Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 895 A Crazy Plan!
The air in the room seemed to freeze.

Everyone stared at Song Heping, as if he had just said he wasn't going to raid the presidential palace, but rather that he was going to take a walk on Mars.

"Sergeant, this idea is fucking insane!"

Jiang Feng was the first to break the silence.

His voice was very low and filled with disbelief.

"We don't even have a decent rifle. How are we going to storm the presidential palace? With this?"

He fiddled with the Glock 17 pistol in his hand for a moment, and then laughed at himself.

Song Heping ignored Jiang Feng's questioning and turned to Hassan: "I need the assistance of your militia organization. What kind of assistance can you provide for us?"

“We don’t have the capability to attack the presidential palace…” Hassan was an honest man and said truthfully, “But we can create chaos to attract the government forces’ attention, and we might even be able to mobilize the guards near the presidential palace to reduce some of the pressure on you.”

“Not enough.” Song Heping shook his head: “We need precise intelligence—the deployment inside the presidential palace, Noel’s exact location, and the changing of the guard time.”

The room fell silent again.

Hassan couldn't answer that question either.

From the corner, the female communications officer who had been silent all along suddenly spoke up: "I...I have an inside contact."

Everyone looked at her.

She timidly raised her hand and said, "My cousin is a food supplier for the Presidential Palace kitchen. She...she can help."

Song Heping narrowed his eyes: "You can contact her?"

The girl nodded: "Okay."

“Very good, then contact her immediately.” Song Heping turned to Hassan: “Provide me with some information needed for the operation immediately. We need the internal layout of the presidential palace and Noel’s schedule.”

Song Heping's eyes lit up, and he turned to the others in the room: "We don't need a frontal assault. We need Hassan and his men to create chaos, divert the guards' attention, and then slip in through the back door's garbage chute."

Ferrari stopped spinning his pistol and narrowed his eyes. "You mean, let the opposition militia create chaos near the presidential palace?"

"It's not just riots."

Song Heping drew a circle on the map around the presidential palace, indicating the area: "We need to make them think that the opposition army has infiltrated the city and is organizing a large-scale attack on the presidential palace. This will force the guards to redeploy troops to reinforce the outer defenses."

Abdul suddenly interjected, "There's an emergency escape route underground in the presidential palace, leading directly to the military base two kilometers away. If Noel senses danger..."

“Therefore, we must take control of the situation within ten minutes.” Song Heping interrupted him: “Once we enter the Presidential Palace, our primary objective is to control the communications room and the escape routes.”

Collins, who had been silently leaning against the corner, suddenly spoke up: "Even if we manage to sneak in, how will we get out? Walk out with the president? The guards will riddle us with bullets."

Song Heping picked up a photo next to the table map, a picture of the Presidential Palace. He pointed to a helipad and asked Hassan, "Is this Mi-17 always parked on this helipad on the west side of the Presidential Palace?"

Hassan nodded: "Yes, these are the last batch of photos taken before the war started the day before yesterday. This helicopter has been parked there all this time, and it will definitely still be there in the next few days. Noel is a very cowardly guy, and the helicopter is for him to escape."

Song Heping nodded and said, "Yes, that's right..."

Ferrari seemed to have guessed something: "You're not planning to use it to kidnap Noel, are you?"

Song Heping nodded: "That's right, is there a problem? Is there a better escape tool than this thing?"

Ferrari asked in surprise, "You can fly the Mi-17?"

Song Heping said, "I studied with the Russian pilots in our training school in South America."

Ferrari paused for a moment, then gave a thumbs up without saying anything.

"Damn, old squad leader, you're a fucking lunatic." Jiang Feng shook his head, but a smile played on his lips. "But I like this plan."

Collins suddenly stood up: "We need more weapons. We don't have enough pistols."

Hassan immediately replied, "I can get AKs and grenades, and maybe even two RPGs."

“That’s not enough.” After a moment of contemplation, Song Heping said, “We need something to create panic. Do we have white phosphorus bombs?”

Hassan's expression changed: "That thing is covered by international conventions."

"To hell with international conventions," Song Heping sneered. "We'll make the guards think the whole city is on fire."

The atmosphere in the room gradually shifted from shock to a strange excitement.

Abdul and Hassan began to pray quietly, while Ferrari started checking the magazines.

“What about the timetable?” Collins asked.

