Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 937 Taking the Game Into It All
London, MI6 headquarters, Ms. M's office

The rain was still falling, pattering against the bulletproof glass windows, leaving winding streaks of water that blurred the gray skyline outside.

Ms. M held a cup of black tea that had long since cooled, feeling the icy coolness emanating from the porcelain cup through her fingertips.

She stood in front of the huge screen, her figure appearing somewhat lonely.

On the screen, blurry thermal images transmitted from high-altitude reconnaissance satellites were staging a "one-woman show" that completely overturned her understanding of intelligence over decades.

That solitary, fiery white dot representing the human body, like the eye of a storm, was tightly surrounded and squeezed by hundreds or even thousands of hostile, restless red dots, pinned to the sheer cliff face at the top of Gelby Mountain.

The tiny flashes of light representing the exchange of fire appeared and disappeared densely and almost continuously around the white dots of light, like a swarm of enraged bees stinging wildly.

Each flash of light signifies a deadly short burst of fire, and the instant each flash goes out, several nearby red dots will suddenly dim and disappear.

Ms. M knew what that meant.

Each time a red dot disappears, it signifies the end of life.

They saw thousands of people besieging a mountain, yet they couldn't break through it after a long siege.

Even a top intelligence chief as composed as Ms. M was moved by it.

"one person……"

M's voice was so low it sounded like a dream, almost swallowed up by the sound of rain outside the window.

Her well-maintained face was unusually devoid of its usual composure; her brows were furrowed, and her deep eyes were churning with turbulent emotions.

A slightly frightening thought crossed her mind—was she being too hasty in betraying Song Heping like this?

"Song Heping... what exactly is he doing?"

The chief analyst stood to the side, his face equally grim, his tone tinged with unease: "Madam, all the intercepted signals and satellite images indicate that the original members of his Wakner squad and the liaison officer of the Celia government forces have disappeared. He... he seems to have intentionally exposed himself, putting himself in this... deadly situation, as bait."

"A bait?!"

M suddenly turned around, his sharp gaze piercing the analyst like a scalpel, carrying an unbelievable edge.

"Use yourself as bait? Pin Bakdadi's thousands of main forces to the mountaintop? The price is annihilation?"

She spoke very quickly, her voice filled with suppressed anger and deeper confusion.

Soon, she shook her head again.

"Song Heping is not crazy! He is the most shrewd and calculating hunter of this era, the one who knows best how to weigh the pros and cons! This doesn't make sense! It absolutely doesn't make sense!"

This looks too much like suicide, but based on my understanding of Song Heping, this guy would never commit suicide!

She walked quickly back to her large desk, her fingers unconsciously and rapidly tapping on the smooth mahogany surface, producing a dull and anxious "tap-tap" sound that was unusually clear in the quiet office.

Anxiety, like cold vines, coiled around her heart, tightening ever more.

What is he planning?
In order to create a chance for Utkin and his men to survive?
The price is too high!
Trade yourself for a few mercenaries?
Song Heping is not as "noble" as he seems!
In order to deplete 1515's manpower?
How much can he consume by himself?
A drop in the ocean!

Or……

Did he anticipate that the Americans would intervene?!
This thought, like lightning cleaving through the fog, sent a chill down M's spine!
Kill someone with a borrowed knife?
Using one tiger to devour another?!
If so...

Song Heping is incredibly audacious! He even used himself as part of the bait!

"Contact all our informants in Syria and Iligo! Top priority!"

M's voice was resolute, even carrying a hint of tension that she herself was unaware of.

"I need to know the real-time situation in Deir ez-Zor, Asara town, and especially the US military base and CIA liaison station! Any disturbance, any unusual movement, must be reported immediately!"

She seemed to have grasped a clue in the fog, but now she had to use all her intelligence and reconnaissance capabilities to see the whole picture!

After giving the order, she turned her gaze back to the screen.

That solitary white dot continued to flicker, move, and fight back stubbornly amidst the surging red tide.

Every move was along the most treacherous and deadly routes.

Every counterattack was as precise as if it were a pre-programmed sequence, and its efficiency was terrifying.

This doesn't seem like a desperate resistance...

This is more like a meticulously planned, high-stakes maneuver where someone takes the initiative and wins against fate!
But Song Heping's chess game seemed to be shrouded in a thick fog that even she could not fully see through.

For the first time, a sense of frustration and intense unease gripped her so clearly.

"Map, map..."

She suddenly remembered something, grabbed the laptop on the table, quickly woke up the screen, pulled up the map of Celia, and then set the coordinates to the location of Mount Gelby.

Soon, the powerful intelligence database showed her the entire mountain in 3D.

Ms. M's eyes darted quickly across the screen, and she used the mouse to connect the routes Song Heping had taken.

At the last moment, her face turned pale.

"His escape route is on the southern slope!"

U.S. Air Force base outside Bacchus, Iligo.

Almost at the same moment Vincent hung up the red phone, a deafening engine screech suddenly pierced the dry, scorching air of Buckda Air Force Base!
Four F-15E Strike Eagle heavy fighter jets accelerated onto the runway, their massive fuselages trembling on the runway, the roar of their engines making the distant hangars seem to shudder. Under the wings and on the bomb bay racks, heavy GBU-12 Pavement II laser-guided bombs and CBU-105 sensor-detonated cluster bombs (SFWs) gleamed with a cold metallic sheen in the morning light.

They are the scythe of death, about to be hurled towards the distant Gelby Mountains to carry out a complete "purification".

The lead pilot of the first attack group, nicknamed "Razor," was wearing a flight helmet covered with electronic interfaces. His fingers were rapidly tapping on the control panel that was flashing with a ghostly light, like a pianist playing the prelude to an opening ceremony, confirming the target coordinates and weapon status.

