Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 1117 The Cook's Plea for Help

The political storm in Washington continues to escalate.

News of Director Vincent's chaotic situation occasionally reached the Persian Plateau in fragments through Angel's intelligence channels.

But for Song Heping, the commotion over there had temporarily become background noise.

For Song Heping now, there isn't much he can or needs to do.

We can only wait!
Waiting passively for a windfall is foolish.

But reasonable waiting is not the case.

The opportunity he was waiting for still hadn't arrived.

Everything seems to be going well right now.

Half a month passed, and the developments in Ilig and Syria were in line with all of Song Heping's predictions.

The US military and the Iligo government did not have a smooth westward advance into Mosul. Even with overwhelming air support, the ground forces often collapsed and retreated in a disastrous manner as soon as the air raids stopped.

Without precise ground guidance, the US military's decapitation strikes are like headless flies, bumping around aimlessly without finding the right way out.

The territory of the Khord forces in Erbil continues to be eroded.

Since Ayub's defection from the KPG alliance, although Simon personally went to Ilig to quell the internal divisions within Kold's forces, he could not stop the 1515 militia's encroachment on the Erbil region.

And then there's the CIA.

In preparation for the upcoming congressional hearing, Vincent has remained quiet for many days, taking no action against Song Heping.

All his attention is now focused on dealing with those congressmen.

The only regret was that Song Heping received a call from his sister informing him that he was getting married.

The person in question is a retired special forces officer, whom I had mentioned to Song Heping before.

Song Heping did not object, after all, he himself was a retired sergeant and had feelings for the army.

Most people who serve in the military and then retire are generally of good character.

As for whether the young man can make money or anything else...

Is it important?
Not important at all.

If he knew how much his brother-in-law was worth, his jaw would probably drop to the floor in shock.

Money is no longer that important to Song Heping.

He now feels that he has transcended.

The scope has broadened.

That's how people are. Once they're fed and clothed, their money becomes just a string of numbers in a bank account. A little more or less doesn't really matter.

What he wants is to do what he likes.

Of course, it seems that God didn't intend for Song Heping to be idle.

Just after confirming the situation inside Washington with Angel in an encrypted communication that day, the satellite phone on the table immediately started beeping.

The number's origin was through multiple encryption relays, but Song Heping could vaguely discern that the area code behind it pointed to Celia.

He picked up the receiver but didn't speak.

“Song…it’s me…”

A very tired voice came from the other end of the phone, speaking in Russian.

The voice was so familiar.

My old friend—the cook.

"cook?"

Song Heping's voice was calm and even, but his gaze had already subconsciously swept over the large map of the Middle East war zone hanging on the wall, landing on the location of Syria.

"You're still in Celia, right?"

"Hehe, it really is still there..."

The cook let out a bitter laugh on the other end of the phone.

"Song, I need help, I desperately need your help!"

"It sounds like you're having some trouble. Tell me about it."

Song Heping spoke succinctly, then got up and walked to the map.

The cook's speech suddenly quickened, anxiety and despair pouring through the airwaves: "The situation? It's terrible! It's utterly awful! It's fucking apocalyptic! The Kremlin is worried about international relations and the risks of direct intervention, and apart from holding onto the Tartus naval base, they still won't send a large number of regular troops! It's just us Wagner and those demoralized Sirian government troops holding on! We're like trying to fight a forest fire with a water gun!"

He took a deep breath, his voice like a broken bellows straining against the ground: "Listen, Song, we're surrounded on all sides, every line of defense is creaking and could collapse at any moment! This is so hard for me..."

"The sky won't fall down," Song Heping comforted him. "Tell me about your situation."

"South!"

The cook practically roared, “In the southern suburbs of Damascus, and in Daraa province near the Jordanian border, those mad dogs from the 'Victory Front' and the bastards from 1515 are swarming together, launching attacks and infiltrating like locusts. They’ve already reached the vicinity of Eastern Ghouta and are now desperately trying to break into Damascus and tear us to shreds!”

"North!"

His voice became even hoarser with excitement and anger.

"The north is even worse! Aleppo, Syria's largest city and industrial center, is now mostly in the hands of those extremist HTS (Hayat Tahrir al-Sham) militants! Government forces are divided and surrounded in several isolated strongholds in the west of the city, bleeding every day! HTS's advance has already moved south, heading straight for Homs. What is Homs? It's the northern gateway to Damascus, a transportation hub! If Homs falls, Damascus will be directly exposed to the enemy's blade! We've now shoved our last available reserves, even fresh recruits from training camps, into the Homs defenses, suffering heavy casualties... and the front line is still retreating!" "The most terrifying thing is the east!"

The cook's voice carried a chill.

"To the east lies the main force of 1515! They are the most aggressive and savage, disregarding all rules and slaughtering anyone who disobeys. Raqqa is already their so-called 'capital.' Currently, they are expanding wildly along the Euphrates Valley, conquering cities and seizing territory, and government strongholds in the east are falling one after another. Now, their vanguard is approaching Palmyra. That ancient city is strategically important; if it falls into the hands of 1515..."

He paused, panting heavily, as if describing these things had exhausted all his strength: "Song, do you understand now? We're retreating on every front—north, south, and east! We're severely understaffed, our equipment is worn out at an alarming rate, our intelligence system is practically paralyzed, and the situation is completely unclear. The government forces lack morale, and many units crumble at the first contact. Our Wagner lads are brave, but we're not supermen. We're scattered across various fronts, constantly on the move, and the casualty rate keeps rising… This situation is nearing its limit."

