Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 1222: We must add more!
The next morning, just as dawn was breaking in the Green Zone, the roar of a huge propeller came from afar, violently shattering the tranquility of the early morning.

A formation of three helicopters flew overhead.

Two AH-64 Apache attack helicopters, each carrying missiles and rockets under their stub wings, flanked the UH-60 Black Hawk utility helicopter in the middle.

Inside the cabin, Simon peered through the thickened porthole, his gaze unfocused on the land rushing past below.

I didn't sleep well last night.

Kirkuk's mutation kept him awake all night.

The pressure from the White House forced him to call Song Heping that very night and shamelessly request a second round of negotiations.

Song Heping did give himself some face and did not close the door to negotiations.

Simon had a feeling this was his last chance.

"Damn Song..."

The curse churned within him.

Simon harbored a deep-seated fear of Song Heping.

Having dealt with him for years, Simon knew his opponent's style all too well.

He is like the most dangerous scorpion in the desert, usually lurking in the shadows, but once he moves, he will surely target your vitals and launch a fatal attack.

He arrived at the first negotiation with the aura of being the "American envoy" and a sense of superiority, but ended up getting a cold shoulder.

So what about this time?
cost.

These two words swirled and buzzed in his mind like flies.

This time, getting the other party to back down would inevitably come at a much higher price than before. He knew this even without thinking.

This time, I must be honest.

Otherwise, given Song Heping's personality, he would never give a third chance.

……

At 9 a.m., inside the backup command post in Dagug City.

Song Heping stood with his arms crossed in front of the military map, his gaze steadily fixed on the area marker representing Kirkuk.

There, he had drawn a striking circle with a scarlet marker.

Kirkuk is now their territory.

Soon after, the faint buzzing sound of helicopter rotors churning the air could be heard from afar outside the window.

He glanced down at his watch, then looked out the window, and knew that the "guest" had arrived as expected.

The visitor was Simon again.

CIA Director.

There was no invitation from me.

He called himself, almost pleading, to resume negotiations.

I won this round.

Win cleanly and decisively.

Now, the bargaining chips he holds have become more valuable than ever before due to the change of ownership of Kirkuk.

If we don't use this bargaining chip to take a big bite out of the Americans, we'd be letting down our former title as the second most wanted person on the CIA's most wanted list.

The Black Hawk helicopter landed slowly on a relatively flat open space in Dagug City. The cabin door opened, and Simon straightened his sharp suit. Accompanied by two bodyguards, he walked somewhat stiffly down the gangway and toward an armed pickup truck that was already waiting there.

There was no welcoming procession, no insincere pleasantries, only a few mercenaries holding AK-series rifles standing by the car watching him as he boarded.

That gaze seemed to be appraising several pieces of cargo that were about to be moved.

The journey was silent, save for the roar of the engine and the noise of the wheels rolling over gravel.

The atmosphere inside the car was so oppressive that it was hard to breathe.

Stepping back into that familiar temporary meeting room, Simon saw Song Heping already sitting leisurely in the head chair.

Before him sat a cup of steaming tea, the tea leaves unfurling slowly in the rough earthenware cup, making him appear even more composed, as if this were not the front line of war, but his own study in the backyard.

"Simon, we meet again."

Song Heping raised his eyes, his tone as calm as if he were discussing the weather.

"It seems the coffee in Washington can't compare to the coarse tea here, which is why you rushed back so eagerly?"

Simon suppressed the surging displeasure and humiliation in his heart and forced a slightly stiff smile on his face, saying, "Song, time is of the essence, so let's not beat around the bush. Congratulations on taking Kirkuk."

He deliberately used the word "take down," carrying a subtle probing tone.

"Oh?" Song Heping raised an eyebrow slightly, picked up his teacup, and slowly blew on the tea leaves floating on the surface of the water.

"'Take over'? Simon, your word choice... isn't quite accurate. I think 'recapture' or more directly 'take over' would be more appropriate. After all, that area wasn't American territory before, much less the private property of the Kold's people, right? Are you trying to talk to me about history?"

His tone was relaxed, but the barbs in his words were sharp and unforgiving.

Simon felt a tightness in his chest, but he forced himself to remain calm and changed the subject, saying, "Alright, let's not argue about the wording. Song, I'm here on behalf of Washington, hoping we can get back on track. Please have your people withdraw from Kirkuk, and then continue our sincere cooperation according to our original 'Metallic Crucible Project.' Your people should immediately advance towards Hurmatu and completely resolve the predicament in the northwest of Iligo. This is currently the most advantageous option for both of us."

"Withdraw from Kirkuk?"

Song Heping seemed to have heard the funniest joke of the century. He placed the teacup back on the table with a light touch, making a crisp "tap" sound. He leaned forward slightly, his sharp, hawk-like eyes fixed on Simon.

"Simon, are you kidding me, or do you think I, Song Heping, a private housing contractor, am running a charity and doing business at a loss?"

His voice suddenly rose several octaves: "My men shed blood, lost brothers, and fought tooth and nail to take Kirkuk from the enemy! You think you can just utter a casual 'withdraw' and expect me to spit out the meat that's already in my mouth? On what grounds? Just because you're Americans? Just because you Washington can make a few phone calls and send a few documents?"

"This isn't about who's who!"

Simon tried to persuade the other party with logic and rules, although he himself felt that his argument was somewhat weak: "The ownership of the Kirkuk oil field is itself an extremely complex historical and political issue; it was never yours to begin with..."

