Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 1035 So what if I threaten you?
"Boss."

Henry suddenly found Song Heping in the command post.

"This is the latest intelligence briefing. Take a look; there's something interesting."

"You all go ahead and get busy, just follow my instructions."

Song Heping took the briefing but did not open it immediately. Instead, he waved to several senior commanders of Haftar's forces, signaling them to leave.

"General, you stay."

He called out to Haftar, who was also leaving.

"If I'm not mistaken, this is international intelligence resources regarding the situation in Lebanon."

As he spoke, he looked at Henry.

Henry nodded: "That's right, the Americans have withdrawn, but Britain and France seem to be getting restless."

Song Heping opened the folder, quickly browsed through it, and then handed it to Haftar.

"Just as I expected, you see, General."

Haftar took the briefing and opened it, but his brows furrowed after reading half of it.

The briefing stated that key British and French officials have been in close contact recently, and information obtained from reliable sources suggests that the two countries are paying close attention to the situation in Lebanon and are very likely to intervene jointly.

"If Britain and France join forces..."

Haftar couldn't help but worry, "It'll probably be very troublesome... especially since they can organize air forces to fly over the Mediterranean to bomb us, attack the coastal areas we control, assist Saif's counter-offensive... and even..."

He looked up at Song Heping: "It's also possible that we can provide arms support."

"I'm not worried about military support."

Song Heping walked to the table, sat down in his chair, and casually picked up the teacup to take a sip of strong tea.

"Given the Jebtie incident, I reckon both Britain and France will consider whether they want to gamble on their luck."

Song Heping was confident.

This is not surprising at all.

Last time he cashed in $1.5 billion.

This is a huge sum of money.

But for Song Heping now, it's just a drop in the ocean.

He could put up another 1.5 billion to gamble on the audacity of Britain and France.

It should be understood that a country's military transport ships secretly delivering weapons to war-torn regions is a violation of the UN arms embargo.

Although the five philanthropists often didn't take UN rules seriously, they still had some sense of shame.

Just two weeks ago, the media frenzy sparked by the bombing of the USS Marlin was still fresh in everyone's mind, as it cost the Democratic Party its midterm election victory.

Affected by various unfavorable factors, the Democratic Party lost the midterm elections.

The opposing Elephant Party won at least 52 Senate seats, defeating the Donald Party to become the majority party and achieving its goal of regaining control of the Senate after eight years.

The Donkey Party has only 43 seats left.

In the House of Representatives election, the Elephant Party secured a solid lead with 224 seats over the Democratic Party's 142 seats.

In America's gubernatorial election, the Elephant Party won 20 gubernatorial seats, while the Donald Party only won 5, a defeat that can only be described as a crushing defeat.

Therefore, for old European powers like Britain and France, whether or not to provide assistance to the warlord Saif when he pleaded for help was always weighed on their own interests.

And it is the only standard.

Once they feel that this matter may affect their power and interests, then Saif is nothing more than a discarded shoe to them.

What about anti-dictatorship, what about humanity, what about justice?

That's all nonsense.

"But what if they launch an airstrike..."

Henry expressed his concerns.

"Air raid?" Song Heping stroked his chin. "They should have known about the hoopoe's ordeal in the Mediterranean last time, right?"

"That time there was an element of surprise involved. If they had come prepared..." Henry remained cautious: "Our SAM-6 is also difficult to deal with..."

That hits the nail on the head.

Song Heping knew perfectly well whose credit it was for successfully intercepting the hoopoe's F-15I last time.

If another air raid were to be carried out in the same manner, would I have to call Team Lei again to ask for help?
This makes you look like a little kid who only knows how to cry and beg his parents to step in.

Song Heping has been independent and strong-willed since childhood. He would never do something like this unless absolutely necessary.

"Um……"

Song Heping fell into deep thought.

"Leave this to me."

He turned to Haftar: "Your most important responsibility now is to fight well and continue to advance westward. Only by taking Tripoli can we achieve an initial victory. You don't need to worry about anything else."

"Henry."

He turned to his intelligence chief.

"I need more detailed intelligence on the Anglo-French contacts, quickly, and with plenty of money. Use those informants you've been bribing. I need to know their contact timeline and the general progress of the negotiations."

"Okay, boss, I'll take care of this."

Song Heping always provided ample funding for the company's intelligence department.

The emperor doesn't starve his soldiers.

Song Heping understood this principle all too well.

Therefore, Henry would rather go against the intelligence agencies of his own country than be completely loyal to Song Heping.

For Henry.

Song Heping was completely trusted.

He knew this Englishman.

He worked diligently and conscientiously in the naval intelligence department for more than 20 years, and was seconded to other intelligence departments such as MI6 several times to participate in special operations due to his outstanding professional skills.

