Chapter 2000 - 1448: Strength Speaks

In the top-floor suite of the Tulip Hotel, the air seemed solidified.

Lemont stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, overlooking the city of Illiguo under the night sky.

A heavy clinking of a glass was heard from behind.

Lemont turned around and saw Robbin downing the whiskey in one gulp, then smashing the glass onto the oak coffee table.

The amber liquid splattered, leaving a damp mark on the dark wood grain.

"These cowardly fools." Robbin gritted his teeth.

Lemont said nothing. He knew exactly whom Robbin was referring to.

In the past two hours, Robbin had called the leaders of eight tribes.

Those tribal elders who had previously vowed to take a bite out of that fifteen billion dollars worth of arms were now either not answering calls or having their stewards answer with "The elder is resting." The only one who did pick up, Khalid, stammered for three minutes with a central message: Our tribe has decided to accept Mr. Song Heping's peace plan, don't urge us to commit suicide.

"Heh."

Robbin sneered.

He understood very clearly.

Indeed, the fifteen billion dollars worth of arms is tempting enough to make these tribal leaders forget even their ancestors.

But those old foxes are clever; over eight hundred of Dulaimi Tribe's armed personnel were wiped out within an hour. If before these tribal forces only heard about how formidable Song Heping was, now they've deeply realized how formidable Song Heping truly is.

Arms are tempting, but no one wants to put their life on the line.

"That old bastard Khalid," Robbin gritted his molars: "He previously assured that he'd make sure Song Heping's arms wouldn't make it to Baghdad, and now… he won't even dare answer the phone."

Lemont walked to the liquor cabinet, pouring himself a glass of soda water.

He wasn't like Robbin, who liked to anesthetize himself with alcohol during emotional fluctuations.

"They have no choice." Lemont said calmly: "ISIS has been crippled, the government army remains inactive in the south, the north is essentially a power vacuum. Whoever has guns calls the shots, and now Song Heping has guns, and a lot of them."

Robbin suddenly stood up, walking to the window to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Lemont.

His shadow cast on the glass, blending with the night scene outside.

"Fifteen billion."

Robbin repeated the number, as if savoring its weight.

"How much does our company make annually in Illiguo? What makes him, Song Heping, that yellow-skinned monkey, capable of earning this much?"

Lemont sipped his soda water, remaining silent.

He knew Robbin wasn't wrong, but the logic behind it was more complex.

This arms deal was nominally a procurement from the Illiguo Ministry of Defense, but everyone knew who was really behind it.

Even the CIA could only watch this deal being completed.

That's why Robbin resorted to unscrupulous tactics, attempting to force Song Heping to concede most of the business.

Didn't expect Song Heping not only to dismiss these tactics but to directly strike back.

Now it's bad.

Robbin is being roasted on fire.

Backing down from Song Heping would tarnish AAFES's reputation.

Facing off with him…

No one is confident they can take down Song Heping.

At least in Illiguo, it seems the government army, Kurd Armed, 1515 Remnant, and tribal forces are all eager to forge ties with Song Heping, let alone oppose him.

This is the strongman's effect.

"Any news from the Illiguo Ministry of Defense?" Robbin asked.

"Still going through procedures." Lemont replied: "This batch of equipment has already arrived in Baghdad, being inventoried. The Ministry of Defense's acceptance team is in place, expected to complete the handover within a week."

Robbin's fingers lightly tapped on the glass.

The rhythm urgent and chaotic, like his heartbeat at that moment.

"A week…" he murmured.

Just then, the suite's door was knocked.

"Come in." Lemont said.

Entering was Robbin's assistant, a young man in his thirties, named Mayers.

He wore a dark suit, his tie impeccably neat, but his eyes carried a hint of uncontainable excitement.

"Sir, there's new intelligence." Mayer walked to Robbin's side and whispered.

Robbin frowned: "Speak."

Mayer glanced at Lemont.

Robbin waved his hand: "Mr. Lemont is one of us."

Mayer nodded, then said: "We just received news from Baghdad. Song Heping will be going to the United States next week, the ticket is booked."

Robbin's body stiffened slightly.

"What?" He turned, stared at Mayer: "He's going to the US? For what?"

"Specific purpose is still unclear." Mayer said: "But we intercepted a call from Song Heping's company to the US Embassy's commercial office in Illiguo, inquiring about visa matters. They're applying for a business visa, destination Washington."

Robbin's eyes narrowed.

Lemont also set down his soda water; the intelligence indeed came as a surprise.

Song Heping heading to the US?

At this time?

"Is the information reliable?" Lemont asked.

"From the commercial office." Mayer said: "Visa application materials include copies of Song Heping's passport, travel itinerary, and the inviting party is a trade company registered in Delaware named 'Crescent International.'"

Robbin and Lemont exchanged glances.

"Check this company." Robbin said.

"Already checked." Mayer was prepared, pulled a tablet from his suit pocket, bringing up a document.

"Registered last year, address is a law office in Wilmington, legal representative is an American named James Han, status lawyer. This company has no business records in the past year, nor tax records, it's a typical shell company. I suspect there's a problem with this company."