"Reaper 1, target coordinates confirmed XXX-XXX. Armament: two GBU-12 missiles, two CBU-105 missiles. Fire control data link synchronization complete. Estimated arrival time in target airspace: thirty-seven minutes."

His voice came through the encrypted channel, completely calm, without a trace of hesitation in carrying out the "indiscriminate elimination" mission.

The wingman, "Anvil," followed closely behind, completing the same inspection process and responding silently.

"CAOC confirms 'Reaper' formation."

The instructions from the Air Operations Center (CAOC) were transmitted clearly into the helmet headset like cold, synthesized electronic voices.

"Target area authorized. Mission objective: Indiscriminate elimination. Repeat: Indiscriminate elimination. Weapon release permission granted. Happy hunting!"

The last four words carried a hint of programmed cruelty.

"Reaper received. Mission understood: Indiscriminate elimination. Weapon release authorization confirmed."

The sound of "Razor" remained as steady as ever, as if it were merely confirming a routine training task.

Amidst the deafening roar, the lead pilot peered through the cockpit canopy and gave a thumbs-up to the ground crew watching intently below—a cold gesture symbolizing "all is well, mission commencement."

The ground crew waved their batons, like conductors standing in front of an orchestra, signaling that it was time to take off.

The massive fighter jet raised its nose at the end of the runway, its powerful engines roaring in a final burst, breaking free from the pull of gravity, like two unsheathed silver-gray swords piercing the sky towards Deir ez-Zor.

The scorching exhaust plumes from the engine tailpipes left two brief, distorted trails of air on the runway.

Celia, on the southern slopes of the Gelby Mountains, at the summit.

Song Heping suddenly performed a tactical roll, dodging a barrage of machine gun bullets that came flying like a spray of water.

The bullet sent fragments of rock flying from where he had just been hiding, and left a small, bloody gash on his cheek.

He knelt on one knee, the butt of his AK-12 firmly against his shoulder, the three points aligned, requiring almost no aiming.

"Bang! Bang!"

Two armed men who had peered out from behind the rocks on the flank in an attempt to flank the enemy fell to the ground with a thud, screaming as they tumbled down the steep slope.

Sweat, blood, gunpowder smoke, and dust mingled together, covering his face with a layer of grime. Only his eyes remained sharp as a hawk's, burning with a cold flame. He glanced at the tactical watch on his wrist.

An hour passed.

An hour had passed from the moment Eames "unintentionally" revealed his location to 1515 to the moment they successfully pinned their thousands of main forces to the top of this mountain of death!
"It's almost time, Simon, Vincent... it's your turn to go on."

He silently recited it to himself, a cold smile curving his lips.

A man like Vincent would never tolerate falling into the hands of 1515 alive, nor would he let go of this "golden opportunity" to wipe him and the elite of 1515 together.

The roar of the F-15 should be coming soon!
Down the mountain, the offensive of 1515 was like an enraged sea, wave after wave, but the rugged terrain of Mount Gelby formed the most solid fortress for Song Heping.

The narrow ridges, near-vertical cliffs, and jagged boulders made it impossible for the militants to deploy their forces.

They could only advance upwards in groups of ten or twenty, like adding fuel to the fire, following a few relatively "easy" but also more deadly paths deliberately "guided" by Song Heping.

Every charge exposed them to Song Heping's superior firepower.

Song Heping was like a sophisticated killing machine.

He made full use of every rock for cover, aiming to kill the enemy with every shot. Rapid movement, short bursts of fire, and precise sniping.

In his hands, the AK-12 seemed to come alive; every muzzle flash it emitted took at least one life.

The mountain wind swept away the smoke of battle, but also brought with it the hysterical roars and dying cries from below.

The corpses piled up layer by layer on the steep slope, and were trampled down by the people behind them, forming gruesome paths of flesh and blood.

Ammunition was being used up rapidly. He replaced it with a full magazine again; this was the last rifle magazine he was carrying.

He took a deep breath; his lungs were burning with pain, and his physical strength was nearing its limit.

But there was no trace of panic in his eyes.

It's now!

He abruptly pressed the send button on his throat communicator, calling out Utkin and Jiang Feng's codenames with unwavering resolve: "'Tsar'! 'Hummingbird'! Listen up, it's time to move out! Infiltrate Asara Town, and quickly!"

Utkin, Jiang Feng, and others, who were lying in wait in the low hills south of Asara Town, suddenly heard Song Heping's order in their earpieces.

Utkin's eyes flashed with ferocity as he slammed his hand on the machine gunner beside him: "Brothers in Wakner! Attack! For Song! For the cook! For the commission! Kill them all!"

The Wakkana elites, who had been holding back their strength for a long time, leaped out from their hiding places like tigers released from their cages. With skillful tactical formations, they stabbed fiercely at the relatively undefended outer positions of Asara Town, like red-hot daggers!

Meanwhile, Imam, who was accompanying Operation Utkin, contacted Assam, who was anxiously waiting at the 104th Brigade's temporary command post, via encrypted channel: "General, the time has come! We can launch a counterattack! Drive back the mad dogs besieging the city! Recapture the outer positions! Now!"

The regular soldiers of the 104th Brigade, who had been eagerly awaiting their opportunity, surged out from multiple concealed attack points like a flood bursting its banks, amidst the roar of Brigade Commander Assam, "For Sirya! For our homeland!" They launched a fierce counterattack against the 1515 siege force, which had been besieging Deir ez-Zor for many days and was now weakened due to the redeployment of its main force!

Gunfire erupted instantly on the outskirts of Deir ez-Zor!

(End of this chapter)