Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 703 Escape from Beirut

Seven days later.

Dusk always comes quickly in Beirut.

Song Heping stood behind the rusty containers at the port, watching the sunset dye the Mediterranean blood red.

The salty sea breeze, carrying the smell of diesel, blew in his face, and his wound began to ache again.

The gunshot wound on the right chest has almost recovered. After all, it is not a serious injury. Although the armor-piercing bullet broke the bulletproof plate, it did not penetrate the lung lobe. It is considered a superficial injury.

Jiang Feng leaned on the container next to him. The two of them were standing so that they could see behind each other, forming a cross-line of vision, a typical alert position.

"Ten minutes left," Song Heping checked his watch. "The Ghost should be arriving soon."

Jiang Feng nodded and looked around vigilantly.

The port is noisy: cranes roar, cargo ships whistle loudly, and workers shout in Arabic.

The noise actually soothes them—it's easier to hide in the chaos.

Last night, Song Heping and Jiang Feng took advantage of the night to leave the southern part of the fence.

Before leaving, they only said that they had an important matter to deal with in Beirut and would be back around tonight.

This is just a lie.

Because the two of them had no intention of coming back.

Song Heping tightened his jacket. This piece of clothing, which he had picked up from a clothes drying rack, had a fishy smell that was slightly pungent.

Jiang Feng was wearing a dirty work suit and looked like an ordinary dock worker.

Both of them were made up.

Otherwise, with Mossad's reconnaissance capabilities, they would probably have been recognized and reported before reaching Beirut.

Last night, Chen contacted Song Heping again and asked him and Jiang Feng to go to Beirut to find a guy code-named "Ghost".

Chen told Song Heping that under the current circumstances, even Afanti might not be able to leave the fence and break through the surveillance of Mossad and CIA.

Song Heping asked jokingly, can you do it?

Chen said, it really can, not 100%, but at least 90%.

Song Heping felt a little skeptical after hearing this.

It’s not that I doubt the ability of my old unit.

But Mossad has always been well-known. Over the years, the operations they organized and the people they hunted seemed to have little chance of failure.

But at this point, I have to trust Chen.

As agreed, at four o'clock in the afternoon, the Ghost would be waiting for them beside a fishing boat called the Seagull, which was docked at Pier 3. Its hull was painted blue and white, and a fence-line flag was hung on its mast.

Song Heping's eyes swept across the port and quickly locked onto the target.

He took a deep breath and began to move towards Pier 3. Jiang Feng followed behind at a distance of seven or eight meters.

Every step had to be taken carefully, avoiding the patrolling port police and being wary of Mossad agents who might be lurking in the dark.

The encounter a week ago made them realize that the hoopoe was determined to kill them this time.

When he was fifty meters away from the fishing boat, Song Heping stopped.

Not right.

Two men stood on the deck of a fishing boat, one wearing a straw hat and the other in blue overalls, checking the nets.

Their movements seemed casual, but Song Heping noticed that the man wearing the straw hat would look up and glance around from time to time, while the man in work clothes never left his right hand from his waist.

These are no ordinary fishermen.

Cold sweat broke out on Song Heping's back.

He slowly retreated, preparing to evacuate.

At this moment, he heard footsteps behind him. He turned around and saw a tall and thin man walking towards him.

The man was wearing a gray windbreaker and holding a newspaper.

He walked steadily, looking straight ahead, as if he were just a passerby. But Song Heping noticed that the man's left hand was in his pocket, and his right hand was holding a newspaper in an unnatural position - there was probably a gun hidden under it.

Song Heping's heartbeat began to accelerate. He slowly reached for his waist, where a Glock 17 pistol was tucked.

The man came closer.

Twenty meters.

Fifteen meters.

ten meters.

Song Heping's finger was already on the trigger.

Suddenly, the man stopped, raised the newspaper to cover his face, and whispered, "What a beautiful sunset today, isn't it?"

This is the code for the connection.

Song Heping breathed a sigh of relief, but remained vigilant: "Yes, especially when viewed from the Mediterranean."

The man put down the newspaper, revealing a sharp-edged face.

He looked to be about forty years old, with deep wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, but his eyes were as sharp as an eagle.

"I am a ghost," he said. "Follow me."

Song Heping didn't move: "Are those two on the deck your men?"

“No,” Ghost’s expression hardened. “Those are Mossad. They arrived faster than we expected.”

Before he could finish his words, a gunshot was suddenly heard in the distance.

The ghost pounced on Song Heping, and the three of them rolled behind the container.

The bullet hit the metal box, making a sharp sound.

"Damn it!" the ghost cursed. "They've found us!"

Song Heping looked over and saw that the two men on the deck had already drawn their weapons and were moving towards them.

