Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 1054 Code Name, Poison Needle

Kuwait, Ali Salim Air Base, ground control station.

"The strike is over."

The main operator's voice was completely flat, as if he were reporting a successful simulation training.

"Death 01, R9X confirmed to have hit the designated target vehicle."

"Death 02 confirmed, follow-up strike completed. The target convoy has completely lost its mobility."

The co-operator added.

On the huge screen, the air attack points around Eagle's Beak Gorge were clearly visible.

The wreckage of three Toyota Land Cruisers with desert paint schemes was scattered within an area of ​​less than 100 meters, like toys trampled by naughty children.

The first car rolled down the hillside and lay on its side, twisted and smoking. The second car was almost embedded in the rocks beside the road, its front half completely gone, leaving only the charred and deformed skeleton. The third car was torn apart by the explosion, its parts scattered all over the ground, the raging flames licking the charred ground, and thick smoke billowing up, forming a blurry and scorching area under infrared imaging.

"Perform a damage assessment," the master operator ordered.

"Yes."

The co-operator skillfully maneuvered the sensor turret, aiming the high-resolution photoelectric and infrared lenses at the hellish scene below.

The image was magnified, frozen, and recorded.

They needed a clear view of the wreckage of each vehicle, especially the cockpit area of ​​the second vehicle—the core target should theoretically have been shredded there by the "blade storm."

However, all that could be seen were twisted steel, burning flames, and scattered, unrecognizable fragments.

There were no clearly identifiable signs belonging to humans, let alone confirmation of whether a specific target had been completely eliminated.

The high temperature, explosion, and metal distortion completely destroyed the biological characteristics.

"Damage assessment complete."

The co-operator reported, "All target vehicles have been destroyed. The thermal signals of vehicles 2 and 3 indicate no signs of life remaining. Vehicle 1 appears to still have a faint thermal signal, but this cannot be confirmed."

The main operator paused for a moment, then reported into the communication channel: "Command center, this is Death 01. Mission accomplished, target convoy destroyed. Vehicle No. 1 damage assessment shows residual vital signs, but it has overturned into a valley and cannot be attacked again. Vehicles No. 2 and No. 3 have been completely destroyed, no signs of life. Repeat, unable to confirm whether Vehicle No. 1 has been cleared. Requesting further instructions."

Langley, CIA Headquarters, Operations Command Center.

"Damn it! Damn it, it can't be confirmed!"

Vincent said with a grim face, "Fortunately, vehicle number 2 was destroyed..."

“Sir,” the agent beside him calmly reminded him, “the damage assessment of vehicle number 1 indicates the presence of vital signs, but they are unidentifiable. According to procedure, especially on enemy territory, without ground personnel to confirm the body, a final determination of death cannot be made.”

Vincent waved his hand irritably: "I know the procedures! But that's Persia! How are our people supposed to verify them?! Are we supposed to send SEAL Team Six to airdrop into Tehran hospitals and search the morgues?!"

He forced himself to calm down, paced anxiously for a couple of steps, then abruptly stopped: "'Poison Needle'! Contact 'Poison Needle'! Immediately!" His voice carried an unquestionable command. "Tell him the operation is complete; the convoy was destroyed outside Eagle's Beak Gorge. Make him use every means to confirm Song Heping's fate! I need concrete information, alive or dead! Make him find out at all costs!"

The command was swiftly encrypted and sent to the heart of Persia.

Inside a tunnel near Eagle's Beak Gorge.

A suffocating silence enveloped the lone Toyota Land Cruiser in the middle of the tunnel.

The air inside the car seemed to solidify into lead, pressing heavily on Kavvan's chest.

The last desperate scream from the radio slithered into his ears like a cold, venomous snake.

His face was as pale as paper.

Those were all my comrades-in-arms…

They're brothers who spend every day together...

Less than ten kilometers away, in that burning hell…

He could even imagine their final terror and helplessness.

An immense grief and anger surged and burned within him like magma, threatening to tear him apart.

He suddenly turned his head, his bloodshot eyes fixed on Song Heping in the back seat.

Song Heping remained absolutely calm.

The muffled explosion from hell just now seemed to confirm one of his judgments.

He slowly lowered the muzzle of his gun, which had been locked onto the darkness deep inside the tunnel, but Glock did not lower it; instead, he pressed it against the back of Kavvan's head.

The cold metallic touch sent a shiver down Kavvan's spine.

"Now."

Song Heping's voice was deep: "Do you believe me now, Kafvan? Or should I call you 'The Mole'?"

"No, I am not!"

