Chapter 1856 - 1395: Return to Mosul (2)

Song Heping's heart sank.

It was Milosh.

The tall figure of the Serbian was now hunched over, his face bearing visible bruises, his left eye swollen almost shut.

He was roughly dragged across the yard and thrown into a separate bungalow.

That was the interrogation room, where Song Heping had stayed for several days in the base and knew the function of every building.

Soon after, three more mercenaries were brought out, all members of Song Heping's "Desert Hound" company.

One of them walked unsteadily, his pants soaked with blood at the thigh. These men were also pushed into that bungalow.

The binoculars trembled slightly in Song Heping's hands.

Not because of fear, but anger.

The observation continued until two in the morning.

Song Heping noted down the patrol rotation times, camera blind spots, and the positions of peripheral sentries.

He also noticed that the base's guard had been noticeably strengthened, with two M2 heavy machine guns mounted on Hummer rooftops, cement barriers added at the entrance, and even the streets outside the walls cleared to form a wide field of fire.

It seems Ryan has brought quite a few newcomers this time.

In the darkest hour before dawn, Song Heping packed up his equipment and silently retreated from the observation point.

He needed to reassess the situation, and firstly he required a safe place to stay.

As the day began to break, Song Heping had already transformed back into a civilian in tattered robes.

He used cash to buy a prepaid phone card at the market, then found three different public phone booths, confirmed he wasn't being followed with a complicated route, and finally dialed the number at the fourth booth.

The ring sounded six times, and just as Song Heping was about to hang up, the other end picked up.

"It's me, I need to see you."

Song Heping spoke in Arabic, his voice pressed low.

There was silence on the other end for a full five seconds, then an exclamation.

"Allah... Boss, it's you! Where are you?"

Boss.

A familiar title.

"Old town, the phone booth two hundred meters south of the Nur Mosque."

"Stay there, don't move. A white Toyota Hilux will pass by in thirty minutes, license plate ending in 47. Get in."

The phone hung up.

Song Heping left the phone booth and crouched in the shadow of the mosque, observing the street.

Twenty-five minutes later, a white pickup slowly approached, the license plate indeed ending in 47.

There was only one person in the car, dressed in Illigo Army uniform.

The pickup did not come to a complete stop, but only slowed down.

Song Heping opened the car door and jumped in, the vehicle immediately accelerated and left.

"Mr. Song, I've been sent by Commander Samir," the driver said, his eyes warily scanning the rearview mirror, "Keep your head down. There are a lot of American eyes in the city."

Song Heping complied.

The pickup weaved through the streets of Mosul, deliberately taking several loops, finally driving into the Tenth Division's barracks in the west of the city.

The gate sentry saw the license plate and let them pass directly, the vehicle headed straight to the back door of the command building and stopped.

Samir was already waiting there.

The commander of the Illigo Army's Tenth Division wore a meticulously pressed uniform, though the dark circles under his eyes showed he hadn't slept well these past few days.

Seeing Song Heping get out of the car, he stepped forward quickly and embraced him.

"Boss, seeing you alive, I thank Allah." Samir's voice was a bit hoarse.

"Milosh and the others are in American hands." Song Heping said directly.

Samir's expression darkened.

"I know. The Americans sent an official notice yesterday, saying your company is suspected of illegal arms trading and terrorist connections, asking us to cooperate in capturing you."

He paused, then sneered, "They even hinted that if you were hiding in my barracks, it might affect US-Ili relations."

The two quickly entered the building and went to Samir's private office.

The window had a view over the entire barracks.

The neatly arranged armored vehicles, soldiers in training, and the Illigo Country flag fluttering.

This place and the surrounding area housed twelve thousand soldiers loyal to Samir, the most powerful military force in Mosul and the western region.

"I need food." Song Heping said, "I haven't had a proper meal in three days."

Samir immediately called for his adjutant.

Ten minutes later, the desk was spread with roast lamb, pita bread, hummus, and a large pot of sweet tea.

Song Heping sat down, devouring it as his mind raced.

"What kind of pressure did they give you?" He asked while eating.

"Pressure?" Samir chuckled bitterly, "The defense attaché at the American embassy in Baghdad personally called me, saying if you show up in Mosul, you must be immediately arrested and handed over. Secretary of State Kerry is visiting Baghdad next week, and they want to resolve 'unstable factors' before then."

"Unstable factors." Song Heping repeated the term, his tone sarcastic, "It refers to people who know too many secrets."

He put down the bread in his hand, stared into Samir's eyes.

"Do you know the reason behind all this?"

Samir shook his head.

Song Heping spent twenty minutes telling the entire story—from the mysterious death of General Duke, to the secret operations of the 'Witness' department, and how the 'Seeder' plan aimed to create controllable chaos in the Middle East to maintain US military presence, conducting chemical weapon attacks to frame the Hafez regime and using the opportunity of the attacks for new chemical weapon experiments, to how Lemont and Ryan took over the joint operations team, designating him as a target for pursuit.

"So they killed General Duke?" Samir asked, shocked, "A serving major general of the US Army!?"

"A command from Hillary or her people, I guess," Song Heping said, "Duke wanted to expose the 'Seeder' plan; if he spilled the beans, not only would the past crimes be exposed, but the entire decision-making process of the 2011 troop withdrawal would be re-examined, causing a very severe international public opinion storm."

Samir stood up, walked to the window, turned his back on the room, and was silent for a long time.

"Boss, do you know what this means? You're challenging not just a few secret agents, but... a part of the US government. Maybe the White House, maybe the State Department, maybe those agencies whose names we don't even know."

"I know." Song Heping said calmly, "But this isn't Washington, Samir. This is Mosul, it's your turf and my turf. The Americans have withdrawn most of their troops, leaving only less than five thousand in Illigo, scattered across several bases. Mosul Joint Operations Team? One hundred twenty Special Forces soldiers, perhaps a few dozen 'Witness' agents."

He walked to Samir's side, and the two men looked out at the soldiers training below.

"And you have twelve thousand men, plus more than ten thousand with Abu You in Kirkuk. Twenty thousand against one hundred twenty, Samir. This isn't a challenge, it's a crush."

Samir turned around, his eyes reflecting complex emotions.

"You want me to surround American bases? Arrest US soldiers? Song, this will start a war!"

"No." Song Heping said firmly, "Because they dare not let things be exposed. The 'Seeder' plan is illegal, unauthorized by Congress, against international law. If things get out of hand, Hillary's presidential campaign will be ruined, and the high officials who authorized the plan would be utterly disgraced. Their only choice is to negotiate quietly, to cover everything up."

He held Samir's shoulder.

"Remember when 1515 swept through Mosul? Where were the Americans? They were in Qatar drinking coffee, holding briefing sessions in the Green Zone of Baghdad. It was us, you and me, and Abu You, we led these soldiers to take back the city inch by inch. The promises of the Americans are like mirages in the desert, looking beautiful, but always out of reach. And they're not as terrifying as imagined, don't overestimate their power."

Samir's expression began to waver.

Song Heping knew he had hit a nerve.

"Moreover," Song Heping added, "if anything happens to me, what about you? I helped you rise; will the factions that opposed your forces being incorporated into the Defense Army seize the chance to retaliate? It won't benefit you at all."

This was the final piece of leverage.

Samir knew Song Heping spoke the truth.

If he offended Song Heping, or something happened to Song Heping, neither the Tenth Division nor Samir would fare well.

"What do you want me to do?" Samir finally asked.

Song Heping smiled.

He knew he had regained control.