Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 1191 Game
In the cold wind of a Moscow winter night, the black sedan, like a slippery fish, silently drove away from the estate surrounded by high walls and bare birch forests.

Fine mist condensed on the car windows, cutting the passing lights outside into blurry spots of light.

Song Heping leaned back in the soft leather seat, his eyes closed, seemingly resting, but his mind was racing.

He was reviewing every conversation, every glance, and every meaningful pause that had just taken place in the manor.

Dealing with seasoned "Silovichs" (elites of the powerful) like Petrovich requires extreme caution. Every word must be carefully weighed, demonstrating value without appearing overly eager, and stating one's position without making the other party feel coerced.

The driver was one of Petrovich's men, as silent as a stone.

The only sound inside the car was the faint hum of the heating system.

Song Heping could feel the driver's scrutinizing gaze in the rearview mirror, but he didn't care.

This level of surveillance was already expected and normal the moment he decided to set foot on Moscow soil.

The Russians like to play this game.

Therefore, dealing with them can easily lead to death if you're not careful.

The journey was long and silent.

When the car finally drove into Moscow, through the still bustling streets and flashing neon lights, and stopped at the back door of a seemingly ordinary but heavily guarded hotel, Song Heping slowly opened his eyes.

Two expressionless staff members stepped forward, one opened the car door, and the other politely gestured for them to enter before leading the way.

With just a glance, Song Heping could tell that these two were secret agents.

I don't know which specific department.

He didn't want to guess.

It's the same anyway.

Soon, the three of them entered the suite on the top floor of the hotel through a private passage.

The suite's luxury contrasts sharply with the estate's rustic grandeur, while the huge floor-to-ceiling windows offer a view of Moscow's dazzling cityscape at night, with the Kremlin's spires appearing and disappearing in the distance.

The door had just closed when a figure darted out from the inner room.

That man was the hunter.

A barely perceptible hint of anxiety crossed his face.

"How about it?"

The hunter kept his voice low, because a suite of this caliber would inevitably be monitored.

“I went there all night and didn’t hear a word. I thought you’d been invited to the Lubyanka basement by those ‘ice men’ from the Kremlin.”

Song Heping took off his down jacket, tossed it casually onto the sofa, walked to the liquor cabinet, poured himself a glass of vodka, without ice, and took a swig.

The strong liquor, like a fiery line, went straight from my throat to my stomach, dispelling some of the chill and relaxing my nerves slightly.

"Tea?"

Song Heping smiled and said, "It hasn't come to that point yet."

He walked to the floor-to-ceiling window and looked down at the vast and complex city.

This is another battlefield, without the smoke of gunpowder, yet equally crucial to life and death.

"How did the talks go?"

The hunter walked up to him and pressed for an answer.

He was well aware of the importance of this trip, as it concerned the future of their armed force, known as the "Liberation Forces," located far away on the Persian Plateau, as well as the fate of the "Musicians" defense, which was struggling to survive in the cracks.

Song Heping turned around and pointed to the balcony.

The word "hunter" is understood.

They opened the door, went out onto the balcony, and closed the door behind them.

Temperatures in Moscow in January are below -10 degrees Celsius.

It is cold outside.

But this is also a good way to evade wiretapping.

Song Heping stared into the distance for a while, then said in a low voice, "Petrovich is just a scout in the front lines. His master clearly has bigger ambitions for this messy game in the Middle East."

Song Heping slowly said, "From what we can see at first glance, the Kremlin is quite interested in the idea I proposed. Their interest stems from the fact that their war in Syria has also reached a stalemate, and they are eager to join forces with the Persians to find a strategic breakthrough."

A glimmer of hope flashed in the hunter's eyes: "They agreed?"

"It's not that simple."

Song Heping shook his head: "This level of strategic shift involves the complex relationships between Russia, the United States, Persia, and us. Petrovich, or rather the president he represents, won't make a gamble easily. They've given us an opportunity, an opportunity to prove we're worth investing in."

"Proof? How do you prove it?"

"He didn't say it explicitly, but I think they need to see that we do have the ability to influence the situation in northern Iligo, the ability to make the Americans feel the pain so much that they have to sit down and talk to us about cooperation."

Song Heping explained, "The Kremlin's attitude is very clear: they will not step into the limelight until I prove my abilities; instead, they will see how far our show can go."

The hunter frowned: "So, they want to wait for us to spar with the Americans first, force the Americans to the negotiating table, and then they can reap the benefits? Isn't that just getting something for nothing?"

"The essence of politics is transactions and games, and besides, this isn't your first time dealing with Russians."

