Chapter 2001 - 1448: Strength Speaks

Robbin took the tablet and quickly skimmed through the information on it. His fingers glided over the screen, a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

"A shell company, inviting a mercenary leader to Washington," Robbin muttered to himself, "Who's behind this company?"

Lemont walked over to Robbin's side, also looking at the screen.

His mind was racing, analyzing various possibilities.

"Strange..." Lemont said, "What's that yellow-skinned monkey doing in the US now? He has no business over there..."

Robbin did not answer.

He looked out the window, a slight smile slowly appearing at the corner of his mouth.

"Lemont." He suddenly said, "What do you think... if something happened to Song Heping in the US, what would happen?"

Lemont was silent for a moment, then said, "Song Heping's identity is just a merchant, what could happen?"

"Exactly." Robbin said, "A merchant encounters an accident in the US, even if he's a Dong nationality, it's at most a consular dispute, it won't escalate to the national level. Besides, these things happen every day in the US, car accidents, robberies, accidents... there are many possibilities."

Lemont looked at Robbin, suddenly feeling a bit cold inside.

He had known Robbin for over a decade, knowing how ruthless this seemingly gentle contractor was at heart.

"Robbin." Lemont lowered his voice, "You want to act on US soil? It's too risky."

"Risk?" Robbin said softly, "Lemont, we take risks every day. Today, these tribal chiefs don't answer my calls, tomorrow more tribes will align with Song Heping. The day after, the entire northern Illigo will become that Lord Dong's sphere of influence. How far will his reach extend after that? Siria, Jordan? Do you want to see that day?"

Lemont did not speak.

Robbin walked to the liquor cabinet, pouring himself another glass of whiskey.

This time he didn't drink it all at once, but held it, gently swirling it.

"Song Heping is a person..." Robbin continued, "Hard to shake in Illigo's view."

Robbin walked to the window, standing side by side with Lemont.

"So, here he thrives." His voice lowered: "But if he goes to the US, there he's out of his element, it's a good opportunity."

Lemont was silent for a long time.

He felt there was some truth to what Robbin said.

His intuition told him that this matter seemed not as simple as Robbin thought, but he couldn't pinpoint what was wrong.

"That company that invited him." Lemont said, "Still needs to be investigated, I'll send people to check it out, see what kind of background it has, able to invite Song Heping to the US, and Song Heping actually willing to go, the people behind this company aren't simple."

Robbin laughed.

"Who cares who he is, Song Heping goes to the US, they'll send people to pick him up at the airport, arrange a hotel, then, one day, Mr. Song Heping will meet with an unfortunate accident. Robbery? Car accident? Sudden illness? All are possible. Mayers, which do you think is best?"

Mayers swallowed.

He glanced at Robbin, then at Lemont, finally saying softly: "Car accidents are more common, easier to orchestrate."

Robbin nodded.

"Then a car accident." He said, "Over 30,000 people die in car accidents in the US every year, one more, one less, it doesn't matter. Mayers, you're in charge of this, find reliable people, don't use station resources, leave no traces."

Mayers hesitated: "Sir, this is on US soil, if things blow up, the FBI will surely get involved..."

Robbin looked at him, his gaze as calm as a still lake.

"Mayers." He said softly, "Do you think I made this decision on impulse?"

Mayers dared not speak.

Robbin turned, looking out the window.

"I've been risking my life for the company in the Middle East for nearly twenty years."

He said: "In Beirut, I watched my colleague's body dragged across the street. In Kabul, I hid in the embassy basement listening to explosions outside. In Mosul, the 1515 cut off my informant's head, posted the video online. I've seen a lot of death, and caused a lot of death."

His voice was calm, as if recounting someone else's story.

"But all of those, they had a common point, those deaths had meaning. They protected our company's interests, so all the risks were worth it."

He turned to look at Mayers.

"Now, Song Heping going to the US is a heaven-sent opportunity. If we don't seize it, not even God will forgive us."

Mayers was silent for a moment, then nodded: "I understand, sir."

"Go." Robbin waved his hand, "Report any progress immediately."

Mayers turned and left the suite.

The sound of the door closing was very light, but in the quiet room, it was particularly clear.

The next morning, Baghdad, Green Zone, Iraq Defense Ministry Building.

Song Heping was coming here for the third time.

Previously coming here, the officials he encountered always treated him lukewarmly, with a bureaucratic attitude, their eyes always carrying an undisguised disdain.

But today was different.

"Boss, we've arrived."

The car slowly stopped at the entrance of the building, the driver turned and said softly.

Song Heping nodded, pushing the car door open.

His two bodyguards followed behind him, both were former Special Forces, with extraordinary skills.

At the third checkpoint, an Iraq officer carefully checked Song Heping's documents, then saluted: "Mr. Song, please follow me. The Minister is waiting for you in the office."