Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 302 Where did SA-9 go?
Two hours later, looking at the date palms scattered all over the dock, Major Dobbin felt his blood rushing and his whole body was hot, like a balloon that was held to the extreme and was about to burst at any time.

He separated the soldiers who were sweating profusely from digging dates, rushed to the front of the container, and kicked the piles of dates wildly with his feet, as if he wanted to kick out the SA-9 missile system hidden under the dates.

"Impossible! How could they all be dates!?"

He looked at one container after another and finally had to accept the reality - there were no SA-9 missiles at all, only dates.

"Mr. Major, I said I'm a legitimate businessman. You've turned all my goods over, which has had a huge impact on my sales. I reserve the right to complain to your superiors!"

"damn it!"

Major Dobbin rushed to Song Heping in a rage, pulled out his pistol and pointed it at Song Heping's forehead.

"What rights do you think you have here?! I am the power!"

Song Heping laughed and said, "If you shoot, you will get into big trouble, Mr. Major. If you don't believe me, try it."

Dobbin's pistol had the safety on and his finger on the trigger.

A captain nearby stepped forward to stop him, "Major, he's Chinese..."

Dobbin turned and looked at his men.

The captain warned quietly: "We'll really get into trouble..."

Dobbin gnashed his back teeth, the muscles on his face twitched violently, and with a wave of his hand, he put the gun back into the holster and shouted, "Assemble the troops, let's retreat!"

The soldiers let go of Song Heping.

Song Heping stood up and insisted, "Mr. Major, I have $10,000 in your pocket."

Dobbin was stunned for a moment.

He really didn't want to return it.

But if this matter gets out of hand, I probably won’t be able to handle it myself.

The intelligence was clearly wrong.

I have to report this matter to my superiors. If the fact that I embezzled other people's money is exposed, I will be in a passive position.

He finally reached into his pocket, took out the ten thousand dollars and threw it in front of Song Heping, then snorted, turned around and got into the car and left.

Edmund walked up to Song Heping, looked at the military vehicles going away, and breathed a sigh of relief: "Boss Song, it's such a pleasure to work with you. Be sure to look for me if you have any orders in the future."

Song Heping nodded: "Yes, I will have a lot of cooperation with your boss in the future, don't worry."

“These goods…”

Edmund looked at the scattered date palms on the ground and asked tentatively, "Are you sure you still want to ship them to Mali?"

Song Heping bent down and picked up a bag of dates. He tore open the seal, took out one, put it in his mouth and began to chew it, saying, "Of course I have to luck it out. I have to do the whole show."

The news that the three containers were full of dates was quickly passed back to their headquarters by agents from various countries who had been lurking near the port of Assab.

The most embarrassing ones are the French.

Bal was scolded by his superior and listened to the lecture for half an hour on the phone.

"Sir, I think this is not a simple matter. This Song Heping and his SA-9 are not false intelligence. I still hold this judgment."

"Insist on judging? Then tell me your reasons!"

"Who would believe that a PMC company owner suddenly started a date palm business?! Besides, I saw it clearly when I was monitoring him near the dock just now. He was able to laugh even with a gun to his head. It's obvious that he had anticipated this outcome. Maybe someone leaked our operation."

"Barr, everything requires evidence, not just your guesses! Do you understand? We work in intelligence the same way. You can't convince your superiors based on your intuition. Even if I believe you, how can I mobilize the military to deal with this Song guy?! Just arrest him, kill him, and destroy the body?"

"SIR, this is a good idea..."

After all, Bal is an old agent, ruthless and efficient in his work.

People like him often only look at the results, not the process, let alone procedural justice.

In the world of agents, there are no rules.

"Barr, you've already been in the bureau for a long time. In two years, you'll be transferred back to headquarters and ready to retire. I hope you think carefully about every word you say, and don't equate talking with farting!"

After saying that, the phone was hung up heavily and a busy tone came from the other end.

Bal held the microphone, thought for a long time, and then gently put it back on the landline.

After a moment, he picked up the phone again and pressed the internal short number.

