Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 1240 Breakthrough

One hour later, Hurmatu, safe house.

This wretched place has a rather intimidating name, but it's really just an iron coffin buried underground—

Previously, it was unknown whether the cellar was used by some wealthy landowner to store grain or by the military government to stockpile artillery shells. Now, Song Heping has repurposed it, transforming it into a temporary prison and interrogation center.

Several meters underground, surrounded by thick concrete walls, with the latest signal jammers at maximum power, forget about cell phone signals, even a ghost would probably get lost.

Dealing with these Delta Force members requires caution. Although they were all searched when they were brought in, Song Heping knew that these guys sometimes implanted tracking chips in some hidden place on their bodies to locate themselves.

You must be careful when dealing with the Americans, or you will pay with your life.

The smell of the air in the basement was indescribable.

It smelled of musty, musty odor that hadn't been ventilated for decades, mixed with the pungent chlorine smell of disinfectant, and worst of all, there was a hint of bloody, rusty smell mixed in.

The combination of several flavors hits you right in the head, it's really intoxicating.

Several high-powered incandescent bulbs hung from the ceiling like little suns, their harsh, bright light piercing down and illuminating the small rooms divided by simple partitions, leaving no place for even a shadow to hide.

This bright light environment is itself a form of interrogation, which can quickly deplete a person's mental energy and disrupt their biological clock.

The five "treasures" that Jiang Feng had just captured were now kept separately in these brightly lit small cages.

Everyone's hands and feet were tightly bound to the cold steel chair legs with thickened military-grade nylon restraints at an extremely professional angle. Let alone struggling, even moving their buttocks was as difficult as climbing to heaven.

Those three Delta Force bosses—Captain "Tombstone," Vice-Captain, and the key figure JTAC "Guide"—are definitely tough opponents.

Even though everyone was wounded, their combat uniforms were torn to shreds by artillery fire and rocks, and their faces were covered in blood, sand, and sweat, their eyes were like those of a wild wolf that hadn't eaten for three days in the wilderness—cold, ruthless, and with a condescending contempt.

They knew perfectly well what they were worth and what these "mercenaries" wanted to pry out of them.

Song Heping didn't enter the suffocating interrogation room. Instead, he stood next door, calmly observing the "actors'" performance through a one-way glass window, like a director.

On one side of the glass, all was silent; on the other, a brutal battle of wills had begun.

Jiang Feng personally oversaw the operation, directing several "professionals" carefully selected from the camp to focus on the captain's "tombstone."

These guys in charge of the interrogation are all from impressive backgrounds.

Some had risked their lives fighting Chechen bandits in Eastern European special forces, some had hunted down drug lords in the South American rainforest, and one was even a "retired" personnel who used to do "wet work" for a certain country's intelligence agency. All of them had been retrained in the hellish "hunter" school in Venezuela run by Gray Wolf, and were proficient in all kinds of "communication skills" that could get tough guys talking.

They were all burly men with no human emotion in their eyes, only the coldness of carrying out a mission.

The air in the interrogation room was so thick it was hard to breathe.

An Eastern European mercenary with a heavy Slavic accent slowly repeated his opening remarks in a eulogy-like tone: "Name. Rank. Unit number. Mission. Target location. Reception method."

The "tombstone" had droopy eyelids and a vacant gaze, as if it were lost in thought. Only the barely perceptible rise and fall of its chest proved that it was still alive.

A burly man with a full beard next to him clearly didn't have the patience. He picked up a crackling high-voltage stun gun, the eerie blue arc of electricity at the tip leaping and emitting a chilling "crackling" sound.

Seeing that the "tombstone" did not react, the bearded man pressed the electric shock head hard onto the "tombstone's" already torn and exposed forearm without saying a word!

"Ugh—!"

The "tombstone" seemed to be instantly electrified, springing upwards before being mercilessly pulled back into the chair by the restraints.

His entire body convulsed and spasmed wildly and uncontrollably, the veins on his neck bulged like twisted earthworms, and a beast-like growl of pain squeezed out from deep in his throat.

Sweat instantly poured from every pore of his body, soaking through his tattered combat uniform.

The current lasted a full thirty seconds before it abruptly stopped.

The "tombstone" was like a fish thrown ashore, slumped in a chair, panting heavily, its forehead covered in cold sweat, its lower lip bitten open, blood mixed with saliva dripping down.

But his eyes remained empty, unable to see anything, and his jaw was clenched, and he didn't utter a single word.

"Damn, it seems the people from Delta are really stubborn."

The Eastern European mercenary spat and winked at the bearded man.

The bearded man grinned maliciously, put down the stun gun, and picked up a short wooden stick carefully wrapped in thick canvas.

He circled around to the side and behind the "tombstone," his gaze precisely locking onto the gruesome wound on the other's ribs, plowed out by shrapnel. With a sudden flick of his wrist, the stick tip whistled through the air and pierced in with unparalleled precision, then twisted sharply!
"Cough... Heh..."

The "tombstone's" body instantly arched like a shrimp. The intense pain made his vision go black, and he almost suffocated. His eyeballs bulged outward uncontrollably, and saliva mixed with blood and foam flowed uncontrollably from the corners of his mouth, dripping onto the dirty ground.

This is just an appetizer.

The following time was spent in a series of torture demonstrations.

A blinding spotlight shines directly into your face; deafening noise blares in your ears, nearly tearing your eardrums; the most agonizing is waterboarding—a towel is placed over your face, and icy water is poured down relentlessly, simulating the extreme terror of drowning…

Various methods were employed in turn, with a naked and clear objective.

