Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 935 The Temptation Before Vincent
"Chief! Urgent intelligence!"

Simon's voice boomed in the quiet office, filled with the rapid breathing of someone who had been running all the way and an undeniable urgency.

Inside the office, Vincent stood in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling bulletproof window, his back to the door, seemingly gazing at the buildings in the distance.

Hearing Simon's call, he slowly turned around.

"Simon, what's the urgent matter?"

Vincent's voice was not loud, with his usual calm. He raised his eyebrows slightly, and his gaze lingered on Simon's anxious face for less than a second before he said, "You look like you were chased all the way here by a bear."

"There's no time for this, Chief!"

Simon rushed to the large, heavy mahogany desk, his chest still heaving violently.

He disregarded all etiquette and slammed the intelligence briefing in his hand onto the smooth, mirror-like mahogany table with almost all his might, producing a dull thud.

“Song Heping!” Simon said urgently, his finger slamming on the briefing: “I’ve received the latest intelligence. He’s appeared on the eastern slopes of the Gelby Mountains! The exact coordinates, the precise coordinates, are right here! It also includes a recording from the 1515 communications channel that we just intercepted and deciphered, clearly showing that they are mobilizing a large force to surround him! The 1515 militants gathered in the target area are conservatively estimated to number over three thousand! Armed pickup trucks, heavy firepower, everything!”

Vincent finally shifted his gaze from Simon's face to the briefing on the table.

He didn't immediately touch the intelligence report; instead, he leisurely returned to his seat and sat down.

The air in the office seemed to freeze.

The light from outside the window shone through the bulletproof glass, casting a cold, hard shadow on half of Vincent's face.

He leaned forward slightly, placing his hands on the edge of the table, his scrutinizing gaze like an invisible probe, focusing once again on Simon's face.

"Song Heping's location..."

Vincent's voice was low and slow, like a dull knife slowly dragging across a whetstone, "And thousands more 1515 militants... Such precise, such timely intelligence..."

He paused, a barely perceptible curve appearing at the corner of his mouth, a curve devoid of laughter, only cold scrutiny.

“Simon, isn’t this intelligence a bit too ‘coincidental’? So coincidental… it’s almost as if someone deliberately packaged it up and then…”

He stared into Simon's eyes and said, slowly and deliberately, "You personally delivered it to my desk?"

Simon felt as if his heart had been squeezed hard by an icy hand.

Vincent's suspicion, like the forked tongue of a viper, instantly licked at his nerves.

The immense pressure caused his back to be instantly soaked with cold sweat.

But he knew that at this moment, any panic or hesitation would be fatal.

He forced himself to meet those piercing eyes, his voice trembling slightly with excitement and urgency, which only made it sound more genuine:
"Chief! I understand your suspicions! But the opportunity is right in front of us! Song Heping! How long have we been hunting our number one target? He's right there! The coordinates are right here!"

He slammed his fist on the sealed bag on the table, making a loud thud: "And, there are thousands of bastards from 1515 gathered here! This is a golden opportunity! You know the Air Force's strike capabilities, one mission, two targets! Completely eliminate Song Heping, and at the same time severely damage or even annihilate the core mobile force of 1515! What a feat this is! This is the best explanation for our withdrawal from Iligo! The best explanation for the President and Congress!"

The U.S. military began organizing its withdrawal a year ago.

Subsequently, the 1515 armed group rose to prominence in the border region between Iraq and the West, and rapidly expanded its territory.

There has been speculation from the outside world, and many declassified websites have presented evidence of connections between the CIA and 1515. Some members of the opposition in Capitol Hill have also come forward to question the CIA and demand the opening of an intelligence inquiry session.

As Simon suggested, perhaps a swift and decisive strike against the 1515 militants would shut up those congressmen who questioned him.

