Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 1011 Qin Fei?

thunder.

Song Heping was the deputy battalion commander of the 203rd Special Forces, the most elite unit in China, and also the chief instructor when he participated in the preliminary training.

He was the old superior who had trained him from a green recruit into a true soldier, and also the senior with whom he eventually parted ways by chance.

Although they are now on different paths, Song Heping is well aware of Lei Ming's position—he is now the captain of the 203rd Special Forces, representing the sharpest blade and the inviolable bottom line of the Dragon Kingdom.

Vasily's "multi-star gaze tracking"...

Unit 203 has always been in contact with the nation's most cutting-edge defense technology. As the battalion commander, Lei Ming was naturally aware of its existence and might even have access to related channels or information—but that was top secret and could never be used for private purposes.

Seeking help from Lei Ming is extremely risky, even bordering on madness.

Will Lei Ming help me?
As a high-ranking active-duty military officer with a national mission, how could he possibly risk leaking secrets, getting involved in international disputes, or even harming national interests to help a former subordinate who had drifted overseas and whose actions had long since gone astray?

More likely, it will be rejection, or even...

However, without contacting him, the chances of success are probably less than 30%.

Song Heping couldn't afford to gamble.

That faint hope, like a glimmer of light in the darkness, is something you must reach out and grasp no matter what.

Moreover, he had done things for his old unit in Southeast Asia back then.

Considering this relationship, this matter should be negotiable.

The only sounds in the safe house were the hum of the old fan and his heavy heartbeat.

Time ticked by, but the countdown to the hoopoe's air force attack would not stop.

Finally, he grabbed the inconspicuous, heavily encrypted satellite phone on the table.

This number was a single-line contact method that Lei Ming had left him, intended only for extreme emergencies, representing the last thread of connection that had not been completely severed in the past.

My fingers hovered over the cold keys for a few seconds, with a kind of resolute determination and desperate struggle, almost like confronting fate, before pressing that long string of complex numbers etched deep in my memory.

When the call connected, there was a hissing, encrypted noise on the line.

A few seconds later, a deep, hoarse voice, honed by years of battle, carrying a calm, authoritative tone and a hint of barely perceptible concern, rang out. That voice instantly pulled Song Heping back to the training ground of 203, causing him to instinctively straighten his back:

"Peace?"

Lei Ming's voice carried a sense of confirmation. Without exchanging pleasantries, he directly called him by name. His tone was that of a superior to an old subordinate, but it also carried a weight of experience and an unquestionable authority.

"This emergency channel...you're in big trouble?"

There was no mockery, only a keen insight and implicit scrutiny that went straight to the heart of the matter.

"Captain, it's me." Song Heping took a deep breath, his body subconsciously straightening slightly, as if he were giving a briefing to the battalion commander on the training field: "I've encountered a hurdle, a very tricky one. At sea, we need high-precision 'eyes,' capable of continuous tracking down to the meter level. The target is very hot, and time is of the essence."

His tone was concise and direct, with the reporting style unique to soldiers and absolute respect for his former superiors, while also frankly acknowledging the extreme nature of the predicament.

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone, the hissing of encrypted noise standing out clearly in the quiet.

This brief silence contained immense pressure and judgment. Lei Ming's voice rang out again, steady yet carrying an almost cold scrutiny: "At sea? Continuous tracking at the meter level? And it's a hot potato?... Explain clearly, what is the target? Who exactly have you offended?"

The questions are pointed and cannot be avoided; this is Lei Ming's style, and it is also an inevitable step for him to assess risks and weigh the country's position.

Song Heping knew that any attempt to hide anything from Lei Ming would be futile and foolish: "I've offended Mossad. I wonder if you dare to help me?"

He was concise and to the point, highlighting the crux of the matter and handing the decision-making power entirely over to Lei Ming.

The silence on the other end of the phone grew longer and heavier.

Song Heping could almost picture Lei Ming frowning and deep in thought on the other end of the phone—a complex struggle between a guardian of the nation and a sliver of old friendship.

Finally, Lei Ming's voice rang out, carrying an unquestionable, iron-like seriousness and principle representing the nation's position: "Peace, you should be very clear about my position and what I represent. The Dragon Kingdom must not be involved in this dispute. I cannot, and will never, use national resources or my personal position to help you in any official or unofficial way."

