Chapter 1963 - 1432: The Anger of the Loser (Part 3)

Fifteen minutes later, the car returned to the company's office building in the Green Zone.

He pushed open the car door and quickly walked towards the entrance.

As the key was inserted into the lock, the iron door opened from the inside.

Jiang Feng stood behind the door, holding a compact submachine gun in his hand, with the muzzle pointed down, but his finger was on the guard ring, ready to lift it at any time.

"Safe."

Jiang Feng said in a low voice, stepping aside to let Song Heping enter, then quickly closed the door.

Without stopping, the two walked directly towards the hidden door at the back, down a narrow staircase to the basement.

This was the real command center.

Approximately forty square meters of space, soundproof material on the walls, ventilation pipes, and cable trays installed on the ceiling.

On one side were communication devices: three large-screen monitors, various radios, satellite phones, encrypted terminals.

The other side was the work area, with maps spread out on a long table, photos and notes fixed on a whiteboard with magnets.

In the corner was a small armory, with long and short weapons neatly arranged in a gun cabinet.

Two operators were monitoring the screens, nodding in greeting when they saw Song Heping.

"What's the outside situation? Any suspicious activity noticed?" Song Heping asked as he took off his suit jacket.

"Very calm." An operator responded, "Since you left the hotel, no suspicious tailing was found. Eyes at the Green Zone checkpoint report no unusual vehicles followed after you passed. We hacked into three street surveillance nodes, and the footage shows your convoy was the only one entering this area from the Tulip Hotel direction."

Song Heping hung his jacket on the back of a chair, undid the top two buttons of his shirt, and sat down at the long table.

Jiang Feng handed him a bottle of water.

"How was the banquet?" Jiang Feng asked, pulling over another chair to sit down.

"A trap." Song Heping took a sip of water, concise and to the point: "Robbin hosted, Blake, Hansen, Old Tom, Marco were there, and a new face named Curtis West, likely an arms dealer. They're after the batch of sensitive equipment worth three billion, offering a price of one-point-two billion."

Jiang Feng frowned, "One-point-two billion? That batch is worth at least three billion on the market."

"So it's a trap."

Song Heping screwed the cap back on and placed the bottle on the table.

"The low price isn't the focus. The focus is, I suspect they want me to hand the goods to Curtis, then let Curtis ship the goods to a sensitive area for anti-US forces. Once this equipment appears and there's evidence, Lemont can blacklist me again under 'violating agreement by supplying sensitive equipment to potential US adversaries,' completely shutting off our survival space in Illiguo."

Saying this, he suddenly laughed.

"These contractors have deep ties with the CIA, probably Lemont instructed them to do this, moreover, peers as rivals, we've earned big on this business, someone's jealous, not wanting us to continue operating here."

Jiang Feng remained silent.

He stared at the map at Mosul's location.

A few seconds later, he looked up, "You refused?"

"Refused." Song Heping said, "And made it clear. I'm not giving anything, haha."

Jiang Feng quickly asked, "What was their reaction?"

"Blake was furious, Hansen remained calm, Old Tom and Marco said nothing. As for Robbin..."

Song Heping recalled the final sullen face.

"He was angry. Not the surface kind but truly enraged. As I left, he said, 'You will regret this.'

Jiang Feng's brows furrowed further, "So, next they will retaliate."

"Definitely." Song Heping stood up, walked to the whiteboard, looking at the relationship diagram of various forces pasted on it: "For someone like Robbin, face matters more than business. Refusing him in front of so many people tonight was the equivalent of publicly slapping him. He won't let it go easily."

"What will they do?" Jiang Feng stood up as well, walking beside Song Heping, "Direct action? In Illiguo, companies like Black Water and Sparta could easily create an 'accident.'

"Direct action is the last resort." Song Heping picked up a whiteboard marker, drawing a circle around Robbin's name, "Moreover, in Illiguo, we have tens of thousands of troops we can mobilize, they wouldn't dare openly confront us… So, I've been thinking, where could these fools target me…"

"Currently in Illiguo, in direct conflict regardless of which defense company, even if it's Black Water, we can crush them!" Jiang Feng confidently concluded.

It wasn't exaggeration.

Abu You Brigade of Kurd Armed, Samir Department of Iliko Government Army, plus some local tribal forces, all were maneuvered by Song Heping behind the scenes.

A few defense companies, even Black Water and AAFES, in Illiguo, were not on the same level as Song Heping's "Musician" defense.

After a moment of thought, Song Heping put down the pen, turned to Jiang Feng, "We still must be cautious, if not openly, they'll likely come covertly. In the coming month, we must be extremely vigilant."

Jiang Feng said, "Do we need to prepare in advance? Strengthen warehouse security, scatter storage, prepare alternative transport routes…"

"All must be done." Song Heping nodded, "But more importantly, we need to understand their bottom line. Are they trying to force my hand or completely destroy us. If it's the former, there's room to maneuver. If it's the latter…"

He did not continue.

But Jiang Feng understood.

If Robbin and Lemont's goal wasn't to take a share, but to completely crush "Musician" defense, then the upcoming conflict could escalate into a more dangerous level.

It's not commercial competition.

It's a war for survival.

The basement turned silent.

Song Heping sat back down in the chair, crossing his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling.

He was pondering a strategy.

Passive defense is always the worst choice.

Initiative attack is necessary.

But the enemy is in the dark, while we are in the light.

Robbin's net has been woven for over ten years, its roots in Illiguo aren't negligible either.

Just then, the satellite phone in his pocket vibrated.

Not the usual one.

It was the one specially encrypted, known to only a few people.

Song Heping pulled out the phone, glanced at the screen, then stepped into the room, closed the door, and pressed the answer button.

"Song, good evening."

A male baritone came from the other end of the phone.

"Hope I'm not disturbing your rest. It's Simon."