To make matters worse, several more people in black T-shirts appeared at the port entrance.

From his figure, pace, and even the way he walked, you can tell at a glance that he is a military personnel, definitely not an ordinary citizen.

"This way!" The ghost grabbed Song Heping's arm and ran in the opposite direction.
Jiang Feng also drew his pistol and followed behind. They crossed the docks piled with goods, and the sound of gunfire continued behind them.

The bullets hit the container, sending sparks flying. Song Heping felt a slight pain in his right chest wound, the intense movement causing the wound to ache, but he didn't care. The most important thing now was to get out of here alive.

The ghost led them into a narrow alley.

The alley was dark and filled with garbage and discarded fishing nets.

The air was filled with the stench of decay.

"Turn left ahead," the ghost gasped. "There's a white van."

Song Heping nodded.

He could hear the footsteps of his pursuers approaching.

After turning the corner, I saw a dilapidated van parked on the side of the road.

The ghost took out the key, but before he could open the door, a voice with a Hebrew accent came from behind him: "Stop! You can't run away!"

Song Heping turned around and saw three armed men blocking the alley entrance.

"Damn Mossad!"

He really wanted to go back and kill these three.

Mossad is really like super glue standing on your hand, you can't get rid of it.

Being entangled by such an opponent is very annoying and painful.

Song Heping could almost foresee that he would be engaged in a fierce battle with Mossad for some time in the future.

In a skirmish, speed is the key.

Without hesitation, Song Heping raised his hand and fired two shots.

One person was shot and fell to the ground, and the other dodged in time and was hit in the right shoulder.

The third enemy was so frightened that he didn't even care about his companions. He shot at Song Heping frantically from the corner of the wall at the alley entrance.

“Get in the car!”

Ghost had already jumped in the car and started the engine.

Song Heping opened the car door, pushed Jiang Feng in first, and then jumped in himself.

The bullet immediately hit the car door, making a bullet hole in it.

Fortunately, no one in the car was hit.

Ghost stepped on the accelerator and the van rushed out like an arrow.

In the rearview mirror, the pursuers were shooting at them.

A bullet hole appeared on the windshield, but the ghost was unmoved. He steered the wheel as skillfully as an old dog and drove through the narrow streets.

Song Heping looked at him, guessing his identity countless times in his mind.

Agent?

Overseas operations personnel?

He was a little excited.

I suddenly thought that if I had stayed in 203, I would probably know more and do more for the country.

Everything is fate.

“Fasten your seatbelts,” Ghost said. “We’re going to Old Town.”

Vans speed through the streets of Beirut.

The afterglow of the setting sun cast a golden hue on the war-torn city.

The streets are lined with typical fenced-off buildings, and the mottled walls are covered with bullet holes, telling the turbulent history of this city.

Song Heping leaned back in his seat, feeling the burning pain in his wound.

He lifted his collar and found some blood seeping from the gauze on the wound.

"Hold on," the ghost said, glancing at him. "Our men are ahead."

"Did you know this was a trap?" Song Heping asked.

The ghost shook his head. "That's right. We need to give them the illusion that we're retreating by water."

As he spoke, he kept looking at Song Heping.

"From 203?"

Song Heping blushed: "I was selected, but I withdrew due to some personal matters."

Ghost said, "No wonder you're so skilled. You should have been in the top three during the selection, right? Most students can't do what you do. If you had joined 203, you'd probably be a captain by now."

After hearing what "Ghost" said, Song Heping felt even more embarrassed.

The sentiment deep in his bones made him feel as if he had done something wrong. He could have served the country, but now he was the boss of a PMC and had done all kinds of bad things.

The Ghost seemed to see his embarrassment and said cheerfully, "There's nothing to be embarrassed about. Everyone has their own destiny. Look, you're doing pretty well overseas now, aren't you? If you have the chance in the future, you can work for us and make up for your feelings."

Song Heping smiled bitterly and said, "I'm a drug lord, a PMC company owner, and now the leader of the KB organization. What can I do?"

The Ghost said: "To deal with darkness, you must make yourself darker."

His eyes fell on Song Heping's face again, and he said very seriously: "Clean people can't do our job."

The van turned into an alley and stopped in front of an old apartment building.

"Ghost" turned off the engine and got out of the car, motioning Song Heping and Jiang Feng to follow.

They walked quickly into the building and climbed up the stairs.

Song Heping noticed that the ghost's footsteps were so light that they were almost inaudible.

This is an experienced old agent.

Arriving on the fourth floor, the ghost knocked on a green door.

Three long and two short.

The door opened and a middle-aged woman wearing glasses poked her head out.

"Come on in," she said. "I'm ready."

(End of this chapter)