In the end, he didn't get a promotion, and when he retired, his meager retirement pay was barely enough to make ends meet in London. He was forced to go to Africa to work as an intelligence broker to survive.

Anyone would be resentful.

“Tonight,” Henry assured him again, “the briefing will be on your desk by nine o’clock.”

Song Heping grinned and said, "I trust you to handle things."

……

Paris, on the banks of the Seine, the headquarters of the French Directorate General for External Security (DGSE).

The atmosphere in the office of Charles, the head of the Africa Division of DGSE, who had just returned from Africa a few days earlier, was as heavy as if a storm was about to break.

On the enormous desk lay a newly released briefing on the situation in North Africa, its depiction of Haftar's forces advancing alarmingly.

Charles leaned back in the large leather chair, the cigar between his fingers long since extinguished, the wisps of smoke mirroring his troubled state of mind.

The satellite phone suddenly rang, breaking the deathly silence in the room.

The number displayed on the screen was one that Ciel knew all too well.

He took a deep breath, answered the phone, and deliberately kept his voice steady: "Mr. Song? What a rare guest. You haven't contacted me for a long time. What's wrong? You've taken Savinnu. You're making great strides now. In another month or so, I reckon the whole of Lebia will be yours. Congratulations."

Charles's tone carried a hint of sarcasm. The two had worked closely together on the coup attempt in the Republic of Seine.

However, in the matter of Lebia, the distinction between friend and foe is not yet clear.

The British, Americans, and people from the country of the hoopoe are all at odds with Song Heping.

However, the cunning French have maintained a neutral stance, merely observing the situation.

Xia Er knew that Song Heping was not someone to be trifled with.

In several reports to headquarters, he advised his superiors not to get involved in the mess.

However, recently the British have come knocking on our door.

Their lobbyists seemed to have persuaded their superiors.

Recent work seems to be leaning towards cooperating with the British and intervening in the Lebanese civil war. After all, the French have a significant stake in Lebanon, and Saif has always been very supportive of French interests there.

Charles wanted to contact Song Heping to discuss intervening in the interests of the French in Lebia, but his old colonial mentality made him reluctant to back down.

How could someone as high-ranking as the head of the Africa Division of GDSE have to beg a mercenary leader to share the pie with him and leave him some meat?

Does France even care about its reputation?

On the other end of the phone, Song Heping's voice sounded very relaxed, as if he were catching up with an old friend.

“Mr. Charles, the gunfire will never truly cease; it will only rise in a different place. Savinnu is over, and the landscape of Lebia has been rewritten. I think it’s time to talk about the future.”

"future?"

Charles felt a surge of secret joy at first, then tensed up again.

Song Heping is no cute little lamb.

That was a true mercenary leader, a ravenous wolf.

Based on years of analysis of his past behavior, this person is extremely determined, decisive, and has outstanding military talent and insight. Once you provoke him, it's like stepping barefoot on caltrops, which will make you wince in pain.

"Your future, or Lebia's future? Or... our French future?"

"Aren't the three closely related?"

Song Heping's tone carried a sense of absolute certainty, "I'm calling to give you and our friends in Paris a guarantee and a suggestion. The guarantee is this: if I ultimately take over Lebia, France's interests in Lebia—oil contracts, historical debts, and cultural influence—will be respected and protected. There is no fundamental conflict of interest between us."

Charles did not respond immediately, but his fingers tapped the table unconsciously.

Song Heping's carrot is tempting, but it will inevitably be followed by a big stick.

"What are your suggestions?"

Charles's voice turned somber.

"The advice is this: ask the French government, and your friends in London, to abandon any illusions about Saif and any form of support."

Song Heping's voice suddenly turned cold, like the Siberian wind.

"He is already a pawn discarded by the Americans, a sinking ship. Continuing to invest resources in him will not only result in a complete loss, but will also make him our enemy."

Charles's breath hitched slightly.

The voice on the other end of the phone was calm, yet every word carried immense weight, revealing the cold logic of naked geopolitical maneuvering:

“Charles, you’re a smart man. You French should know very well what I mean in Central and North Africa right now. The British can only watch with envy as the iron and diamond mines of the Republic of Seine are now owned by me. Who did they rely on? I was the one who put you on the cusp of success. I can drive the British away and let you monopolize the profits…”

Song Heping paused deliberately, making the threat even more pronounced.

"Of course, if the French insist on standing against me and supporting Saif, this dead fish, then I can easily remove you French from certain key positions in Central and North Africa and bring the British back. Or... to be more direct, I will install a more obedient regime that is entirely in my interests. Guess what will happen to France's oil fields, mines, and military bases in the Seine then?"

Charles gripped the phone tightly.

A surge of anger, feeling offended, rushed to his head.