Kavvan, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, his voice sharpened with excitement and fear. He tried to turn his head to explain, but the cold muzzle of the gun silenced him.

“My loyalty to General Afanti is beyond question! I am not a traitor! Absolutely not!” His eyes were filled with humiliation and anger.

"If I were the mole, I should have..."

"Shut up." Song Heping interrupted him, his voice not loud, but carrying an undeniable pressure, and the gun barrel was pressed forward again.

"Loyalty? The Americans knew the convoy's exact route! Without a mole, were those iron birds in the sky just guessing?!"

Kavvan opened his mouth, wanting to refute, but felt a chill run down his spine.

Song Heping's words pierced through his angry facade like a cold awl, revealing the bottomless fear and doubt beneath.

Yes, if it weren't for an inside job, how could the Americans know so much detail?!

"Turn off the radio."

Song Heping commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Shut it down completely. Unplug the power and remove the backup battery. Cut off all electronic connections between this vehicle and the outside world. Now, immediately!"

With a gun pointed at his head, Kavvan dared not hesitate for a moment.

He fumbled to turn off the main power switch of the car radio, and then, under Song Heping's cold gaze, he bent down with difficulty and groped under the center console to find the radio's spare battery box, which he then pried out forcefully.

As the backup battery detached, the last faint indicator light on the radio panel went out completely.

The car fell into a deathly silence, with only the heavy or unsteady breathing of the two people remaining.

"cell phone."

Song Heping's gun barrel remained completely still.

Kavvan quickly pulled out his military-grade encrypted phone, turned it off at Song Heping's signal, removed the battery, and then threw it, along with the spare battery, onto the carpet in the back seat.

Song Heping slowly lowered his gun, but kept his eyes fixed on Kafvan. Then, he pulled out a black satellite phone from a very concealed pocket in his tactical vest and dialed Afanti's number.

Then he held the microphone to Kavvan's ear.

"Report the situation here to Afanti."

Kavvan took a deep breath, trying to calm his wildly beating heart.

The call connected, and Afanti's deep, authoritative voice came through: "Kafvan?"

"General!"

Kavvan's voice was filled with barely suppressed grief.

“I am Kavvan! Our convoy was targeted by a US drone and Hellfire missiles outside Eagle’s Beak Gorge... and we were all wiped out! Mr. Song judged... there was a mole! A mole in the higher-ups! Mr. Song... is fine, he’s right here with me.”

At this point, Song Heping put his phone away and held it to his ear: "Avanti, now you know I was right, right?"

"Song, you're a formidable guy..."

Nasreddin had nothing to say.

Song Heping said, "Now, for my sake and for yourselves, let's do something."

"Go on," Afanti said, having lost his temper. "What is it?"

"The convoy was precisely targeted by a US drone strike at Eagle's Beak Gorge, so the mole must be among you. I'm not dead now, but the Americans will definitely use the mole to confirm my fate; you need to arrange a fishing operation for me, at the Tehran Army General Hospital..."

A brief, suffocating silence fell on the other end of the phone.

A few seconds later, Afanti's voice came: "Understood, I'll make the arrangements. Go to the base I've arranged right now, there..."

He had intended to say "absolutely no problem" as he was used to, but now he suddenly lost confidence.

"should be no problem……"

Afan mentioned that he eventually changed the wording.

Kavvan watched as Song Heping put the phone away again, and couldn't help but ask in a low voice, "What...what do we do now? Wait here?"

Song Heping holstered his gun, leaned back in his chair, and fell into deep thought.

His voice carried a hint of weariness, but more so a cold calculation: "Wait. Wait a little longer. Wait until those drones leave. Remember, from now on, we are 'dead men.' Any movement will attract the real Grim Reaper."

Inside the tunnel, only the sound of dripping water and the suppressed breathing of the two people could be heard.

The darkness, as solid as a physical entity, swallowed the lone car.

Song Heping closed his eyes to rest, while Kavvan was on edge, staring intently at the darkness at both ends of the tunnel, his palms sweating as he gripped his gun.

Time crawled slowly amidst fear and waiting.

Eight hours later.

Langley, CIA Headquarters, Operations Command Center.

Time seemed to freeze.

Vincent paced restlessly in front of the command console like a caged beast, his eyes constantly scanning the encrypted communication terminal in front of him.

On the screen, the indicator light representing the connection status with the "poison needle" remained a worrying red—indicating an offline status.

"Still no news?!"

After stretching and yawning, Vincent couldn't help but ask the agent in charge of liaison.

"Eight hours have passed! What is he doing?! On vacation?!"

