Chapter 1956 - 1429: Feast at Hongmen (Part 3)

"Speak."

"At around six-thirty, a Mercedes G550 with Liben plates entered the hotel using a special pass, without undergoing detailed inspection. The driver and passenger were both Caucasian males, the passenger was around forty-five years old, with dark brown hair, wore rimless glasses, dressed in a dark custom suit, and carried a black leather briefcase. Our external observer managed to capture a blurry photo, which has been sent to Henry's channel for identification."

Song Heping tucked the dagger into the hidden sheath inside his belt, buttoned up his suit, and turned around to check in the mirror.

"A Mercedes G-class with Liben plates, special pass, a suit-clad man with a briefcase." He sneered: "Eight times out of ten, he's an arms dealer. With the Middle East as chaotic as it is, which of those independent arms dealers from Liben Beirut wouldn't want a piece of the pie?"

"Do you need Henry's side to expedite the investigation?" Jiang Feng asked.

"Investigate, but be careful not to alert them." Song Heping straightened his tie one last time: "But even if we find out, it is just a name. The key is what role he plays tonight."

He walked to the window, gently opened a slit in the blinds, and looked out onto the street growing darker.

The street lamps had already been lit, a few vendors set up grills on the street corner, and the smoke and aroma of food floated in the air.

This was an ordinary night scene in Baghdad, but Song Heping knew how much undercurrent was surging beneath this calm facade.

"Old Master Sergeant," Jiang Feng suddenly said: "Tonight's situation is evidently not simple. Robbin, Black Water, Sparta, combined with a mysterious arms dealer, and possibly Lemont lurking in the shadows... I see this is definitely a Hongmen Banquet. Should we find an excuse to cancel? Just say there's an urgent matter and reschedule."

Song Heping turned around and looked at this comrade who had followed him for many years.

The worry on Jiang Feng's face was genuine.

"Cancel?"

He shook his head: "Cancel tonight, and they'll come up with something else tomorrow. Hiding is not a solution. Since they've set the stage, I have to go see what this 'Old Friends' really want to play."

"After I leave, continue the surveillance."

Song Heping patted Jiang Feng on the shoulder.

"Understood." Jiang Feng urged: "Be careful, Old Master Sergeant."

"Don't worry." Song Heping headed towards the door, "It's not the first time anyway."

7:50 PM.

The Toyota Land Cruiser slowly stopped at the side entrance reserved lane of the Tulip Hotel.

The security level here was evidently higher than the main entrance of the Green Zone.

After all, the Green Zone itself is already a layer of filtering, and entering the Tulip Hotel requires another stricter filter.

On each side of the lane stood a fifty-centimeter-high concrete anti-explosion bollard, painted in conspicuous black and yellow stripes.

Four security personnel divided into two groups, standing alertly on either side. They wore the same black tactical uniform, with bulletproof vests printed with "ACS" (Advanced Security Services) on the outside.

The gear was very professional.

M4 carbines equipped with holographic sights and tactical lights, Glock pistols holstered at the waist, and spare magazines and combat knives on the legs.

More important was their stance: feet shoulder-width apart, center of gravity slightly lowered, eyes constantly scanning the surrounding environment, and performing an "observe-assess-decide" cycle every few seconds.

Former Special Forces, Song Heping judged at a glance.

And not ordinary retirees, but veterans who spent several years in private military companies and had seen blood.

Two employees in hotel uniforms approached, but their waists bulged visibly.

One on the left, one on the right, maintaining a safe distance.

"Good evening, sir." The staff member on the left said politely but mechanically: "Please present your invitation proof and prepare for a security inspection."

Song Heping lowered the window, not immediately handing over his credentials, but first scanning the surroundings.

This was a habit he had developed over many years: before entering any controlled area, assess exits, cover, and potential threat points.

The left of the lane was a high wall, the right was the hotel building, the front was an explosion-resistant door, the back was an unobstructed approach.

Not ideal, but tolerable.

He took out the black metal card.

The card was simple, without text, only a small chip embedded in the corner. This was a "VIP card" given to him by Robbin many years ago, theoretically expired when he left Illiguo.

But Song Heping knew, in such places, the card itself wasn't important, what mattered was the power of the cardholder and what permissions this card could trigger in the system.

The staff member accepted the card and took out a handheld scanning device from his waist.

The device, about the size of an old-style phone, lit up with blue light. He placed the card against the scanning area.

A light "beep" sounded.

The screen displayed green verification information.

The staff member glanced down, eyebrows slightly raised, seemingly surprised.

He looked up again at Song Heping, the programmed politeness in his gaze replaced by a hint of genuine respect.

"Welcome back, Mr. Song." He handed back the card with both hands: "Mr. Miller has already instructed, please proceed directly to the independent building in the back garden. The vehicle can be parked in the designated ground space, a waiter will guide you."

"Thank you."

The heavy explosion-resistant door at the side entrance slowly slid open, its hinges emitting a low hydraulic sound.

The Land Cruiser drove into a lane shaded by tall palm trees. The trees were densely planted; their branches and leaves intertwined overhead to form an arcade, almost completely covering the sky.

The lane was paved with exquisite gravel, producing a unique crunching sound under the tires.