His family has served France for generations; when have they ever been threatened so blatantly?

A surge of anger welled up inside me.

However, as the head of the Africa Division of the DGSE, his years of experience in intelligence work had cultivated his rationality, which forced him to suppress the rebuke that was about to spill out.

Reason told him that Song Heping was not bluffing.

This "ghost" that crawled out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood now wields a large military force and controls most of Lebanon's territory and its oil lifeline.

Moreover, he has his own territory and military bases in North Darfur and Seine, with more than 10,000 mercenaries under his command, who are well-equipped, well-funded, and whose influence has long spread throughout the Sahel region.

Should we confront him head-on?
That would be a disaster for France's influence in Africa.

These days, the French are already overwhelmed by the ever-changing situation in Africa and the growing awareness of the African people. Not only that, they also have to guard against their so-called "allies," the Americans and the British, stabbing them in the back and squeezing them out of their traditional sphere of influence. And if they were to fall out with a crazy and capable mercenary leader...

It seems like this deal is a losing proposition no matter how you look at it.

"Mr. Song."

Charles's voice sounded somewhat stiff as he tried to control himself. "I will convey your... 'suggestion' to Paris as it is. But the decisions of the French Republic will not be based solely on the threats of any one person."

"Of course it's not a threat, my old friend."

Song Heping's voice returned to calm, even carrying a faint hint of amusement, as if the chilling threat from just moments ago had never been uttered.

"It's a cost-benefit analysis. It's a realistic choice. I believe your government will make a wise decision that aligns with France's long-term interests. After all, the African sun is fair, shining on friends and enemies alike. Goodbye."

The call was abruptly ended.

The busy signal kept ringing, sounding particularly jarring in the quiet office.

After a few seconds of blank staring, Charles slammed the satellite phone he was holding onto the thick carpet.

He abruptly stood up, his chest heaving violently, his eyes burning with humiliated anger and a deep sense of powerlessness.

He rushed to the huge floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the orderly streets of Paris below, as if trying to draw strength from that familiar scene.

"Arrogant! Shameless! That damned mercenary leader! Who does he think he is?!"

Charles whirled around and growled at his trusted aide, Renault, who had been sitting quietly on the sofa, his voice trembling slightly with anger.

Renault is a well-known "brain trust" within DGSE.

He adjusted his glasses and said calmly, "He is indeed arrogant, sir. But what he said... is true."

He picked up the briefing on the table. "Haftar's forces now control over 70% of the country, including almost all the oil-producing regions. Benghazi, Sabha, Obama... the GNA's collapse is ten times faster than we anticipated. Saif is now holed up in Tripoli, what does he have besides his remaining troops and the empty promises of 'moral support' from the West? The Americans have clearly abandoned him. The British? Look at MI6's recent movements; they're more concerned with how to safely evacuate their people before Tripoli falls."

He stood up, walked to Charles's side, and said in a low voice, "Song Heping's threat is not empty talk. His influence in the Republic of Seine is far greater than what we saw in the archives in Paris. The president he supports is almost completely subservient to him. If we anger him by supporting Saif, he only needs to lift a finger, and the iron ore mining rights in Central Africa, our military base deployment there... will all face enormous trouble. He might even bring the British back, or support a regime that completely sides with him, utterly excluding us from the core interest circle."

The anger on Charles's face gradually receded like the tide.

He finally calmed down and loosened his tie: "Are we just going to bow down to him like this? Let a... a mercenary leader give orders in France's traditional sphere of influence? This is an absolute disgrace!"

"This is not bowing down."

Renoir analyzed the situation calmly.

"This is cutting losses, a strategic retreat, and a choice to safeguard France's core interests under the new circumstances. Saif has no investment value left. Continuing to support him will only waste resources, anger Song Heping, and ultimately leave us humiliated. On the other hand, the olive branch extended by Song Heping... although it has thorns, at least guarantees our basic interests in Lebanon, especially the oil contracts. More importantly, his commitment in the Republic of Senegal is what we absolutely cannot lose."

He paused, his gaze sharpening as he looked at his superior: "The president and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs are also under immense pressure. Public opinion in China is extremely averse to further deep involvement in the Lebanese quagmire, especially after the Americans made such a huge mess. Accepting Song Heping's 'peace' now, although it may not look good on the surface, will preserve our substance... If we stubbornly resist and ultimately lose, we will lose even more, and neither the president nor the ministers will be willing to take that responsibility."

Charles was silent.

He walked back to his desk, slumped down, and rubbed his throbbing temples with his fingers.

After a long while, he finally let out a long breath, as if he had used up all his strength.

"Looks like I'll have to go to the director's office..."

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

　　It’s the last day! Please give me a monthly ticket!

　　
　
(End of this chapter)