“Sir, it’s the middle of the night in Persia, and such a major attack has just occurred. The Revolutionary Guard is definitely on high alert and keeping the news under wraps. 'Poison Needle' needs to be extremely cautious to obtain intelligence.”

Sarah, the female agent in charge of liaison, analyzed the situation calmly, but a hint of unease also lingered in her eyes.

Just then, the red indicator light suddenly started flashing and then turned into a steady green!

At the same time, the terminal emits a low, husky notification sound.

"coming!"

Sarah perked up and her fingers flew across the keyboard, establishing a higher-level decryption channel.

Vincent immediately lunged at the screen, almost pressing his face against it.

Lines of text, after being decrypted through multiple layers, scroll across the screen:

[Target Status Update: Emergency channels have confirmed that Song Heping (codename "Ghost") survived the attack. He boarded the lead vehicle before the convoy departed. After a precision strike in the open area outside Eagle's Beak Gorge, the remaining guards were killed. Song Heping's lead vehicle escaped the attack by rolling down a hillside; its weak thermal signature prevented it from being detected by drones. Song Heping has been secretly transferred to a top-secret military ward at the Tehran Army General Hospital for emergency treatment. Ward location: Top floor of the surgical building, VIP-3. Heavily guarded, by Afanti's personal guard. Information reliability: A. Over.]

"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!!!"

Upon seeing the words "not dead," Vincent instantly flew into a rage! Like a lion thoroughly enraged, he grabbed a metal coffee cup and smashed it against the wall beside him!

The coffee cup made a jarring clinking sound, and coffee stains splattered across the pristine white wall, leaving a filthy mark.

"Switched cars?! He did it on purpose! Why is he so resilient?!"

Vincent roared hysterically, veins bulging on his forehead.

He whirled around, his eyes bloodshot, and roared at Sarah, “Contact ‘Poison Needle’ immediately! Highest emergency level! Tell him the target isn’t dead! He’s at the Army General Hospital! Tell him to kill Song Heping at all costs, right now! Right here in the hospital! Now! Immediately!”

Sarah swiftly executed the command, and the encrypted message was sent again.

A few minutes later, "Poison Needle's" reply arrived, carrying a strong sense of resistance and fear:
[Instructions received. However, this mission is tantamount to suicide! The target's ward is heavily guarded, with Afanti's trusted guards on 24-hour watch. Non-essential personnel cannot approach. Any unusual activity will be immediately detected. The risks are completely uncontrollable! Refuse to execute! Repeat: Refuse to execute! Over.]

Upon seeing the words "refusal to comply," Vincent's facial muscles twitched violently, and a cold, venomous glint flashed in his eyes.

He took a deep breath, as if desperately suppressing an urge to destroy everything, and then, in an almost cold and calm tone, he dictated his reply:
"Poison Needle," listen up. Your son, Thomas, just finished class at ETH Zurich at 3:10 PM this afternoon and is currently having coffee with some classmates at the Eagle Café. Your daughter, Sofia, is vacationing in Nice, France, basking in the Mediterranean sun and having a wonderful time. Would you like me to send you photos of them to confirm?

After the message was sent, the communication channel fell into a deathly silence.

It was as if even the air had frozen. A full five minutes passed before a reply came, the words filled with a desperate tremor:
"...You devil! What do you want?!"

Vincent's lips curled into a cruel and triumphant smirk as he continued narrating:
[It's simple. Complete your mission. Song Heping must die. This doesn't mean you have to go into battle. There are always people in the hospital who can be bribed. Doctors, nurses, cleaners… even the delivery people. Find one. He doesn't need to do it himself; just add a little 'special effect drug' to Song Heping's medication. For example, a high concentration of potassium chloride? Or a little 'succinylcholine'? Nobody will know. An autopsy takes time; by the time they discover the problem, you'll already be long gone with your family.]

He paused, then added more weight:

[If you succeed, you and the executor will receive thirty-five million US dollars. Cash or bearer bonds, your choice. We will arrange the perfect escape route for you, a brand new identity, and guarantee your whole family a life of luxury on sunny beaches in America or Europe for the rest of their lives. Think about it, thirty-five million! This is your last chance, your only chance. Do it, or watch your family...disappear like fireworks? The choice is yours. The countdown begins.]

The message is sent.

In Langley's command center, only Vincent's heavy breathing and the low hum of the machines could be heard.

He stared intently at the screen, awaiting the "poison needle" from Persia, and driven by fear and greed, made his final decision.

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

　　
　
(End of this chapter)