The reason I hadn’t made a decision before was because Bakdadi, the current leader of the 1515 armed group, had some ties with the CIA’s secret operations department. Although the two sides had fallen out more than a year ago, Bakdadi seemed to be dissatisfied with being a puppet. Perhaps from the beginning, he was using the Americans to help him ascend to the throne of the 1515 supreme leader and achieve his personal ambitions.

Vincent had long intended to take action against Bakdadi. Today, it seems everything has fallen into place.

A key target for assassination: several thousand 1515 extremists...

The target value is definitely high enough.

Seeing Vincent remain silent, Simon took a breath and spoke even faster, with a do-or-die determination: "As for the risks of the intelligence source, I am well aware of them, and I am willing to take responsibility for them... Director! The battlefield is ever-changing! By the time we spend days or even weeks verifying, simulating, and ensuring absolute certainty, Song Heping will have already slipped away! Those thousands of lunatics will have already scattered into the desert, and may even pose a huge threat to the Kold'd forces we support for some time to come! Risk? The biggest risk now is hesitation! It's watching this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity slip through our fingers! That would be our biggest mistake!"

Simon's voice echoed in the office, carrying an almost desperate, manipulative quality.

He staked all his acting talent and years of accumulated credibility on Vincent, slamming the words "achievement" and "missed opportunity" down on him.

Vincent's gaze finally left Simon's face, which was flushed with excitement, and fell back on the sealed bag.

The office fell into a deathly silence, with only the faint hum of the air conditioning system.

Time seemed to stretch out, each second feeling like a heavy lead weight pressing down on Simon's heart.

He could almost hear the thumping of his blood rushing to his temples.

A few seconds later, Vincent moved.

He didn't look at Simon again, nor did he touch the sealed bag. Instead, he reached out and pressed an inconspicuous red button on the edge of the desk.

The button glowed faintly and emitted a low beep.

"Connect me to the Joint Air Operations Center (CAOC) of the Theater, highest-authority line." Vincent's voice returned to its usual calm, devoid of any emotion.

Almost the instant the buzzer sounded, a calm and professional male voice came from a hidden speaker on the desktop: "CAOC, Duty Officer Lieutenant Colonel Walker."

Vincent's gaze was sharp as a hawk's as he precisely recited the coordinates Simon had brought. His speech was steady yet carried an undeniable penetrating power: "I am Vincent, the CIA Director. I am requesting, at the highest level, that the Operations Center immediately mobilize all available resources to confirm the real-time situation in the area at coordinates XXX-XXX on the eastern slopes of the Gelby Mountains. Highest priority. I need the images, now."

"Understood, highest priority. Activate 'Keyhole' satellite resources, coordinates XXX-XXX. Image transmission initiated, expected to connect to your terminal within thirty seconds."

The response from the speaker was crisp and clear.

Vincent stopped talking and turned his gaze to the several large encrypted monitors arranged side by side on his desk.

One of the screens, which was originally displaying a complex regional situation map, flickered and then switched instantly.

About half a minute later, a high-resolution satellite image appeared clearly: the eastern foothills of the Gelby Mountains, a range of rolling hills and deep ravines. The image was quickly magnified and sharpened.

The huge, weathered rock formation on the mountaintop, almost entirely devoid of vegetation, was clearly framed.

A tiny, almost imperceptible humanoid heat source signal is displayed in bright white against the cold rock background, making it exceptionally conspicuous!

Even more alarming was the sight of countless heat signals from representatives and vehicles surging in from all directions like a boiling swarm of ants, forming several distinct, ever-moving yellow torrents in the valley below and along the main slopes leading to the summit.

One of the leading forces has already approached to within two kilometers of the mountaintop heat source!
Those larger, brighter heat spots representing the armed pickup trucks were clearly visible.

Vincent's grey-blue eyes were fixed on the white dot of light isolated on the mountaintop on the screen, as if trying to pierce through the screen and see the audacious person behind it.

His face was expressionless, but the lines of his jaw were taut to the extreme, and the air pressure in the office was so low it was suffocating.

Why is he alone?

Vincent frowned, sensing that something was wrong.

(End of this chapter)