Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 862 Airport Assassination
Bucharest International Airport, departure hall.

Agent Johnson from Group A stood in a corner of the waiting hall, his eyes fixed on the check-in gate.

The electronic clock in the lobby shows the time as 10:21 AM.

According to intelligence leaked from MI6, Song Heping's flight will land in 30 minutes.

However, Johnson seemed somewhat nonchalant.

Wright, Song's superior, believed that it was impossible for Song Heping to take this flight to Bucharest.

Because nobody is stupid enough to reveal specific flight numbers over an unreliable phone line.

Analysts believe it was a smokescreen.

The aim was to lure CIA operatives to the airport and cover up the fact that they had landed at Colorado Airport.

Everyone agreed that Wright's judgment was correct.

No one paid attention to Simon's advice.

How can a defeated general speak of bravery?
"How's the situation over there?"

Johnson pressed the radio call button hidden in his cuff, making a scheduled call as usual.

"I haven't found anything unusual on my end."

"I don't have one here either."

"I doubt that someone surnamed Song will enter the country here."

"He was on the list of KB members, so it was impossible for him to enter through the civilian air route. The risk was too great, and the Romanian police would not let him go."

"I reckon they will really land at Colorado Airport, since it's a private airport and immigration checks aren't as strict as here."

"Who cares? There are still more than twenty minutes left. If we don't see Song Heping when the flight arrives, we can leave."

Several colleagues, scattered in different parts of the hall, began to idly discuss Song Heping.

"Let's be careful."

As the team leader, Johnson was much more vigilant than the others.

"Don't let your guard down, you can leave after about half an hour."

As he said this, he couldn't help but yawn.

I haven't slept well these days.

In order to capture Song Heping, the members of the task force were under high pressure and on standby and working day and night.

He began to miss the California beach sunshine.

After this operation is over, I can apply for a vacation, and I definitely want to go to the beach and surf some more.

Just as Johnson finished yawning and closed his mouth, a group of passengers walked past him.

A woman dragging a suitcase, who looked like she was in a hurry to check in, blew past him like the wind and accidentally brushed against him.

"Be careful, ma'am!"

Johnson couldn't help but remind the other party.

He looked down at his left arm.

It seems that the woman bumped into my left arm.

There seemed to be nothing unusual in the area.

He couldn't help but laugh.

I'm being too neurotic.

She's just a woman; what damage could a light touch cause?
When I touched myself just now, my left arm felt a slight stinging sensation. I don't know if it was the other person's suitcase handle that hit me, but it felt a little numb.

11:10 minutes.

Turkish Airlines flight T2322 has landed and entered the tarmac. Shuttle buses have been set up, and passengers are disembarking from the plane and walking along the passageway to the exit.

In the safe house in Bucharest, Wright stood at the table, staring at the live footage captured by hidden cameras on the agents on the scene, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the surface.

"Team A reports: Everything is normal at the airport; no suspicious targets have been detected."

The agent's voice came through the earpiece, and Wright gave a cold laugh.

As expected, Song Heping didn't come at all.

He turned to look at another screen—Team B had arrived at the outskirts of the Crolasi private airport. The drone footage showed several black SUVs parked on the edge of the runway, and several burly men on guard near the tarmac.

These people were clearly combat personnel who had received military training; each of them had a bulge in their waist, presumably for a pistol or similar weapon.

"Target spotted!" Team B leader reported in a low voice, "Suspected trained military personnel, awaiting backup."

Wright's lips curled up slightly.

He made the right bet.

As expected, Song Heping chose Croatia instead of foolishly following the original plan to fly Turkish Airlines to Bucharest.

"Keep a close watch, prepare for a surprise attack," he ordered. "This time, the initiative is in our hands. I demand that you capture Song Heping alive."

However, just as he gave the order, a series of static noises suddenly came through his headset, followed by the rapid breathing of the Team A agents.

"Sir! There's been an incident at the airport!"

Wright abruptly turned his head to look at the airport surveillance footage—the camera suddenly started shaking as a CIA agent appeared to be clutching his chest, staggering forward a few steps before collapsing heavily to the ground!
The camera quickly focused on the ceiling of the waiting hall. The snow-white dome and bright lights illuminated the entire screen, making it dazzlingly white.

