Chapter 1837 - 1388: Simon's Warning_2

"When do we start?" another mercenary asked.

"At two in the morning."

Song Heping glanced at the tactical watch on his wrist.

"That's when the human body is most exhausted, and vigilance is at its lowest. We infiltrate from the southeast sand ditch, avoiding the main patrol routes and spotlights. Joseph, you take two men to clear the sentries and surveillance, act fast, use silencers."

"Understood."

"The rest follow me straight into the target storage area. If Misu is found, control him first and, if necessary, incapacitate non-lethally. I need him alive; what's in his head is worth more than gold."

Song Heping's voice was exceptionally clear and chilly in the cold wind.

"If we encounter oilfield guards or unidentified armed personnel, determine whether to engage or retreat based on the level of threat. Our goal is extraction, not assault."

The group responded in low voices and began the final equipment check to ensure every detail was flawless.

The desert night wind blew against the camouflage net, making a mild rustling sound that masked all movements here.

Just then, Song Heping's high-encryption satellite phone vibrated at his waist.

Not the usual one.

Song Heping frowned; very few knew this number.

He signaled everyone to stay quiet and stepped deeper into the trench, pressing the answer button.

"Song, what kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into?"

Simon's voice came through, devoid of the usual bureaucratic tone, carrying a hint of exasperation mixed with deep concern.

"I don't understand what you mean, Director." Song Heping said calmly.

"Don't give me that crap!"

Simon lowered his voice but his anger was unmistakable: "Just two hours ago, I received a direct emergency order from the White House National Security Council, demanding I coordinate all CIA resources in Iraq Station and surrounding areas, including informants, electronic monitoring stations, even some dormant assets I've almost forgotten, to fully locate your whereabouts! They want to know where you are, what you're doing, and who you're with!"

Song Heping's eyes narrowed.

Lemont moved swiftly and went straight to the top.

Looks like Duke's fears were justified.

Even though he's an active-duty Major General, in front of top DC District politicians, he's as fragile as an A4 sheet of paper.

"So, what have you done, or discovered, that makes those big shots at the White House break their focus during a heated election to personally inquire about a mercenary leader's trail?"

Simon questioned: "Song, I've warned you, steady days are hard earned! My position as director isn't stable either, post-election it's uncertain who will be in my office! Don't drag me into deadly trouble!"

"If I weren't worried you'd die, triggering the automatic exposure of 'documents' about my 'past' per preset procedures, do you think I'd risk this call to warn you?"

Simon's voice was full of helplessness and frustration.

"You're now a bomb ready to explode anytime, looks like the White House wants to dismantle or throw you far away before you detonate on them!"

Song Heping remained silent for a few seconds, listening to Simon's anger.

Finally, he spoke slowly: "Simon, have you heard of the 'Witness' department? And... the 'Seeder' plan?"

On the other end, Simon's breathing clearly halted.

A prolonged silence ensued, broken only by a faint electronic current typical of encrypted lines.

After a full dozen seconds, Simon's voice returned, much lower and cautious: "...Where did you hear those names?"

"Lemont, your Iraq Station chief, he's here executing a top-priority mission: hunting a defector named Misu. This person is one of the key assets in the 'Seeder' plan, correct?"

Song Heping continued: "And your esteemed Lemont chief seems more inclined to silence this person forever, rather than extracting Buckdadi's hiding place from him. Maybe he doesn't even know Buckdadi's location; perhaps it's just your people using the track Buckdadi excuse to cover up."

Simon fell into silence again, longer this time.

Song Heping could almost picture the CIA director sitting in his office, his face changing as he weighed the pros and cons.

This call, Simon originally intended to warn him but was rattled by the information Song threw at him.

"…Song," finally, Simon's voice rang out, unusually solemn: "Listen to me, cease everything you're doing immediately. Regarding the 'Seeder' and Misu, those aren't for you to touch, nor can I. The water there is deep enough to drown everyone."

"It's too late, Simon." Song Heping looked at the distant oilfield lights: "I'm already in the water."

"…They will send professional 'Cleaners'." Simon almost squeezed this word through clenched teeth: "If you're determined to wade through this muddy water... be careful. And remember your promise, those documents..."

"As long as I live, they remain just documents."

Song Heping finished and hung up the phone.

No more questions needed, Simon's response confirmed all his suspicions and foretold the impending threat level.

He ended the call with Simon.

"Cleaner"—the codename itself is very telling.

He's too familiar with the nature of these units.

No record, no questions asked, serving silently for the highest clearance "clean."

Their arrival means the force behind Lemont has torn off the last veneer, placing both him and Misu on the must-remove list.