Chapter 1951 - 1428: A Phone Call from an "Old Acquaintance

As they walked out of the Ministry of Defense Building, Baghdad's sweltering afternoon sunlight poured down unimpeded, sharply contrasting with the cool constant temperature inside the building, making one feel dizzy for a moment.

Heat waves carried the scent of dust as they hit their faces. In the distance, in front of the checkpoint in the Green Zone, vehicles lined up for security checks, and the roar of engines and occasional horn blasts formed the background noise.

Yusuf appeared quite excited, forcefully patting Song Heping on the shoulder, almost hugging him, his voice carrying undisguised joy: "Congratulations, my dear friend! If this deal finally lands, do you know how much you can make? That will be a sky-high—"

"I know the approximate range of numbers, Yusuf."

Song Heping calmly interrupted him, putting on sunglasses to shield his eyes from the glaring sunlight.

"Moreover, I am also very clear that if I dismantle this batch of goods, sell it to the black market, or distribute it through other channels to several regions around the world currently experiencing or brewing conflict, my overall profit will be at least thirty percent higher than this current plan, or even more."

Yusuf was taken aback, his smile slightly retracted, showing a puzzled expression:

"Then why are you...? Dealing with the government involves cumbersome procedures, potential long payment cycles, and various reviews and uncertainties. Black market deals, though price-per-unit may fluctuate, are usually settled in cash, quick entry and exit."

Song Heping did not immediately answer.

His gaze went beyond the high and thick concrete walls and watchtowers of the Green Zone, towards the broader Baghdad City District outside the walls.

"Profit is certainly important, Yusuf."

Song Heping slowly spoke: "But I also know very well that at certain critical moments, in gray areas where rules are hard to reach, a sufficiently weighty 'favor' could be more useful than the equipment of an infantry division. It is a check that can be cashed in the future, a potential influence, a backup key that might open a troublesome door."

Yusuf understood, a trace of awe appearing on his face.

He realized that this Lord Dong before him was plotting something much more long-term and profound than a single arms profit.

He is not merely doing business but is undertaking a long-term risk investment, investing in the chaotic yet full-of-possibilities future political situation of this country, and the potential role he might play in it.

"I understand now..." Yusuf murmured, then smiled again: "It's always educational working with you, Song. So, let's proceed step by step and lay the foundation for this 'favor' in front of us first."

The two parted near the Green Zone entrance, Yusuf returned to the Parliament Building to follow the document process, while Song Heping got into a car with his driver and security personnel and left.

The convoy left the Green Zone, merging back into the noisy and vibrant street traffic of Baghdad, then turned north, heading towards the direction of Mosul.

The scenery outside the car window was like a rapidly playing film.

Song Heping leaned back in his seat, resting his eyes, but his mind did not rest.

The heavy burden of the two and a half billion arms still existed, but at least, he clearly saw a path to transform the most politically sensitive and challenging parts into relatively stable, long-term valuable assets—cash, oil, and most importantly, 'political capital' tied to the core departments of the current government.

This would not only relieve part of the burden but also lay a faint protective net for future activities.

However, he was equally acutely aware that this was just the beginning.

The "principle agreement" reached at the negotiation table in the Green Zone was still separated from the actual delivery of goods and the settling of payments by numerous possible variables.

Those eyes coveting in the shadows would never easily let it go.

Just as the convoy passed through a certain intersection and disappeared on a relatively crowded Main Street, not far away, on the top floor of an unremarkable four-story building, behind a half-open window, the lens of binoculars flashed micro-light and disappeared.

Lemont put down the binoculars, rubbing his somewhat sore eyes.

The safe house he was in had an excellent view, able to observe the main exit of the Green Zone and monitor several main streets.

Ever since the operation in Mosul, being bombarded by Song Heping with mortars, and almost losing his life, Lemont held a deep grudge against this name.

It wasn't just a simple case of mission failure but a disgrace to a professional agent.

Leading over a hundred Delta Force soldiers and more than twenty professional agents, he was taught a lesson by a "civilian contractor" using the most basic infantry firepower.

Now, the opportunity had come.

He was instructed from above to monitor Song Heping's movements, particularly whether his handling of this batch of arms conformed to the contract details.

For Lemont, this was not only a task but also a personal vendetta.

He focused intently on the figure that walked out of the Ministry of Defense, sneering inwardly.

As long as Song Heping committed any violations in handling this batch of arms.

Even the slightest diversion, resale beyond the contract, or contact with unwelcome third parties, he could seize the opportunity.

By then, new grievances and old scores would be settled together!

War has never truly ended.

When the artillery ceased and the smoke cleared, it merely changed form and battlefield.

From trenches of two armies facing off, it had shifted to verbal battles at the negotiation table; from the physical destruction of weapons and ammunition, it transformed into the contest of interests and influence.

And like this, hunting conducted with listening devices in the shadows of the city.