"Raymondo, come to my office." Soon, an agent with a sturdy build, a slight beard, a capable appearance and sharp eyes walked into Bal's office.

Bal pointed to the chair in front of him and asked him to sit down.

"Raymondo, have you heard what happened this morning?"

"I heard about it." Raimondo nodded slightly. "The Eritrean military didn't find anything."

"Yes."

Bal opened the filing cabinet, pulled out two folders, took out the bottle of brandy hidden in the back, and then took out two glasses, placing one in front of himself and the other in front of Raymondo.

Raimondo has been following Bal for seven years, which is not a short time.

Bal had a habit of drinking a glass of brandy before making any important decision, and he would also offer a glass to everyone else present.

In Bal's words, alcohol is something that can stimulate blood circulation and help the brain think.

"Our current situation is very serious. Although my superiors are very dissatisfied with our actions and have warned me not to make groundless accusations, I still stick to my opinion. This Song man must not live."

Raymondo seemed to understand what Bal meant, and took the glass and drank it all.

This is a hint.

Meaning he is willing to stand on Baal's side.

So he asked, "I understand. Do you want to kill him?"

Bal took a gulp of his wine, then sighed, "There's a 1% chance Song Heping is innocent, but I believe there's a 99% chance he's not. Sometimes in our line of work, we don't need 100% certainty. Even if there's only a 1% threat, we can still take action."

"According to original intelligence, this batch of SA-9 missiles was destined for the Sahel region and handed over to local armed forces. Those armed forces there are basically anti-government forces. Needless to say, the target of the attack is our troops, who are not deployed there. Over the past two years, military pressure in the Sahel region has been increasing. We're facing tremendous pressure. The Americans are constantly communicating with us, saying they want to support our counter-terrorism and counter-insurgency efforts here. In reality, I know their true intentions. They're just taking the opportunity to send a large number of special forces here, infiltrate and control the local government agencies, and slowly squeeze out our voice here..."

Raymond couldn't help but nodded.

France's intelligence station in North Africa is the largest intelligence station in Africa.

Raimondo served as director of operations here for seven years.

Even if he didn't know everything about the Americans' intentions, he was pretty sure of it.

When something happened in Mali, the French wanted to deploy a large number of troops to Mali, but because of years of disrepair of military equipment, the transportation capacity dropped significantly, and they were unable to transport 1000 soldiers to the site within three days.

In the end, it was the Americans who came to the rescue and dispatched more than a dozen large transport planes from their base in Germany to help solve the urgent problem.

But what was unexpected was that along with the dozen or so large transport planes, a group of Green Berets, a group of Delta Forces, and a service support company also landed.

They used the excuse that the armed groups in the Sahel region were linked to al-Qaeda in Afghanistan and stayed there...

It is easy to ask God but difficult to send Him away.

Being friends with Americans is deadly.

The Gallic chickens understood the intentions of their "ally".

As more and more minerals and oil have been discovered in Africa in recent years, it is not difficult to understand why Americans want to get involved in geopolitics here.

If the situation in Mali deteriorates again, or if armed groups in the Sahel region obtain more advanced weapons, the French army will find it difficult to cope and will have to send more troops. The Americans will definitely take this opportunity to send more troops here, which will eventually lead to thieves breaking into the Gauls' own backyard.

This is what Barr wants to prevent.

"Sir, you decide what to do, and I'll make the arrangements."

Raimondo gave the clearest answer.

Bal no longer concealed his words: "I want you to send someone to kill Song Heping and prevent him from reaching Mali."

Raymondo didn't say a word and agreed directly: "Okay, I'll arrange it immediately."

"and many more!"

Barr called out to Raymondo.

"Try not to use our own operatives. This way... we have quite a few black gloves here. Find a killer organization, provide them with the necessary weapons and supplies, and have them kill Song Heping directly. You will be responsible for monitoring the operation, and after that..."

He made a motion of wiping his neck.

"Clean it up and leave no traces."

"I know what to do," Raimondo said. "I'm sure you'll be satisfied."

　Happy August 1st Army Day!
　　Asking for a monthly ticket!
　　
　
(End of this chapter)