Chapter 1958 - 1430: Feast at Hongmen (Part 2)

This is an enormous space exceeding 150 square meters, with a ceiling height of five meters, divided into three functional areas:

The left side is a spacious meeting area, with three sets of dark brown leather sofas arranged in a semicircle, and a huge Persian carpet in the center with a low table placed on it.

On the table are several crystal glasses and an opened bottle of whiskey.

The right side is a formal dining area, with a long solid wood table that can accommodate twelve people, covered with a snowy white linen tablecloth, and set with a full set of silver cutlery and bone china plates.

The centerpiece is a three-tiered silver candelabra, with candles already lit, casting a gentle glow over the tabletop.

The innermost part is a small bar area, with dozens of bottles of various liquors displayed in the wine cabinet, and a bartender in a white shirt and black vest behind the bar, polishing glasses.

The entire south-facing wall is made of floor-to-ceiling glass, with a private terrace outside furnished with wicker tables and chairs.

From there, one can overlook the entire garden and the distant twinkling lights of the Green Zone.

In addition to the previous aroma of wood and coffee, the air now carries the scent of cigar smoke and a certain expensive perfume's undertone.

The private room already had people inside.

Robbin was the first to move.

He got up from the sofa in the meeting area, beaming, with open arms, and walked briskly over, as if he had met a long-lost bosom friend.

"Song! Welcome, welcome! It's so great that you could come!"

He was wearing a suit, his light blue shirt unbuttoned at the collar, with no tie, appearing casual yet deliberate.

His hair was neatly combed, and his face bore an enthusiastic yet measured smile, a product of practice.

Song Heping gave him a brief hug, with very light body contact, separating as soon as they touched.

He noticed the mixed scents on the other person.

A faint woody cologne, the lingering notes of whiskey, and a hint of sweat.

Despite the ample air conditioning, some people sweat when they're nervous.

"Robbin, long time no see."

Song Heping smiled.

In the moment of the embrace, his gaze swiftly scanned the other people in the room, completing the first evaluation.

Four men sat on the sofa and all stood up at that moment.

On the far left was Blake—the Director of the Iraq Operations at Black Water Company.

A former member of the Marine Corps Force Reconnaissance Unit, he participated in the early actions of the Gulf War and Iraq War.

Bald, with scars on his scalp, his physique was robust like a wall, with shoulder widths nearly 1.5 times that of an average person.

He wore khaki tactical casual pants and a dark blue polo shirt, maintaining his military demeanor even in such a setting.

He nodded at Song Heping, his expression not quite friendly, more like assessing a piece of equipment needing evaluation.

Next to him was Hansen—the Regional Manager of Spartan Defense Company, a British-backed PMC known for professionalism and discretion.

With blonde hair, he was in his forties, his hairline beginning to recede but still neatly combed.

He wore a well-tailored gray suit, a light blue shirt, and a dark gray tie.

His face carried that Nordic calm expression, almost indifferent.

He extended his hand and shook hands with Song Heping, with moderate strength, and a perfect three-second duration before releasing.

The entire process was like completing a standardized procedure.

The third was Old Tom—the Logistics Project Manager at KBR Company.

Around sixty, with graying sparse hair, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, a slightly protruding belly, and a slightly loose dark blue suit.

He smiled genially, shaking Song Heping's hand slightly longer, appearing more 'enthusiastic'.

"Song, we are all glad to hear you've returned."

Lastly was Marco—the representative from MVM Company. Around fifty, his slick hair combed back meticulously. Wearing a light beige suit and pink shirt, unbuttoned at the collar with two buttons open, exposing a bit of chest hair.

His expansive smile was somewhat exaggerated, opening his arms in an Italian-style warm embrace with Song Heping, exchanging cheek kisses, a strong perfume scent wafting over.

"My dear friend! It's been too long!"

They were all familiar faces.

Song Heping greeted each of them, maintaining just the right expressions.

A nod of respect to Blake, professional courtesy to Hansen, humility of a junior to a senior with Old Tom, and a ceremonious warm response to Marco.

But in his mind, he was quickly evaluating:

Blake represented the pure force faction.

Black Water's core business was armed security, personnel training, and escorting in high-risk areas.

They needed heavy weaponry, armored vehicles, and individual equipment.

Blake himself was typical of the 'political power comes from the barrel of a gun' mindset—direct, brutal, but often effective.

Hansen was professional faction.

Spartan Defense leaned more towards technical solutions.

Drone surveillance, electronic reconnaissance, cyber security, and risk assessment.

They needed high-tech equipment and intelligence support. Hansen himself was calm, rational, adept at calculating risk-reward ratios.

Old Tom was the logistics supply chain.

KBR didn't do combat operations, but they provided nearly thirty percent of the US Army's logistics support in Iraq: camp construction, food supply, transport fleet, and fuel provision.

They needed stable contracts and safe transport routes.

Old Tom appeared kind, but to reach regional manager status in a giant like KBR, he was certainly not simple.

Marco...

This man was the most complex.

MVM was nominally a defense company, but it was known in the industry for its intricate ties with Italian Intelligence Agency (AISE).

Their business scope ranged from legitimate security training to gray intelligence gathering, with rumors of involvement in certain "special operations".

Marco himself always wore a smiling face, his speech was smooth, but Song Heping remembered during the crisis with the US CIA, Marco was the first to cut off all ties with 'Musician' Defense.

Besides these four, there was another person standing in the corner of the room.

It was an unfamiliar face.

Approximately forty years old, his dark brown hair is neatly combed, with hints of grey at the temples.

Wearing a dark blue tailored suit, expertly cut, the fabric shimmering subtly under the lights.

