Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 789 The Fish Has Taken the Bait

ten minutes later.

MI6 headquarters in London.

Ms. M put down the intelligence summary in her hand, took off her glasses, and rubbed the bridge of her nose. On the video screen in front of her, Pence's face looked particularly gloomy under the blue light.

"Are you sure this intelligence is reliable?" Ms. M asked, her voice weary. "Uranium enrichment technology? Do you think a PMC company owner like Song Heping could get his hands on that? Even if he could, who gave it to him? China would never be so reckless."

“We intercepted communications from the head of the Persian Revolutionary Guard’s Special Technical Department,” Pence replied. “He explicitly mentioned ‘gifts from the East’ and ‘game-changing technology.’ The timing and location matched Song Heping’s itinerary.”

"The East? Perhaps you're referring to Song Heping, who comes from the East." Ms. M pondered for a moment. "Given our consistent restrictions on Persia's uranium enrichment program, no country would take that risk. Are you being too sensitive?"

What about the Russian factor?

Mossad's deputy director, Levin, suddenly blurted out.

"The information we have obtained indicates that Yevgeny, one of the founders of the former 'Musician' defense and a former partner of Song Heping, is now quite close to high-ranking officials in Russia. Could it be that the Russians are behind this?"

The people of the Hoopoe Kingdom were most sensitive to Persia's condensation plan.

After all, if Persia possesses mushrooms, it will pose the greatest threat to them. Mossad dreams every day about how to destroy Persia. As long as Persia ceases to exist, the pressure on them in the ZD region will drop dramatically.

"This is the most worrying part."

Pence pulled out a file: "In the past six months, Song Heping secretly visited Moscow, met with Yevgeny, the man known as 'The Cook,' and had private talks. Even after the Cook left Ilya, the two maintained contact. Levin said this is very likely. We all know that the Russians have almost no moral bottom line when it comes to mushroom technology transfer."

"If the Russians use Song Heping as an intermediary..."

Ms. M's voice gradually turned cold.

"This will completely bypass the existing sanctions system."

“Exactly,” Pence nodded. “Worse still, we’ve received information that the Persians have a means of payment ready—they can transfer benefits to Song Heping through their oil interests in Venezuela, where Song Heping happens to be a VIP, with a military academy affiliated with the military but actually controlled by Song Heping. This makes the whole thing seem like a perfect transaction.”

Ms. M stood up and walked to the window, looking at the London night view: "So you think Song Heping's unusually small-scale operation this time..."

“It’s a cover,” Pence continued. “The fewer people there are, the less likely they are to attract attention. They may have already transported the technical data to Darfur through other channels, just waiting for Song Heping to complete the final handover with the Persians.”

"Do we need to act immediately?"

Pence hesitated: "The risk is too great. Song Heping is no ordinary target. We've suffered heavy losses in all his previous operations. According to our records, he once served in a very secretive special forces unit in China, but we can't find any information about it. However, if I'm not mistaken, it should be the legendary Unit 203. We've clashed with them many times, and frankly, we didn't gain the upper hand. This explains why Song Heping is so formidable. Therefore, we must be extremely cautious. What if this operation fails, or worse—if any of our personnel are captured alive?"

"But if we do nothing, the Persians could have weapons-grade enriched uranium within six months."

Ms. M turned around, her eyes sharp. "We can't afford this risk."

The three people on the screen fell silent.

The video conferencing system emitted a slight electrical hum, as if it too was weighing the pros and cons.

"We must never allow this technology to enter Persia!"

Levin was the most resolute and the first to object.

"If you are too cowardly to take any action, Mossad will personally deploy this operation! Nothing can stop us! We'll do it ourselves without you!"

Levin's rudeness drew Ms. M's attention.

It's important to understand that all three are ultimately business partners.

Levin is now openly disregarding the other two parties, namely the prestigious British MI6 and the American CIA, showing utter arrogance.

Did they act on their own?

Haha, if they cause trouble, won't the Americans have to clean up their mess?

Ms. M turned her attention to Pence, awaiting his final decision.

After all, this matter is more closely related to Americans and people from the country of the hoopoe.

As for myself... I only lost a few people at Song Heping's hands.

Compared to Americans and Hoopoeians, they are nothing.

Moreover, Ms. M was well aware that the Americans had begun to take advantage of the situation in Africa.

Relying on its national strength and power, it is gradually squeezing the influence of France and Great Britain out of the Sahel region.

Ms. M knew exactly what Americans wanted.

In front of Pence and Levin, she suddenly seemed to step outside the circle and see herself clearly.

Why rush?

Ha ha.

The people who should be worried are the Americans and the people of Hoopoe Country.

Finally, Pence took a deep breath: "I will request green light from the president. A Delta Force team is on standby in Djibouti and can reach Darfur within eight hours."

Levin nodded. "The 'Wild Boys' unit can also provide support. But we need more precise intelligence to confirm the specific content and location of this meeting."

“It’s already arranged,” Pence said. “We have informants within the North Sudanese army, should Song Heping show up with technical data.”

“Then intercept them at all costs,” Levin said coldly. “Even if it means direct conflict with the Russians, we must! We absolutely cannot let the technical data fall into the hands of the Persians, into the hands of that Nasreddin of the Revolutionary Guard!”

"Then let's decide."

Pence glanced at his watch.

"It should be dark over there now. We need to mobilize resources and make deployments immediately. We should be able to start the operation in the second half of the night. The forward command post must be established within 3 hours. We can set up the command post in the Beldoba region of Chad under the name of a research team. It is close to North Darfur and no more than 100 kilometers away, making it the best forward command point. In addition, our Green Hat troops deployed in the Sahel region can also quickly enter Sudan, obtain false UN identities, and then be quickly deployed there by helicopter."

"Impersonating UN personnel again?"

Ms. M felt that Pence's decision was risky.

"Besides this, ma'am, do you have a better way to deploy to North Darfur in a few hours?" Pence asked rhetorically.

Ms. M shrugged lightly: "Okay, then we'll do it your way."

Eight o'clock at night.

Dusk falls suddenly in Darfur, as if someone has drawn a curtain from the sky.

Song Heping ordered the convoy to stop at a dry riverbed and set up a temporary camp.

The mercenaries got to work quickly and quietly, setting up camouflage netting and a makeshift security system within three minutes.

Song Heping walked to a slightly higher sand dune and looked westward. The setting sun dyed the entire desert blood-red, and the wind blew across the dunes, making a low, mournful sound.

He turned on his encrypted satellite phone and dialed a number.

“Everything is going well,” he said in code. “How is my guest now?”

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone, then a hoarse voice said, "A storm is forming and is expected to reach you within six hours."

Finally, he added, "Could you send me a message before calling me? Otherwise, you could easily get me into trouble!"

"I'm sorry, Simon, I'll be more careful next time."

Song Heping hung up the phone, a cold smile appearing on his lips.

"Storm" is their agreed-upon code word, referring to the reaction of Western intelligence agencies.

Judging from the information provided by Simon, the mole, Pence and his team still couldn't hold back.

The fish finally started biting the hook.

(End of this chapter)