Chapter 1976 - 1437: Military Camp Meeting_2

Safar's eyes lit up with the soldier's innate desire for top-tier equipment: "All of it? Twenty-four hours? The deal's not finished, and you're giving it to me?"

"The first batch, ten M-ATVs and fifteen Hummers, will arrive at your base in Taji Military Camp before sunset tomorrow," Song Heping precisely stated. "The rest will be delivered in two batches, all within seventy-two hours. But there's a condition—"

"Go ahead," Safar immediately became serious.

"This batch of equipment can only be used for 'Desert Eagle' training and operations, and can't be transferred, sold, or appear in any unofficial records."

Song Heping's gaze was as sharp as a knife.

"Safar, I've inquired about your character and quite admire you, I've definitely decided to be friends with you, but business is business. There's an old saying back home—play the scoundrel before the gentleman. Some things I must clarify: if any piece of equipment ends up on the black market or in the hands of terrorists, all cooperation between us stops immediately, and you'll become my enemy. You understand the consequences, right?"

Out of habit, Safar touched the grip of his gun at his waist, a reflex action in times of tension: "I swear by my family's honor, this won't happen. Every soldier in 'Desert Eagle' has been rigorously vetted, and they—"

"How much is family honor worth in front of fifty thousand dollars in cash?" Song Heping interrupted, his voice calm but unquestionable: "Safar, I've seen a government army colonel in Siria sell brand new tanks to the opposition at scrap iron prices, and a Special Forces commander in Libya sell anti-tank missiles to extremist organizations. In the face of desire, honor and loyalty are fragile."

The car fell into a brief silence, broken only by the engine's low rumble and the air-conditioning's breeze.

"Then what do you want me to do?" Safar eventually asked, with a hint of frustration in his voice.

"Implement double-layer supervision." Song Heping said: "All equipment must be counted, signed, and photographed by both you and my representative at your camp during storage. Each unit must have two or more signatures upon receiving equipment, and there will be a weekly surprise inspection to verify equipment numbers and actual inventory. I'll send three people to join 'Desert Eagle,' officially as equipment maintenance consultants, but actually responsible for supervision."

Safar's face changed slightly: "You're planting spies in my troops?"

"I'm protecting our mutual interests," Song Heping corrected: "If equipment is lost, not only I am affected, but also you and your uncle's political futures. Just think, if Hashimi's people find out 'Desert Eagle's Stinger Missiles are with Hezbollah, can Minister Rashim still hold his position?"

Those words hit the mark.

Safar nodded silently, looking at Song Heping with a complex gaze.

This Lord Dong can always see through three layers and think five steps ahead.

Seeing his silence, Song Heping reassured him: "Don't worry, this is a temporary supervision mechanism. Once the deal is completed, after a year, my people will withdraw and the equipment will be entirely yours."

The car drove past a grove of burned olive trees, the charred trunks like countless arms reaching hopelessly toward the sky.

The silhouette of Mosul began to appear on the distant horizon—a shattered skyline, some barely standing high-rises, and ubiquitous ruins.

Safar suddenly lowered his voice, leaning closer to Song Heping: "Song, I've heard... in your shipment, there are some 'goodies' not on the list?"

Song Heping's heart tensed imperceptibly in an instant, but his facial expression showed no change: "What goodies?"

"Don't play dumb," Safar's smile was filled with cunning: "Stinger Block II anti-aircraft missiles, Javelin anti-tank systems, Spring Blade 300 loitering munitions... and those latest four-eyed panoramic night-vision goggles. The Ministry of Defense's purchase list doesn't have these, but I have my sources."

The air inside the car seemed to freeze for a few seconds.

The driver glanced through the rearview mirror but quickly looked away.

This was survival wisdom, knowing what to see and what not to see.

"Your sources are quite informed," Song Heping said lightly, "But let me correct one thing: the total value of those pieces of equipment is about three hundred and twenty million US Dollars, indeed not part of the Ministry of Defense contract. They have... other disposal plans."

"What plans?" Safar pursued, eyes shining with desire: "Song, we're partners, we're friends. 'Desert Eagle' could fully control Mosul's surrounding low-altitude airspace with a few sets of Stinger systems."

"Not possible now," Song Heping interrupted decisively: "Safar, those are 'sensitive weapons,' strictly regulated on the international arms trade list. Without a legitimate export license and end-user certificate, I can't hand them to anyone, including you."

He couldn't speak plainly.

In the past, regardless of what arms they were, selling was selling, only looking at the profit.

But now too many eyes were secretly watching, couldn't let greed cloud judgment.

"I could have my uncle issue documents—" Safar pressed urgently: "Surely..."

"Your uncle's signature is useless, authorization documents require approval from the United States Department of State," Song Heping shook his head: "And Americans would never agree to hand Stinger Missiles to Illiguo's Special Forces, in this kind of chaotic situation, they're worried these weapons would end up in Persia or Siria. It's a red line that cannot be crossed."

Safar's face darkened.

Song Heping knew what he was thinking.

Power, strength, and the combat advantage those missiles could bring.

In Illiguo, possessing anti-air capabilities meant gaining some degree of autonomy, no longer entirely dependent on the United States or the Alliance Army's aerial support.