Song Heping's tone was very calm: "We need to offer tangible results and strategic value in exchange. Right now, the Kremlin seems very interested in this, but the final decision on whether to agree to this proposal will definitely depend on the Americans' agreement; otherwise, it's definitely hopeless."

The hunter nodded thoughtfully. "I understand the Russians' plan. But, boss, I still don't understand how you can get the Americans to come knocking on your door seeking cooperation? They're Uncle Sam, the big shot. I remember you mentioned this idea at the beginning of the year in that rudimentary command post on the Persian Plateau. Back then, the brothers all thought it was a pipe dream, and nobody took it seriously. Now, you're actually pushing it forward?"

Song Heping did not answer immediately.

He pulled the encrypted satellite phone out of his pocket, then gently ran his fingers along the cold metal casing, as if touching the threads of the entire plan.

"The reason why Arabian Nights is Arabian Nights is because the storyteller doesn't have the power to change reality." As Song Heping spoke, he began to dial skillfully, and the satellite phone emitted a soft beeping sound.

He shook the phone.

"And now, we have it."

He pressed the last button and held the phone close to his ear.

After a brief pause, the call was connected.

"Jiang Feng."

Song Heping's voice was calm and clear, without the slightest hesitation, "It's me. The time has come to execute the 'Broken Blade' plan."

There were no unnecessary pleasantries, no detailed explanations, only a brief command.

Jiang Feng, who was far away on the Persian Plateau on the other end of the phone, seemed to have been waiting for a long time. His reply was crisp and clear: "Understood, old squad leader! I guarantee I will complete the mission!"

call ended.

The hunter's eyes had been fixed on Song Heping's movements until now, when he finally couldn't help but speak: "'Broken Blade'? Is this the backup plan you mentioned before but never went into detail about? Now can you tell me what kind of 'blade' it is, and whose 'head' it's going to cut off?"

Song Heping took a paper map out of his pocket, swept the snow off the balcony table, and spread it on top of the map.

Then, pick up the light pen and skillfully lock onto a point on the map.

"Look here, Sulaymaniyah."

The light spot stopped on the icon that represented the town.

The hunter leaned closer for a closer look and said, "This is a major town in the eastern part of the Koldeid-controlled area in northern Ilig, near the Persian border, and is one of the transportation hubs connecting Kirkuk and Erbil."

"not only that."

Song Heping's light pen moved slowly, heading east along the highway network.

"It is also a crucial road node for transporting supplies from Baghdad to the Kurdish Autonomous Government in Erbil. Most importantly, after the 1515 militants cut off the main route from Mosul to Erbil, this was the only relatively unobstructed land route for the Kurdish forces in Iriego to obtain vital supplies such as weapons, ammunition, and fuel from the Americans in Baghdad. The Americans used this line to maintain the fighting capacity of the Erbil Kurds like a blood transfusion, in order to fight against the ever-expanding 1515 militants in the northwest."

The hunter immediately realized the strategic value of Sulaymaniyah: "You mean, taking this place is equivalent to severing the main artery of the Erbil Kold?"

"Yes."

A cold glint flashed in Song Heping's eyes. "The core of the so-called 'Broken Blade' plan is to have Samir's 'Liberation Forces' and Abuyu Brigade launch a blitzkrieg against Sulaymaniyah at the most opportune moment, so as to quickly occupy and control this strategic point with overwhelming force."

"The right time?"

The hunter has captured the key words.

This plan is very bold.

But what puzzled him was—wasn't it supposed to be a collaboration with the Americans?
If we attack Sulaymaniyah and cut off the supply lines between the US military and the Kolds, wouldn't that offend the Americans even more?

How can we even discuss cooperation then?
"When is it appropriate?"

Song Heping moved the pen, pointing it to another focal point on the sand table—Mosul.

"The opportunity lies with our 'old friend,' Baghdadi, the 'Caliph' of 1515."

Song Heping's lips curled into a cold smile. "Previously, in order to help me and the SSO team escape from eastern Cyria, Jiang Feng commanded the Abuyu Brigade to launch an attack on the 1515 outpost on the eastern outskirts of Mosul, and also destroyed one of their logistics centers, causing heavy losses to the 1515 armed forces. You haven't forgotten about that, have you?"

The hunter nodded: "I haven't forgotten. I thought it was just a diversionary tactic, but I didn't expect you to have planted such a deep seed."

"Whether or not the Abuyu Brigade still obeys Erbil's orders now, it is nominally still part of the Kold armed forces, and its members are mainly Kolds."