His tone was firm and decisive, leaving no room for negotiation, completely extinguishing Song Heping's illusions of expecting official assistance.

Song Heping's heart sank to the bottom, and his last glimmer of hope was completely shattered.

He was about to say something, even bracing himself for a severe reprimand, when Lei Ming's tone took a very subtle turn after sticking to his absolute principles:

"but…"

Lei Ming's voice seemed to be lowered, carrying an extremely subtle hint, quite different from his earlier statement on behalf of the country.

“There’s someone who might… just might be able to solve your ‘eyes’ problem. There’s a kid named Qin Fei who joined the selection training two years after you and also made it into 203, but later left for… some special reasons. He’s currently in Eritrea and has started his own team, and his methods are… rather unconventional.”

Song Heping was taken aback; he didn't recognize this person.

Judging from Lei Ming's tone, this person participated in the selection training and joined the team, which is different from Lei Ming's situation where he applied to withdraw voluntarily at the end.

Can I exit after entering 203?

"Qin Fei? Captain Lei, you mean...?"

He didn't immediately understand Lei Ming's intention in suddenly mentioning Qin Fei, and was even more confused about the boundary between this private guidance and the previous ironclad national stance.

"Ahem—After he left, he came into contact with a variety of things."

Lei Ming coughed twice meaningfully, his words brief and to the point, his choice of words extremely cautious.

"He may have the kind of 'eyes' or channels you need."

He emphasized “possibility” and “information or channels” rather than direct capabilities or resources.

"I'll give you the number. Whether you can persuade him or not is up to you."

Lei Ming's voice regained its previous composure, but the last sentence carried more weight: "Remember, peace. In times of great crisis, remain calm. The sky won't fall. Take care."

Before the words were finished, a series of numbers were announced on the phone, and then the call abruptly ended, leaving only a busy tone.

Holding the phone, Song Heping listened to the busy tone, momentarily stunned, his mind in turmoil.

Lei Ming's refusal was decisive and thorough, consistent with his status and position as an active-duty battalion commander, leaving no room for illusions.

But that name and number… Qin Fei?

The person who left Unit 203 due to "special reasons"?

Lei Ming, in an extremely private and discreet manner, without ever crossing any red lines, pointed him to a possible path that existed in the gray area.

Countless questions came to my mind.

But time waits for no one, and the hoopoe's bomb won't wait for him to sort out his thoughts.

He looked down at the number he had just written down, a resolute glint in his eyes.

Regardless of whether Qin Feixing is capable or not, this is the only possible path that Lei Ming has pointed out without violating principles.

He took a deep breath, pressed the buttons on the satellite phone again, and dialed the number leading to Eritrea…

at the same time.

Night falls in Khartoum.

The man codenamed "Mole" is outwardly a senior business representative for a European trading company in Sudan, and possesses excellent government relations and diplomatic license plates.

At this moment, he was driving an inconspicuous Toyota Land Cruiser, slowly making his way along the dusty road outside the northeastern industrial zone of Khartoum.

Inside the car, beneath the dashboard, a miniature high-definition camera, disguised as a dashcam, is silently recording the scenery along the way.

He received the highest priority instructions from London, and the cold, authoritative text sent a chill down his spine.

Twelve missing military trucks…

Uncover Song Heping's secret...

Within 12 hours…

The industrial zone is vast, filled with various factories, warehouses, and waste disposal sites. Many areas are poorly managed, and the walls are dilapidated.

Official records here are often just empty words.

Unable to conduct a large-scale search, he could only rely on the most primitive yet effective methods: observation, reasoning, and utilizing his network of local informants that he had cultivated over many years.

He first ruled out large, legitimate military warehouses or government facilities; Song Heping wouldn't be that stupid.

His attention was focused on semi-abandoned factory areas guarded by private security companies, especially those with large enclosed factory buildings or underground spaces.

He looked down, opened his phone, and tapped through the encrypted messages one by one.

Informant A (a middleman who supplies spare parts to multiple factories) reported: Three days ago, an abandoned machinery repair shop near an old slaughterhouse was suddenly taken over by a group of "new security guards." These men were well-equipped, didn't seem to be locals, and strictly prohibited anyone from approaching the large warehouse deep inside the factory premises. They brought in a lot of "large equipment parts," covered with thick tarpaulins, in trucks… they looked like green military trucks?
Informant B (a taxi driver who specializes in driving night shifts in industrial areas) mentioned that in the early hours of the previous night, he took a drunken security guard back to the factory area near the old slaughterhouse. He saw several "big guys" (referring to large trucks) parked at the entrance of a large warehouse deep inside the factory area, with their rear ends facing the warehouse door, as if they were unloading goods. He took a curious look and was then aggressively chased away by the security guard.