It exhausts the physical strength of the person being interrogated, breaks their will, and causes their physical and psychological defenses to collapse simultaneously.

Song Heping stood silently behind the one-way glass for nearly half an hour, his brows furrowed into a deep frown.

"Jiang Feng, come out for a moment." Suddenly, he grabbed the internal communicator and called Jiang Feng out.

"See that? These are Delta's top aces; counter-interrogation training is ingrained in their DNA. If they keep grinding at this intensity, don't expect to hear a single useful word in two or three days."

When Jiang Feng came to his side, Song Heping said in a low voice, "We don't have that much time to waste with them."

He raised his wrist, tapped the watch face, and gestured for Jiang Feng to check the time.

"The Americans aren't stupid. Their satellites, drones, and electronic surveillance equipment aren't just for show. If a complete Delta Force team goes missing on our territory, they can quickly pinpoint it to us. A complete break with the US military and going to war is not the outcome we want; the cost would be too high."

He abruptly changed the subject, his eyes gleaming with calculating cunning: "But we have a better way of playing. A way that will make them swallow their pride and suffer in silence. The key is—speed! We must fight speed with speed! Before the Americans find solid evidence and make up their minds to take action, we will strike first, deliver a resounding slap, and slap their thoughts of war right back into their stomachs!"

"If only Klein were here..."

Jiang Feng couldn't help but sigh, his tone filled with regret.

Klein is a recognized interrogation master in "Musician" Defense, with unpredictable and cunning methods. Even top special forces soldiers cannot last more than an hour in front of him.

Unfortunately, distant water cannot quench immediate thirst.

"We can't count on him anymore."

Song Heping's tone was resolute, "Interrogating these tough nuts is too inefficient. Change targets immediately! Bring those two ISOF members here! They've been on missions with Delta Force, so they must have some skills, but in terms of willpower? Compared to those killing gods inside, they're like kindergarteners! They are our fastest breakthrough point!"

"understand!"

Jiang Feng's eyes lit up, and he immediately understood Song Heping's intention. He turned around and went to make the arrangements.

A few minutes later, the two Iraqi ISOF members were dragged into separate interrogation rooms.

One of the young men, who looked to be in his early twenties and whose eyes were filled with fear and confusion, was "luckily" chosen as the person to receive special care.

Dealing with these inexperienced greenhorns is far more cost-effective than taking on seasoned veterans.

The interrogation procedures were largely the same, but the results were immediate, creating a stark contrast.

The moment the stun gun touched his skin, before the current had even fully dissipated, the young man let out a shrill scream that sounded inhuman. His whole body trembled violently as if he had been electrocuted, and he huddled in the chair, shaking like a leaf in the autumn wind.

Experienced interrogators are skilled and deliberately target areas with the highest concentration of pain receptors, such as the finger joints, armpits, and the back of the neck.

A few precise blows and electric shocks completely broke him down. He cried his heart out, his face covered in snot and tears, pleading indistinctly in Arabic.

Finally, after the interrogators used wet towels and plastic buckets to subject the young man to waterboarding twice, his psychological defenses completely collapsed.

The primal fear of suffocation overwhelmed everything.

"I'll talk! I'll tell you everything! Please... let me go... please stop... please stop doing that... I'll talk..."

After another round of water torture, he was almost completely exhausted, slumped in a chair like a lump of mud, and began to beg for mercy in broken English with a heavy sob in his voice.

"Speak! What exactly is your mission in sneaking into Hurmatu?!"

The bearded man seized the opportunity to press for answers.

"It's...it's reconnaissance...location..."

The young man sobbed, his words trembling with fear as he recounted the events. "Sir... the sir ordered us... to cooperate... to cooperate with the Americans... to sneak out of Hurmatu... to use... to use their advanced observation equipment... to find... to find your boss... Song Heping... to see him... to see if he's in the city... specifically... specifically in which house he's hiding..."

"And then what?! What do you plan to do?!"

The bearded man pressed on relentlessly, giving him no chance to breathe.

"Then...then we just wait for orders...that...that 'guide' with the big antenna on his back...he'll...he'll call in planes...to...to carry out precision bombing...to take him out..."

The young man's voice was filled with despair and fear as he began to pour out the beans.

"The time... they said... the location must be completed within 48 hours..."

"Who gave the order?! Where did it come from?!"

"Yes...it came through a top-secret channel...directly...directly from the Coalition Special Operations Command...We...we were just doing the grunt work for the Delta guys...leading the way...the specifics...the liaison and coordination...were handled by Colonel Kurt's people..."

Become!

The most crucial confession is in hand!
Jiang Feng immediately delivered the compiled interrogation records and the video recording the entire process of the ISOF team members' breakdown to Song Heping.

Looking at the crooked signature on the record sheet and the young face in the video distorted by extreme fear, Song Heping's lips curled into a cold smile.

“Excellent! This is exactly what we need, irrefutable proof to ‘nail’ them!”

Song Heping slapped Jiang Feng on the shoulder and said, "If the Americans want to play dirty tricks, we'll play big with them and be on the right side so they can't complain!"

His eyes gleamed with an air of absolute control, and he immediately began issuing a series of clear and decisive commands:
"Make the highest-resolution backup of all interrogation records, especially this kid's confession and the video of his breakdown, with audio, video, and text transcripts—all three to ensure an impeccable chain of evidence!"

After saying that, he laughed and said, "Looks like I need to have a good chat with those old guys at the Pentagon and make them make some choices."

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

　　
　
(End of this chapter)