Song Heping analyzed, "Given Baghdadi's vengeful nature, he would never tolerate an armed force of 'infidels,' especially the Kurdish forces, whom he has always regarded as a thorn in his side, causing such a commotion right under the nose of his so-called 'capital,' Mosul. This is a heavy blow to his personal authority and the morale of the 1515.

He paused, allowing the hunter to process the information, before continuing: "Therefore, I judge that once Baghdadi confirms that the Abuyu Brigade was responsible for the attack on Mosul and the heavy losses inflicted upon him, he will be furious. He won't bother to distinguish whether the Abuyu Brigade has already been expelled from Erbil; in his view, all the Kurds are 'infidels' and should be exterminated. Based on this anger, he will inevitably direct his wrath towards the entire Kurdish regime in Erbil. To save face, he is very likely—no, he will definitely—to mobilize a large force to launch a massive retaliatory offensive against the Erbil region in the short term."

As he spoke, Song Heping kept moving his light pen, marking the possible attack routes of the 1515 armed group.

"Once the 1515 militia began attacking south of Erbil, the main force of the Kold was drawn to the south."

Song Heping's light pen returned to Sulaymaniyah.

"The defenses here will inevitably be relatively weak. That will be the perfect time to draw the 'Broken Blade'!"

His voice carried an undeniable certainty: "Let Jiang Feng lead the integrated 10,000 elite 'Liberation Forces' troops, with the Abuyu Brigade and 'People's Power' as the vanguard, to launch a surprise attack and capture Sulaymaniyah. This move will, firstly, militarily, completely sever the lifeline of Baghdad's land-based supply to Erbil. After that, if the Americans want to support the Khord forces, they will have to rely on expensive airlifts."

"Secondly, strategically."

Song Heping's gaze sharpened. "We've essentially sent a crystal-clear signal to the White House and the Pentagon—we not only have the capability to confront 1515 on the Nineveh Plains, but also the capability to, at a critical moment, coordinate with 1515's actions to wipe out the Kold allies the Americans have painstakingly cultivated over the years within Iriego! This will force the Americans to face a brutal choice—either watch as their most important ground proxy force in northern Iriego is strangled by us and 1515, completely losing their ground foothold in northern Iriego, and all their previous investments going down the drain; or they humble themselves, take the initiative to talk to us, acknowledge our status and value, and cooperate with us to preserve the Kold people, or even use us to more effectively combat 1515."

The hunter listened to the meticulously planned, almost ruthless scheme and couldn't help but gasp. He could almost see the expressions of shock and anger on the faces of the generals and politicians in the White House Situation Room when they received news of the fall of Sulaymaniyah and the distress call from the Kurds.

"This is a risky move, but also a brilliant one..."

The hunter murmured, "Put the Americans in a corner, then make them come begging to us... But, boss, are you sure Bakdadi will take his anger out on Erbil as we expect? After all, the Abuyu Brigade has openly broken away from the command structure of the Kold'd Autonomous Government. Won't that madman Bakdadi hate us even more and turn around to attack us?"

Song Heping looked up at the Moscow night sky again, his tone calm yet revealing a profound understanding of human nature: "Hunter, you don't understand the mindset of these extremists. For Baghdadi, face and the 'purity' of his extreme ideology are sometimes more important than practical benefits. The Abuyu Brigade is composed of Kurds; that's the original sin."

"Attacking Mosul would be a provocation against his authority. He needs a glorious victory against the 'infidels' to consolidate his power, and launching a holy war against Erbil, the 'Kold stronghold,' would best satisfy his vanity and propaganda needs. As for us... well, our composition is too complex, and we've already demonstrated our fighting prowess to them. He's vindictive but also a bully who preys on the weak and fears the strong, and he's more inclined to attack 'infidel' targets that he can control. Therefore, the possibility that he'll turn his anger on the Kolds is over 90%."

There was a brief silence in the room.

The hunter was digesting this massive and audacious plan, as well as the enormous risks and opportunities it contained.

He had to admit that Song Heping's grasp of the psychology and situation of all parties had reached an astonishing level.

"If...if everything goes well, and the Americans really do come knocking..."

The hunter looked up, a complex light flickering in his eyes. "What's our next step? And what role are the Russians playing in all this?"

Song Heping turned to look at him and said, "That will be the beginning of the next game. As for the Russians... they will be happy to see the Americans checkmated, and with us in their hands, they will have more leverage against the Americans. What we need is to maneuver and fight our way out in this predicament, so that the world can no longer ignore our existence."

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

　　
　
(End of this chapter)