Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 1096 The oriole is behind
Just minutes before Zayed's luxury car left "Kali's Night"...

Across the street from the nightclub, across a busy intersection, an inconspicuous white Toyota Fortuner was parked in the shadows.

The car windows were tinted dark, making it almost impossible to see inside from the outside.

Song Heping sat in the driver's seat, tore open the wrapper of a Big Mac, and slowly ate it.

A glass of iced cola sits on the cup holder next to me.

He chose McDonald's not because of the taste, but because of the most basic survival considerations—he had heard too many "legendary" stories about street food in White Elephant Country, and during the mission, any non-combat casualties, especially weakness caused by gastroenteritis, were unacceptable and extremely foolish.

Standardized, high-calorie fast food is the safest and most reliable source of energy right now.

His gaze passed through the car window, over the bustling traffic and crowds, and precisely locked onto the dazzling entrance of "Carly Night".

He waited, like a rock blending into the night, calm and patient.

At 9:40, the target appeared.

Zayed emerged surrounded by a group of burly, wary-looking bodyguards.

He seemed to be in a good mood, with a smug smile on his face. He patted the shoulder of a trusted confidant next to him, said a few words, and drew laughter from his subordinates.

Instead of getting into his conspicuous black Land Cruiser, he gave a few instructions to the head of his bodyguards, and then, accompanied by two bodyguards, walked to a more understated black Mercedes-Benz sedan parked nearby.

"Should we change locations?"

Song Heping felt a slight stirring in his heart, put down the half-eaten hamburger, and silently placed his fingers on the steering wheel.

Almost simultaneously, he noticed that in a corner a little further away from the nightclub parking lot, two cars that had been turned off—a gray Honda and a white Maruti Suzuki van—also turned on their lights and slowly drove out, following closely behind Zayed's Mercedes, almost at the same time Zayed started his Mercedes.

It has a tail.

Song Heping's eyes sharpened instantly.

The figures inside the two cars were blurry, but it was clear that they were both men, and their movements were deliberately restrained and furtive.

This doesn't seem like Zayed's usual security procedures.

His cheetah-like intuition told him that Narendra's killers might be in those two cars.

It seems that letting the stalker go was indeed the right choice.

Just as he had predicted, the man did not inform his superiors that he had been captured and that he intended to reveal his intentions.

Ha ha.

human nature.

This is human nature.

Using human nature to make predictions always yields surprisingly high accuracy.

Without hesitation, Song Heping quickly started the engine, and the car slowly drove away from the intersection.

He maintained a safe distance from his target, slowly merged into the traffic, and followed the two suspicious vehicles.

A three-way chase quietly unfolds under the dazzling lights of Goa at night.

Zayed's Mercedes did not drive to one of his residences or offices, but instead went straight to the famous five-star luxury hotel, "Crown Jewel," located along the seafront promenade.

The vehicle drove directly into the underground VIP parking lot entrance.

The two vehicles that were following hesitated for a moment and did not follow into the VIP passage. Instead, they circled around and entered through the main parking lot entrance that was open to the public.

Instead of choosing any entrance, Song Heping parked his car in a roadside parking space outside the hotel where he could observe the main parking lot exit and also catch a glimpse of the side entrance to the hotel lobby.

He needs to determine these people's intentions and course of action.

About ten minutes later, he saw the doors of the two cars open and a total of eight men get out.

They quickly retrieved several long, black sports bags and backpacks from the trunks of the Honda and Maruti, glancing around warily.

One of them seemed to say something on a walkie-talkie, and then the group quickly walked towards the parking lot, which led directly to the staff elevator inside the hotel.

Suspiciously, a person dressed in a hotel manager's uniform seemed to have been waiting there. After exchanging a few words, he swiped his access card to open the elevator and let the eight people in.

"An inside man..."

Song Heping's pupils contracted. Sure enough, Narendra's influence was extremely deep; he could even penetrate the interior of such a luxury hotel.

These people can bypass most of the surveillance cameras and hotel lobby security checks by taking the staff elevator and go directly into the floor.

Their target was obvious—Zayed, who had just checked into the hotel.

Song Heping immediately picked up his phone and quickly searched for the floor information of the "Crown Pearl Hotel".

The most luxurious presidential suite is located on the 30th floor.

A person like Zayed would only choose that place.

Time was of the essence! He didn't know which floor the assassins would exit the elevator on, nor how they would launch their attack, but every second of delay reduced Zayed's chances of survival.