"Not before."

Song Heping interrupted him without any politeness, his tone filled with the unique contempt of a victor, "But now, it's mine. You don't believe me? You can call your 'allies' in Erbil right now, or send someone directly to the oil field area to see whose insignia are embroidered on the chests of those on guard duty! Is it the wolf head emblem of my 'Musician' Defense, or your Stars and Stripes! Or is it the flag of those old men in Erbil!"

Simon was speechless for a moment, his cheeks flushing slightly with embarrassment and anger.

Facts speak louder than words. In Iligo, a land that only believes in might and bullets, so-called legal principles and history are no match for established facts.

Now, the gun is in Song Heping's hands, and the oil field is under his actual control. That's the biggest truth.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice: "Song, I understand your... gains. But these conditions are insane! Too harsh, too greedy! Washington will absolutely not agree! And the Kold'd people won't agree either! That's their traditional territory, their lifeline!"

"Kolds?"

Song Heping chuckled, leaned back comfortably in his chair, and even casually crossed his legs, giving off an expression that said, "I saw right through you."

"Yesterday, you also firmly disagreed with my conditions, your attitude as stubborn as rocks in the Iligo Desert. So what about today? Why did you take the initiative to board a helicopter, risking being hit by stray bullets, to negotiate with me, a 'greedy' and 'crazy' person?"

He extended his index finger and rhythmically tapped the mottled wooden tabletop. The "tap, tap, tap" sound seemed not to be tapping on the table, but rather striking directly at Simon's heart, making the latter feel agitated.

"My energy is limited, and the lives of my men are worth more than any document in your Washington office! The only reason I'm sitting here calmly and talking to you today is because of you, Simon! Otherwise, what else could we do? Would your US military personally come and fight me with M1A2s? Or bomb me with F-15s? Don't forget, the mess you're dealing with in Hurmatu is still waiting for me to clean up! Without me, your 'Furnace Project' is a joke that can't even melt sand!"

These words tore away all pretense of civility, humiliating each other to the extreme, and fully displaying the attitude of a victor with absolute advantage.

He was using the most blunt language to despise the United States, the most powerful military superpower on this blue planet.

In the quagmire of Iligor, even the Americans had to bow down to this mercenary leader who commanded elite troops and occupied key locations, and obediently beg for cooperation!
Simon felt as if his lungs were on fire, with a burning, malevolent fire surging and raging in his chest, almost bursting out of his throat.

But he gritted his teeth and forced himself to suppress the rage that was enough to destroy his reason.

Because he knew better than anyone else that what Song Heping said was the stark truth!
Without Song Heping's support, the "Meltdown Project" would have been impossible!
Hurmatu's enemies will spread like cancer cells, and the price to be paid will likely be far more than just Kirkuk!
He could only forcefully suppress his temper and try to persuade Song with the so-called "big picture": "Song, I understand your position and your... gains. But we are the United States! International reputation, political impact... you can't completely ignore these! The Kurds are important allies of ours in the Middle East and an indispensable part of the overall counter-terrorism strategy. If you so brutally seize the territory they have built up over many years, we will not be able to explain it to the outside world. This will seriously affect the trust between our strategic partners and undermine the unity of the entire counter-terrorism alliance!"

Song Heping stared at Simon for a good ten seconds, his gaze seemingly able to penetrate one's heart.

Suddenly, he grinned: "Oh... I see. After all this time, it's not because the black gold beneath the Kirkuk oil field is that important, but because the Kold are your underlings whom you personally nurtured, and you feel it's a loss of face, right? You're afraid of alienating your underlings and making it harder to lead the troops in the future?"

Simon's truest thoughts were exposed, and his face instantly turned extremely ugly.

When the time came, he nodded, which was considered an admission of Song Heping's words.

Faced with absolute power, all carefully crafted diplomatic rhetoric and strategic considerations appear so pale and laughable.

"Ha ha!"

Song Heping clapped his hands loudly, as if he had solved a long-standing, century-old problem. "That makes things simple! The problem is solved!"

He abruptly stood up, walked a few steps to the huge military map on the wall, and forcefully pointed to the location of Kirkuk with his finger:
“I only want half of Kirkuk, with the Abuyu Brigade stationed there. You can publicly declare that the Abuyu Brigade, a Kold armed force, is providing support and jointly maintaining the security and stability of the oil field area!”

He couldn't help but laugh again as he said this.

"By the way, isn't Abyu a genuine Kold'd? Yes! His ancestors were! It's just that he's chosen to cooperate with me now and take my orders. Doesn't that solve the problem? We've preserved the pitiful face of your American daddy and your Kold'd allies, while also securing the actual benefits. A win-win situation! A perfect solution!"

"The Abuyu Brigade?!"

Simon was stunned, his eyes widening in disbelief.

He instantly understood Song Heping's scheme.

The Abuyu Brigade is indeed nominally a Khordish armed force, and its designation remains unchanged.

But everyone in the industry knows that this unit was completely incorporated and transformed by Song Heping half a year ago, becoming one of his sharpest ground combat knives!

By stationing the Abuyu Brigade, nominally the Kolds control the area, but in reality, the command and profit distribution rights are firmly in Song Heping's hands.
Isn't this just a classic case of changing the name but not the substance, a self-deceiving act?

This idea...

This is fucking ridiculous! It's an insult to Washington's intelligence!
but……

The moment that thought arose, another voice echoed in his mind: It seems... it's not entirely impossible...

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(End of this chapter)