Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 896 Infiltrating the Presidential Palace

Butare, early morning.

The sky was not yet fully bright, and the city was still shrouded in the dim light of dawn.

After a night of fierce fighting, the riots launched by the opposition militia in the city have been temporarily suppressed. The city streets are riddled with bullet holes from the fighting, and some burnt-out cars are still emitting smoke.

The Toyota van carrying fresh meat struggled forward in the hazy morning light, its rusty wheels rolling over the bumpy streets of Butare, each bump causing the van to groan under its strain.

The headlights pierced through the lingering night fog, illuminating the occasional figures of patrolling soldiers flashing by on the roadside.

Inside the driver's seat, Amina's knuckles were white as she gripped the steering wheel, and beads of sweat formed on her dark brown forehead.

Ahead, the tall walls of the Presidential Palace were already faintly visible, and the searchlights on the sentry posts scanned back and forth like the pupils of a Cyclops.

Inside the carriage, the temperature was rising rapidly.

Song Heping could feel the sweat flowing down his spine, soaking every inch of the government army uniform.

His back was pressed against the cold metal panels of the carriage, and his nostrils were filled with a nauseating stench—the smell of beef and mutton.

The space inside the mezzanine was so cramped that Collins and he were pressed together like conjoined twins, Collins's heavy breathing spraying onto the back of Collins's neck like a wet, hot snake.

"Two hundred meters to go."

Amina's hushed voice came from the driver's seat, trembling so much it was almost inaudible.

The car suddenly came to a screeching halt.

The sounds of guards shouting harshly and guns clanging as they were cocked came from outside.

“ID!”

A hoarse male voice roared, "All vehicles entering and leaving the area today will undergo strict inspection!"

The breathing of the people hiding in the mezzanine became heavy.

If they are discovered and cannot see what is happening outside, the other side could easily kill several people by firing a burst of gunfire.

bang-

The carriage door opened.

Someone rudely stepped into the carriage.

The beam of the flashlight pierced the gaps in the carriage like a sharp sword, illuminating the meat scraps and dust suspended in the air.

Song Heping's index finger rested lightly on the trigger of the Glock 17. At that moment, his heartbeat was frighteningly slow.

This is a skill he mastered while in the special forces: getting his body into the calmest state before killing.

Collins' muscles tensed.

Song Heping nudged the other man lightly with his knee, giving him a silent warning: it's not time yet.

If they open fire now, they can at most kill four guards at this checkpoint, but the entire kidnapping operation will be ruined.

Amina's voice suddenly rose eight octaves: "Sir! These are Angus steaks for the president's breakfast! They'll spoil if we delay any longer!"

Although the woman had seemed a bit nervous before, her performance at this moment was perfect. Her fawning tone, tinged with anxiety, was very persuasive in this situation.

"Look, this is the approval slip from the logistics department."

The silence lasted for a suffocating minute.

The soldier who had boarded the carriage had clearly stopped the inspection and turned back to complain loudly to his colleagues below, "Hurry up! I can't stand the smell in here!"

Perhaps because Amina had been supplying food to the presidential palace for a long time, the guards here recognized her face.

Finally, the flashlight beam moved away.

The footsteps left the carriage and finally disappeared at the rear of the train.

"Get inside now!"

The officer in charge snapped impatiently at Amina, "Go straight to the kitchen! Don't wander around the yard! It's martial law now. If you don't want to get shot, you'd better stay in the kitchen and don't move!"

"Thank you, sir! Thank you, sir!"

Amina felt as if she had been granted a pardon, and repeatedly expressed her gratitude and bowed deeply.

The engine roared to life again.

As the truck slowly drove through the checkpoint, Song Heping peeked through the gap and saw a guard talking into a walkie-talkie, while another watched them leave thoughtfully.

"Damn, my heart was pounding in my chest!" Collins breathed a sigh of relief. "We've succeeded in the first step."

Song Heping did not respond.

His gaze was fixed on his wristwatch: 05:47.

There are eleven minutes left before Hassan's feint attack.

If he couldn't effectively lure the presidential guards away, his plan to kidnap Noel would face significantly increased resistance and danger. The pickup truck's piercing alarm blared as it reversed, particularly deafening in the quiet morning.