Song Heping suddenly pushed open the car door and pulled the black sports bag out from under the passenger seat.

He quickly took off his jacket, revealing the Level III bulletproof vest he had already put on underneath, and then inserted two additional ceramic plates into the layers between his chest and back.

He then inserted the Glock 17 pistol into a quick-draw holster under his right side and the spare magazine into his left hip.

Finally, he unzipped his sports bag, took out the two M18 smoke grenades, stuffed them into his jacket pocket, took a deep breath, slung the specially made "guitar case" over his shoulder, and strode towards the hotel lobby.

He couldn't use the employee entrance; that would be too conspicuous and might run into the other side's backup or insiders.

Now, we must use normal channels to get as close as possible.

Stepping into the magnificent hotel lobby, Song Heping lowered the brim of his hat, avoided the front desk area, and walked naturally toward the guest elevator area like an ordinary guest.

His eyes quickly scanned the surroundings, confirming that there were no obvious threats, while memorizing the locations of the lobby's exits and fire escape routes.

Upon arriving at the elevator lobby, he noticed that all the button panels leading to floors above the 20th floor were locked with covers, and there was a sign next to them: VIP room card required to activate.

"really."

He sneered inwardly and pressed the button for the 19th floor without hesitation.

The elevator ascended smoothly, the numbers flashing. In those brief ten seconds, his brain raced, planning his route—find the fire escape on the 19th floor, and climb ten floors at full speed to the 30th. The assassin might be using the employee elevator, which would be even faster; every second counted.

"Ding!"

The elevator arrived at the 19th floor.

As soon as the door opened, Song Heping appeared as if he were a ghost.

The corridor, covered with a thick carpet, absorbed the sound of his footsteps; it was deserted.

He quickly looked around, and his sharp eyes immediately locked onto the green "EXIT" emergency exit sign on the wall not far away.

He strode forward, pushed open the heavy fire door, and stepped into the concrete fire escape stairwell.

The stairwell was dimly lit and smelled of a mixture of dust and disinfectant.

Without pausing for a moment, Song Heping took a deep breath and began sprinting upwards.

His movements were swift and light, minimizing the sound of his footsteps, yet incredibly fast, leaping over several steps in a single stride.

The guitar case on his back swayed slightly and rhythmically with his movements, and the MP7 inside seemed to be yearning to roar.

Tenth floor, eleventh floor, twelfth floor...

He silently counted in his mind, his breathing remained steady through deliberate control, but his adrenaline was being secreted wildly, his senses were heightened to the extreme, and his ears were picking up any strange noises from the floors above and below—except for his own hurried but suppressed footsteps and panting, there was only the faint hum of the air conditioning system in the distance.

……

Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty!
He stopped outside the fire door on the 30th floor, his chest rising and falling slightly, and fine beads of sweat appearing on his forehead.

He didn't push the door open immediately, but instead pressed his ear against the cold metal door again, holding his breath to listen.

Deathly silence.

This is extremely unusual.

Even late at night, the presidential suite floor should be filled with the whispers of hotel staff or at least the footsteps of Zayed's bodyguards.

Song Heping's nerves suddenly tightened.

He drew his Glock 17 from his side with his right hand, checked the safety and the chamber, and gently pushed open the fire door with his left hand, revealing a crack.

The corridor was covered with thicker, more luxurious carpets, and the lighting was soft; it remained completely empty.

A strong smell of blood mixed with the smell of gunpowder wafted faintly from the right side of the corridor.

He slipped out, his body pressed against the wall, moving silently like a gecko.

A sharp glance quickly revealed a suite door a short distance to the right, its door ajar. A dark, sticky drag mark was clearly visible on the expensive carpet at the entrance, extending all the way inside.

He approached cautiously, the smell of blood growing stronger.

Through the crack in the door, he saw two figures in black suits lying on the floor inside—Zayed's bodyguards.

One person lay on their back with a bullet hole between their eyebrows, while another lay face down, the blood spilling from beneath them soaking a large area of ​​the carpet, forming a dark pool of blood.

A single, fatal blow, executed cleanly and efficiently—the work of a professional assassin.

The assassin has cleared out the outer guards!

Song Heping's heart sank.

Almost simultaneously, he heard several extremely faint, deliberately low footsteps and metallic scraping sounds coming from the elevator hall on the far right of the corridor, rapidly approaching him!
　Asking for a monthly ticket! Asking for a monthly ticket!

　　
　
(End of this chapter)