned, showing a mouthful of white teeth: "Relax, sir, our boss is an adult and can take care of himself."

Lemont stared at him for three seconds, realizing he wouldn't get results from Milosh.

So he said no more and turned away.

Milosh's smile quickly disappeared behind him. The Serbian spat on the ground, cursed softly in his mother tongue, and then continued training.

Lemont walked directly towards the medical zone at the other end of the base.

Duke was standing outside a temporary medical tent, speaking with a gloomy face to a military doctor. Beside them were two Hummers withdrawn from Badi Town yesterday, riddled with bullet marks, the canvas stained with dark brown smudges.

"General."

Lemont approached, interrupting their conversation.

Duke turned his head, saw Lemont, slightly furrowed his brows, then said to the military doctor: "Treat the lightly injured team members as I just instructed, prioritize wounds with high infection risk."

The military doctor nodded and turned into the tent.

"Lemont." Duke's voice was weary, but without extra warmth: "What is it? I'm very busy here, last night's action cost us six people, seven more were lightly injured, a whole mess."

"Where is Song Heping?"

Lemont repeated the question, his gaze fixed on Duke's eyes.

Duke was momentarily stunned, then spread his hands: "Song? How would I know? He's the 'Musician's' boss, a contractor, not my direct subordinate. His whereabouts don't need to be reported to me."

He lifted the camouflage scarf hanging around his neck to wipe the sweat and dust from his face.

"Maybe he's in his own room?"

There was a trace of disdain in his tone.

"He's not here."

Lemont slowly stated: "He hasn't been in the base at all this morning."

Duke's eyes flickered, but soon returned to calm: "So what? Maybe he has personal matters. Lemont, listen, I really don't have time to worry about where a contractor went, I have soldiers to take care of, action reports to write, possibly even having Badi Town's screw-up pinned on me."

He waved his hand, making a gesture to dismiss him.

"If you're worried about him, why not directly call his satellite phone? Sorry, excuse me."

He finished and turned away, not even saying goodbye.

Lemont stood stunned in place.

The morning sun was becoming scorching, glaring on the back of his neck.

The feeling of something being wrong grew stronger and stronger.

Duke's evasiveness was too obvious, and Milosh's teasing was full of protective implications.

Song Heping wasn't someone who would disappear without reason, especially not at such a sensitive time when the key target Misu was still missing, and the Badi Town operation had just been a disastrous failure.

Unless…

He discovered something, or he decided to do something on his own.

Lemont recalled the conversation he had with Song Heping yesterday.

A few minutes later, Lemont walked towards the base's surveillance center.

As the head of the CIA Illigo Intelligence Station, and also the "Intelligence Coordinator and Advisor" for this joint operation, he had access to all areas of the base.

The surveillance room was manned by a young Air Force technical sergeant, who was yawning and staring at a dozen split-screen monitors.

Seeing Lemont enter, he quickly stood up: "SIR!"

"Retrieve the past 24 hours, all entry and exit surveillance footage of the base, especially the east-side personnel and vehicle exits," Lemont ordered, his tone leaving no room for doubt.