"Johnson! What happened to Charlie?!" Wright glanced at the fallen agent's badge number and immediately asked sharply.

"I don't know! He suddenly..."

Before Johnson could finish speaking, the camera started shaking. Soon, he collapsed to the ground like the first agent to fall, the dull thud of a body hitting the ground was audible, and it looked painful even through the screen.

"FUCK! What's going on?!"

Wright's face turned pale instantly.

Something went wrong!

These agents fell one by one.

A word flashed through his mind—assassination!

"Johnson! Answer me! Did you hear me?!"

"Sir...my heart..."

Johnson's voice was laced with groans, sounding very painful.

Immediately afterwards, a third agent collapsed, exhibiting the exact same symptoms—

His face was deathly pale, and his lips were purple, as if he had suffered a sudden heart attack.

Wright felt as if an unseen hand was squeezing his heart tightly.

Something is going to happen!
Song Heping will really come in through the civil aviation channel at the airport!

This madman!

Simon's prediction was correct!
You've fallen into a trap!
This is not a "two-pronged strategy," but a typical "three-layered nested" strategy—the first step is to deliberately leak the wrong flight information to MI6 (Turkish Airlines), inducing Western intelligence agencies to believe it is a smokescreen; the second step is to create a stir in Croatia through the GRU, making the opponent believe that the real route is here; finally, taking advantage of the opponent's misjudgment, the first confirmed route is directly adopted!

"Team B! Immediately verify the armed personnel at the Croris private airport!"

He realized something was wrong and issued the order to act ahead of time.

"Yes, sir!"

At Croatia's private airport, seven or eight SUVs rushed onto the tarmac.

A private plane that had just entered the tarmac hadn't even come to a complete stop when several SUVs arrived from different directions and surrounded it.

Meanwhile, the burly men who had been on guard by the tarmac turned around and drew their pistols from their waists.

"They have weapons!"

Inside the SUV, the B team leader loudly reported over the radio.

"Be careful!"

Then he picked up the megaphone and started shouting at the bewildered, surrounded armed men: "You're surrounded! Drop your weapons, cover your heads and lie down! Don't make us shoot you to meet your God!"

The armed men looked at each other, then the leader shouted, "Who are you?!"

"Romanian Secret Service"

The leader of Group B directly stated the name of the unit.

The Secret Service is responsible for counterterrorism operations.

Therefore, saying this name is very intimidating.

Moreover, the CIA's operation here was indeed authorized by the Romanian government. After 9/11, counterterrorism was a globally politically correct issue, and no government dared to refuse a joint counterterrorism operation, especially since this involved important figures on the UN's list of terrorists.

The door of the Gulfstream private jet opened, and an elderly man in a suit slowly stepped out.

The old man was stunned by what he saw.

"what happened?!"

He raised his hand as he spoke.

The leader of the armed men turned around and said, "Mr. Johnny, these men say they are from the Secret Service and they want us to surrender immediately."

"surrender?!"

The old man looked bewildered.

"I am the president of MKK Group. I am here to discuss investment matters with your government. I am not a terrorist. These are my bodyguards!"

He was clearly a little angry.

The leader of Team B was also taken aback.

President of MKK Group?

Are they here to discuss investment projects with the Romanian government?

SHIT!

There must be a mistake!
Now that things have come to this, there's no turning back.

He picked up the megaphone again and shouted, "I don't care what kind of group you are, get off the plane immediately, lie down on the ground, and tell all your men to drop their weapons, put their hands on their heads, and lie face down, now! Otherwise, I will use force!"

Poor old Johnny looked at the dozens of dark gun barrels pointed at him around him. Although he had seen a lot, he still felt the urge to urinate.

"OK! OK! Don't shoot!"

He shouted at the bodyguards, "Do as they say, lay down your weapons and surrender."

Afterwards, he shouted in the direction of the B team leader, "I protest! I protest against your Secret Service's reckless actions! I want to see the president!"

As he spoke, he waved his ivory cane in protest.

Seeing this somewhat comical scene, the leader of Group B also felt uncertain. He picked up the walkie-talkie and began to contact Wright.

"Sir, something's not right..."

(End of this chapter)