This guy is holding a glass of champagne, standing relaxed yet upright, smiling towards us, with just the right amount of curiosity and politeness in his eyes.

He looks more like a Wall Street merger and acquisition lawyer than someone who would appear in such a setting.

Robbin noticed Song Heping's gaze and immediately waved, "Ah, and here's a new friend! Song, let me introduce you—"

He walked over, draping his arm over the stranger's shoulder, bringing him in front of Song Heping.

"—Mr. Curtis, a very… energetic international trade expert. Curtis, this is the legendary contractor from Eligo, Mr. Song Heping, our guest of honor tonight, and the most talked-about figure in the defense circles lately. The story about the 2.5 billion arms deal, I think you've heard of it."

Curtis took a half step forward and extended his hand.

"Mr. Song, I've heard so much about you."

His English was very fluent, but with a barely noticeable accent.

"Robbin often mentions you, saying you're one of the most noteworthy figures in Baghdad. It's my honor to meet you."

"You flatter me." Song Heping responded calmly, his gaze lingering on Curtis's face for a moment: "Is this Mr. Curtis's first time in Baghdad?"

"No, I come often." Curtis smiled: "It's just that my business is rather… discreet, so I don't appear in public much. I've known Robbin for many years, and have had pleasant collaborations with Blake, Hansen, and the others."

His words were quite skillful:

First, "come often" indicates he's not a novice, familiar with the rules here.

Second, "business discreet" is both humble and a hint that some business can't be put on the table.

Third, "have had collaboration with everyone" simultaneously shows he isn't new while implying his connections with everyone present, adding a layer of mystery to himself.

Anyone accepted by Black Water, Sparta, KBR, MVM isn't just an ordinary "trade expert".

Song Heping sensed the alarm bells ringing lightly in his mind.

A discreet "international trade expert" with connections to all major contractors?

In this context, in Eligo, in the private suite at the Tulip Hotel, at a dinner carefully arranged by Robbin…

Almost certainly an arms dealer.

And the kind who deals in highly sensitive, high-profit trade.

Because, a small-time player wouldn't even make it into this room.

"Looks like tonight's gathering is indeed a meeting of the minds."

Song Heping said finally, his gaze sweeping over everyone, conveying more than just words: "Robbin, you've gone to great lengths."

"All for old friends!" Robbin clapped his hands, his voice full of delight: "Everyone, don't just stand around, sit, sit! Dinner is ready, we can eat and chat, just like before."

The guests moved to the dining area.

A long table, sufficient to accommodate twelve people, had been set, draped with a snow-white linen tablecloth, adorned with exquisite porcelain and silver cutlery.

A set of silver candlestick holders stood in the center, candles already lit, casting a soft glow on everyone's faces.

The dishes were standard French cuisine, from appetizers to the main course, each delicately crafted like a work of art.

There were only two waiters, moving quietly and swiftly to serve the dishes.

Song Heping glanced at the appetizer that was served.

Foie gras accompanied by figs and Porter wine jelly, paired with a 2004 Dijon Winery sweet white dessert wine.

"I remember you like foie gras, Song." Robbin raised his glass: "The French chef of this hotel was specially invited by me from Paris, with ingredients air-shipped twice a week. Try it, is it still the same as before?"

Song Heping took a bite.

Indeed top-notch, delicate and rich, the sweet wine perfectly balanced the greasy feel.

But at this moment, his attention wasn't on the food.

After a round of drinks, the conversation began to unfold aimlessly.

Blake complained about the recent inefficiencies of the Eligo Security Forces, Hansen talked about an attack incident he encountered in Afghanistan, and Old Tom was discussing the rising cost of logistics transportation.

Marco kept talking about his new villa and yacht in Rome, Curtis occasionally interjected, his tone relaxed, yet always managing to seamlessly connect with the topic, showcasing his broad knowledge and social skills.

Song Heping didn't say much, merely listening, observing.

He could feel that everyone's gaze inadvertently fell upon him.

Those seemingly casual chats were actually setting the stage, probing, building an atmosphere.

Finally, when the seared cod with white wine sauce and autumn truffle main course was served, Robbin finally broached the main topic.

He set down his knife and fork, sighed, looked at Song Heping, his expression "sincere" yet slightly heavy: "Song, to be honest, that matter back then… we all felt regret. You had the falling out with the CIA, which forced you to leave Baghdad. Actually, in private, everyone believed it was a misunderstanding, you contributed quite a bit to stability here."

Here it comes.

Song Heping smirked inwardly, his expression unreadable: "It's all in the past."

"But it was unfair to you." Robbin shook his head: "We all know what kind of person you are. A professional contractor, an honest businessman. Those allegations… were too far-fetched. Unfortunately, at that time, us friends couldn't offer much help."

He paused, looking around at the others, "Isn't that so, everyone?"

Blake snorted: "The bureaucrats in the intelligence agency never understand those working on the front line like us."

Hansen nodded: "Indeed, the situation back then was very complicated."

Old Tom and Marco also chimed in, expressing "sympathy" and "regret".

Song Heping listened quietly, waiting for them to finish before speaking slowly: "What matters is the present."

"Well said!" Robbin immediately followed up, returning to a smile: "What matters is the present! Song, you're back now, and we heard you landed a huge deal."

He leaned forward slightly, lowered his voice, as if sharing a secret.

"We've all heard about it, the arms deal… 2.5 billion. My God, that's simply astronomical."

The suite fell silent for a moment.

Everyone was looking at Song Heping.

Here it comes.

Finally, it's here.

Song Heping smirked inwardly.

What return of old friends, damn it, they're all focused on my arms deal!