Song Heping observed the unloading area through the gap in the interlayer: two guards stood under a palm tree ten meters away, smoking, with AKM assault rifles casually slung over their shoulders.

The younger one was chatting with someone in the kitchen, grinning foolishly, while the older one was yawning sleepily, looking like he hadn't woken up yet.

"Thirty seconds."

Song Heping's lips barely moved, but Collins received the signal.

They simultaneously adjusted their posture, tensing their muscles like cheetahs about to pounce.

Hassan's operation was about to begin, as planned.

boom--

A series of muffled explosions suddenly came from afar, followed by gunshots like popping beans and piercing police sirens.

Hassan's militia launched a feint attack precisely on time in the administrative center area, less than a block away from the presidential palace.

The flames from the explosion illuminated the eastern sky, startling a flock of egrets that were roosting in the presidential palace gardens.

The guards jumped up as if they had been electrocuted.

The young man frantically pressed the intercom button, and a hysterical shout immediately came through: "Attention all units! Explosion coming from the direction of the Parliament Building, repeat—an explosion has occurred near the Parliament Building near the Presidential Palace! I saw flames!"

"Attention all units! Militia members have engaged in a firefight with our personnel near the outer perimeter. It appears they intend to attack the Presidential Palace. Except for patrol posts and sentries, all others must immediately assemble at the main gate!"

The older guard grabbed his comrade's arm: "Quick, let's go! The officer is calling everyone together!"

They stumbled and ran toward the direction from which the gunfire was loudest, completely ignoring the suspicious truck and forgetting that they were monitoring the unloading.

"Now!"

The buckles inside the mezzanine were pulled up, and the partition was gently pushed open.

Song Heping slid out of the carriage like a snake.

Collins followed closely behind, his tactical boots making a slight, sticky sound as they stepped on the wet concrete.

Jiang Feng and Ferrari followed closely behind...

Amina slumped in the driver's seat, her lips moving as she mumbled some kind of prayer. Her trembling finger pointed to a small door next to the kitchen: "There shouldn't be anyone over there; it's the staircase for delivering vegetables."

Song Heping did not waste time comforting her.

He moved quickly along the wall, the bronze badges on his government army uniform gleaming coldly in the morning light.

This counterfeit, obtained from the black market, was enough to fool ordinary soldiers—if they had the chance to examine it closely.

Enter through the small door; it connects to the kitchen.

The kitchen was filled with the aroma of cinnamon and coffee, and several people in chef's uniforms were busy at work.

Half-cut fruit sat on the stainless steel countertop, and an egg beater, still covered in egg wash, was gently swaying.

"We have entered safely."

Walking up the stairs in the passageway to the corner on the second floor, Song Heping pressed the earpiece to notify Hassan.

His voice was barely audible amidst the deafening roar of the powerful range hood.

Hassan's response was accompanied by the sounds of intense gunfire: "We've reached the western block of the presidential palace and are engaged in combat with them!"

"Make a big fuss and get them to send more people over."

After speaking, Song Heping took out a hand-drawn structural diagram of the Presidential Palace, unfolded it, and pasted it on the wall. He then circled a certain location with an infrared pen: "The communications room is on the second floor, east side, requiring you to pass through the entire central hall. We'll split up. Collins, you and Ferrari go to the communications room and cut off all their external communications; Jiang Feng, you and I go find Noel. He's properly waiting for breakfast in his room right now."

The group checked the guns to make sure they were all loaded and ready to fire before heading up the stairs.

The service stairwell was covered with worn-out Persian carpets, and each step creaked ominously.

As soon as I reached the second floor, before even pushing open the door to the corridor, I heard chaotic footsteps and shouts outside: "The outer perimeter security forces need reinforcements! The opposition has launched a frenzied attack on St. Mark's Street and set surrounding buildings on fire! They're requesting immediate armored support!"

Song Heping stood motionless, his face covered in gilded wallpaper, until the fully armed guards swept through the corridor like a hurricane.

"Move quickly, start firing now."

He raised his hand and started the timer.

The others also raised their hands, revealing their watches.

Everyone agreed on a time.

"ten minutes."

He looked at Collins and Ferrari.

"You destroyed the communications room. After you took out the communications officer inside, come find us immediately."

(End of this chapter)