Both pieces of information point to the same location—an abandoned “Sudanese heavy machinery repair plant” on the edge of an industrial zone, near a state-run slaughterhouse that has been closed for many years.

The "mole" drove closer to the area.

Instead of driving directly to the target factory gate, he went around to the side of a dirt road piled with construction waste.

He stopped the car, took out a high-definition digital camera with a telephoto lens, and, under the cover of night, peered through the rusty and damaged barbed wire fence surrounding the factory area.

The factory area was overgrown with weeds, and several low office buildings were dilapidated.

But deep inside, the huge, vaulted maintenance warehouse exuded an unusual air of vigilance.

The warehouse door was tightly closed, but a small door next to it for people to enter and exit was open, letting in bright light from inside.

Two camouflage-painted pickup trucks were parked at the entrance, and several guards in civilian clothes, carrying AK rifles and looking alert, patrolled the area.

Their movements and positioning exuded the competence of professional soldiers, far exceeding that of ordinary security guards.

More importantly, the "mole" keenly spotted the outlines of several large vehicles parked in a shadowy open space behind the warehouse.

Although it was mostly covered up with tattered tarpaulins and miscellaneous items, the unique, square front end, the tall cab profile, and the faintly visible military green paint—it was the Ural truck from the intelligence provided by headquarters!
He adjusted the focus, zoomed in, and his heart pounded faster in his chest.

Near the rear wheel of a car, a small piece of canvas was blown up by the wind, revealing a dark green metal component underneath!
The sharply defined structure, the heavy feel of the base…

The mole gasped for breath—

That thing looks exactly like a component of a SAM-6 missile launcher!

I searched high and low without finding it, only to have it come to me effortlessly!

He suppressed his excitement and steadily pressed the shutter button repeatedly, capturing the evidence.

He also noticed that several inconspicuous vents appeared to have been newly installed on the top of the warehouse, one of which had a particular angle and shape…

Does it vaguely resemble a radar base?
Everything points to that dangerous answer.

He didn't linger. He quickly put away his camera, started the car, and quietly drove away from the seemingly heavily guarded area.

After confirming there was no tail, he found a relatively safe corner and prepared to send the photos and detailed text description back to London via an encrypted channel.

However, just as he was organizing the information, his phone vibrated slightly and the screen lit up.

A highly "valuable" piece of intelligence came from an insider he had secretly cultivated, who worked in the Sudanese military's logistics department—

"Regarding the commotion at that abandoned repair shop... don't be too alarmed, buddy. It's a deal that Song Heping and our military high command agreed on a long time ago—a batch of 'air defense systems' to strengthen the air defense around the capital. This convoy's arrival in Khartoum is simply to fulfill the contract handover. Those guards are just for the handover period; they'll be gone in a couple of days."

The informant spoke casually, as if he were discussing a routine official matter.

This "insider information" was like the final piece of the puzzle, instantly providing a reasonable and non-threatening explanation for all the "anomalies" that "the mole" had previously observed—the professional guards, the concealed military trucks, the exposed suspected launcher components, and the newly installed "radar base"!

Song Heping was not carrying out any clandestine operation, but rather fulfilling a sensitive but "normal" arms deal contract!

"I see…"

The "mole's" tense nerves relaxed, and a sense of relief at being misled replaced the previous tension.

He immediately encrypted this crucial information, along with his photographs and observation report, and sent it to London. The report's core conclusion was:
"According to reconnaissance and reliable inside sources, the trucks in the target warehouse did indeed originate from a convoy that left North Darfur. Exposed components of a suspected air defense system were observed. Based on inside intelligence, it was determined that Song Heping and the Sudanese military were fulfilling an established arms purchase contract (SA-6 air defense system) and were in the process of handing over the system. The security measures were temporary handover security. No indication of any special threat to third parties has been found."

　Asking for a monthly ticket! Asking for a monthly ticket! Asking for a monthly ticket!

　　
　
(End of this chapter)