The cook's tone suddenly became extremely serious, even pleading: "Song, I heard that you were in northwestern Iligo, and with a small force you completely overwhelmed the main force of 1515, recapturing so many towns. Now the whole circle, from Iligo to Celia, is talking about you. Everyone says you're a true expert in dealing with 1515, their nemesis. We need your experience, your judgment, and your unconventional tactical mind!"

As he approached, he extended an urgent invitation: "Song, come to Damascus! As the supreme military advisor, provide strategic and tactical advice to me, to Wagner, and to the Sirian government forces. Help me analyze intelligence, identify the main threats, formulate operational plans, command my mercenary army and government forces, find the weaknesses of those mad dogs, and show us a way to survive! The reward? Name your price! Cash in US dollars, gold, diamonds, spot crude oil, future oil field shares, or even any special equipment you need—if I can get it, I won't haggle! This isn't just business, Song; this is my request to you as an old friend!"

Song Heping remained silent.

All that could be heard through the receiver was a faint background noise coming from the cook's side—it could be a radio conversation or a distant explosion.

His gaze swept across the camp window, where Nassin and Samir were leading the integrated troops in joint training, with Abuyu's men among them.

Northwestern Iligo has temporarily entered a period of calm before the storm.

Abuyu's forces need time to integrate and adapt, and the battle in northwestern Iligoro has reached a brutal stalemate, with the US and Iligoro government forces unlikely to achieve a decisive breakthrough in the short term.

This was exactly the time he had been waiting for.

And Celia...

It is a deeper and more complex quagmire than Iligo.

It is a melting pot where great power rivalry, sectarian conflict, proxy wars, and extremist ideologies all burn together.

Danger is everywhere.

But as the cook said, there are also great opportunities there, especially since the battle for Celia was already part of his grand plan, and he would have to go there sooner or later.

Intervening in the situation in Syria now not only repays the cook's favor, but also expands his influence to new strategic directions, establishing a more direct and solid connection with the Russian military and Wagner, thus gaining incalculable leverage and room for maneuver for his future plans there.

Moreover, attacking 1515 was one of his core objectives, and attacking them in Celia was essentially no different from attacking them in Iligo.

"it is good."

Song Heping's answer was concise and to the point, without any hesitation.

"I come over."

"That's great! That's great! Song! I knew it!!"

The cook's voice instantly filled with immense excitement and a sense of relief, "I'll arrange the safest route and rendezvous method immediately! Use all available resources! Get ready and set off as soon as possible!"

"Wait for my news."

Song Heping hung up the phone.

Without the slightest delay, he immediately ordered Jiang Feng, Nassin, Samir, and Abuyu to be summoned to the command post.

The four arrived quickly and sensed the unusual atmosphere inside.

"I will be leaving for a while soon."

Song Heping cut to the chase, his gaze sweeping over each of his core subordinates, "Go to Celia to handle some urgent matters."

Surprise and doubt appeared on their faces, but no one questioned them; they simply waited quietly for orders.

"Nassr, Samir."

Song Heping looked at his two loyal confidants and said, “Your mission is to continue the high-intensity training of the troops, especially the newly joined Abuyu’s unit. You must integrate them as soon as possible and form a reliable combat force. Strategically, you must adopt a defensive posture. Without my direct order, you are strictly prohibited from any proactive attacks. Your mission during this period is not to launch attacks, but to protect our territory. If you can protect it, that will be your greatest achievement.”

"Understood, boss!"

Nassin and Samir stepped forward to respond.

"Abuyu".

Song Heping looked at the newly surrendered commander.

"You are familiar with the situation in northern Iligor, especially around Mosul. Your task is to assist Nassin and his men in their integration training, while making full use of your existing relationships and intelligence network to closely monitor the progress of the battle in Mosul, as well as the movements within the KPG, especially among the top leadership of the committee. Any significant changes, no matter how small, must be reported to me immediately via encrypted satellite channel."

"Leave it to me, Mr. Song."

Abuyu nodded solemnly, knowing full well that this was a crucial test to gain trust. "My men and I will not let you down."

Finally, he looked at Jiang Feng, his capable lieutenant in charge of logistics, intelligence, and diplomacy: "Jiang Feng, your task is the most important. Coordinate all camp affairs, with a focus on the crude oil trade with Zayed. In the near future, we must find ways to increase shipments, utilizing the border crossings and networks we control, and by modifying tanker trucks and arranging small ships, to safely transport the crude oil to the sea handover point designated by Zayed. Financial settlements must be absolutely secure; a portion should be used to purchase urgently needed military supplies and high-tech equipment, and the other portion should be converted into gold or US dollar reserves. At the same time, maintain seamless intelligence communication with Henry; I must be aware of any developments in Washington or Langley immediately."

"Don't worry, old squad leader."

Jiang Feng's answer was straightforward: "I will make sure everything is in good order. The crude oil trading lines and the financial chain will never be broken. But the situation in Syria is complicated, so you must be extremely careful."

After explaining everything, Song Heping left the camp with only a light but sturdy backpack.

Besides essential changes of clothes, the backpack mainly contained his tactical equipment, multiple forged passports with different nationalities, a large sum of cash in different currencies, a satellite phone, and an encrypted communicator.

He had to use a fake passport to leave the country and go to Libanen.

There, you'll meet with Russian agents.

Everything was arranged by the chef.

He wasn't worried about that.

　Asking for a monthly ticket!

　　
　
(End of this chapter)