Song Heping glanced at his watch: "It's 2 a.m. We're moving in at 6 a.m., just as dawn breaks, when the guards are most exhausted, and it'll definitely be garbage time then. Hassan, your men must create chaos three blocks away precisely at 5:45 a.m.."

Hassan nodded: "I will lead the team myself."

Song Heping rejected the idea, saying, "Find two reliable commanders to carry out the riot-inducing operation; it's essential to attract the attention of the government and the Guard."

After saying that, he turned to the others: "Jiang Feng and Ferrari will take control of the communications room. Collins and Abdul, come with me to capture Noel. Remember, we need him alive."

“What if the plan fails?” Abdul couldn’t help but ask. Song Heping’s eyes turned cold: “Then we’ll detonate the entire presidential palace and send Noel to hell with us.”

4 a.m., safe house.

Song Heping was inspecting the weapons that Hassan had just delivered—four AK-74U short assault rifles, ten F1 grenades, two RPG-7 rocket launchers, and several uniforms of the Sena government forces.

“The uniforms were obtained from within the organization,” Hassan explained. “They’re all genuine; wearing them will make things a bit easier for us in town.”

Song Heping picked up a captain's uniform and held it up to his eyes: "This is enough. Collins, you wear this."

Jiang Feng was loading bullets into the magazine when he suddenly looked up: "Is that cook reliable? What if she tells on us?"

“Her sister is in our hands,” Hassan said expressionlessly. “And I’ve promised her $50,000 after it’s done.”

Ferrari scoffed: "Loyalty always comes at a price."

Song Heping did not participate in the discussion; he was using waterproof tape to tie two magazines back to back together so that they could be quickly replaced during combat.

"Communicator test."

After he finished setting it up, he pressed the button on his headset.

"test."

"test."

"test."

The others responded in turn.

“Remember the communication rules,” Song Heping emphasized. “Unless it is an emergency, silence must be maintained when entering the Presidential Palace.”

Abdul nodded repeatedly, his hands trembling slightly.

Song Heping walked over and pressed down on his shoulder.

“It’s normal to be afraid,” he whispered. “But remember, fear is your weapon. It keeps you alert.”

Abdul took a deep breath and nodded.

At 5:00 sharp, everyone was ready.

Song Heping did a final check of his equipment: an AK-74U hanging on his chest, a Glock 17 pistol strapped to his thigh, four magazines secured, two grenades, a multi-purpose dagger, and a small bag of C4 explosives—the last line of defense.

"Before we set off," Song Heping surveyed the group, "remember our objective: capture Noel alive and seize control of the Presidential Palace. Don't linger, move quickly!"

"understand!"

Everyone nodded in unison, their faces showing a touch of solemnity.

They left the safe house in batches, boarded the prepared pickup trucks, and disappeared into the darkness before dawn.

The streets of Butare were deserted, with only occasional sporadic gunshots heard in the distance.

The city, on its second day after the coup, had already become accustomed to violence.

Half an hour later, Song Heping and Collins, dressed in government military uniforms, swaggered toward the designated meeting point—a meat shop two blocks from the presidential palace.

Hassan's female messenger and her cousin Amina were already waiting there.

Amina was a plump woman in her forties with red and swollen eyes, clearly having been crying.

Upon seeing the fully armed mercenaries, she took a step back in fear.

Hassan reassured her in the local language, then turned to Song Heping: "She said a batch of fresh mutton is being delivered this morning, and we can hide in the delivery truck."

Song Heping inspected the dilapidated Toyota pickup truck. The cargo box had been modified, with a hidden compartment made of sheet metal at the front, just big enough for five people to squeeze in.

"It's too crowded," Jiang Feng complained after trying out a seat. "And it's fucking hot."

"Shut up!" Ferrari sneered. "You're lucky you even managed to sneak in! It would be terribly unlucky to get caught before you even get in and get shot dead in here."

At 5:40, it was time to depart.

They all crawled into the mezzanine, which reeked of the stench of mutton.

Amina trembled as she covered the camouflage panel and started the car.

"remember."

Before getting into the car, Song Heping gave Hassan one last instruction: "At six o'clock sharp, you must create chaos on time."

"rest assured."

Hassan nodded vigorously: "I'll risk my life to mobilize the presidential guard!"

(End of this chapter)