Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 948 The Conditions of the Gallic Rooster
The cold, sharp edges of the satellite phone pressed against Song Heping's palm. He casually shook the expensive communication device, a faint, almost cruel smile appearing on his lips.

"The equipment issue has been resolved."

The sound was not loud, but it was like a pebble thrown into a deep pool, creating invisible ripples.

"The most advanced equipment, combining eavesdropping and jamming. When the time comes..."

He turned his gaze to Jiang Feng, who was standing to the side with his arms crossed, and said, "Take some men to the designated location and retrieve it."

"no problem!"

Jiang Feng grinned, his fingers unconsciously rubbing together—a habit he'd developed over years of military service; whenever he got excited, his fingers would feel an urge to pull the trigger at any moment.

"Colins and I will take care of cutting off the British mouthpiece; we'll make sure they're blind."

Song Heping didn't look at him again; his gaze, like a precise probe, turned to Henry in the corner.

His gaze was calm and unwavering, yet it made Henry instinctively straighten his back a little.

"My intelligence chief," Song Heping began, his voice carrying no urgency, yet an invisible pressure, "has the French... responded?"

Henry quickly replied, "Charles, the head of the DGSE West Africa Division! He's very interested in our 'business'!"

He licked his slightly dry lower lip, his Adam's apple bobbing as if to confirm whether the next offer was tempting enough.

"What they want in return is that, once the deal is done, the French company will take over all the mining rights currently held by the British in the southern region."

"Give them to them, no problem."

Song Heping's answer was without the slightest hesitation, as decisive as cutting water with a knife.

The red pen in his hand was already suspended above the huge map of the Republic of Seine on the table, the tip of the pen aimed at a region in the south that was densely marked with special symbols—a rich area of ​​niobium and tantalum ore.

The moment the words fell, the red pen plunged down with resolute force, the bright red ink instantly creating a dazzling dot on the line representing the mineral vein, the pen tip almost piercing through the fragile paper.

"Priority, no problem."

He raised his head, his gaze sharp as a hawk's, piercing through the map and pointing directly into Henry's eyes, "Who is the Sena government insider they handed over this time?"

Henry immediately turned around, picked up a manila envelope from the table piled with documents and communication equipment, and respectfully placed it on the map in front of Song Heping, right next to that glaring red dot.

"Isis".

He explained, “He was the Minister of Mines during the Noël government. He appeared neutral and had a decent reputation. Precisely because he was a member of Noël’s cabinet, Touré ousted him as soon as he came to power. His family has deep roots in the Seine and is a prominent clan. During the French colonial period, they were ‘old friends’ who worked for the French, and their relationship has always been watertight. Isis herself is a graduate of the University of Paris.”

"more importantly……"

Henry added, lowering his voice slightly, "The Isis family has deep roots within the Sena military, with many members holding key positions in the Army and Air Force. If we start an uprising, our initial estimate is that they can mobilize at least six brigades as inside agents."

"Ah……"

A short, cold laugh escaped from Song Heping's nostrils, carrying an icy mockery.

He flipped through the files quickly, the papers rustling as his gaze swept over the texts and photos that recorded loyalty and betrayal.

After reading it, he casually tossed the document back onto the table like trash, his face showing nothing but blatant contempt.

"It's truly been a century of support..."

He murmured, as if appraising an antique: "The French have truly first-rate patience when it comes to raising dogs."

He raised his eyes, his gaze sweeping over everyone present, his eyes piercingly insightful and chillingly cold.

"This is a small place."

His fingers tapped unconsciously on the table, making a dull thud. "The president on stage is nothing more than a puppet on a string. Behind him stand those Western 'advisors' in suits, holding remote controls. Whoever supports the puppet sends in the advisors. The advisors are the ones who truly issue orders and seize benefits. As for who the puppet is?"

A cold, emotionless smile appeared on his lips.

"It doesn't matter. As long as it's an obedient dog."

He looked at Henry again and pointed to the discarded file on the table.

“Henry, I want more than just these ‘insiders’.”

His voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable weight.

Henry understood immediately and replied, "As for the international troubles following the coup, the French have made it clear. If the situation escalates and reaches the United Nations (UN), they will use the veto power of the five permanent members and their diplomatic network to provide us with full political protection and make that 'diplomatic curtain' even thicker."

"Um……"

Song Heping nodded slowly, his tense jawline finally relaxing slightly, and a genuine hint of approval flashed in his eyes. "Not bad. That's more like it."

This is the most vulnerable and fatal flaw in his entire grand plan.

His own identity is too sensitive.

Although the last lightning coup he assisted the British in planning was successful, the storm it stirred up has not yet subsided, and international attention has long been focused on him as the "shadow mastermind".

Now, less than three months later, another wave has swept through Seine?
Once it's revealed that he was behind it, the Americans will never let this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity slip by.

The CIA's propaganda machine will operate at full capacity, portraying him as an utterly heinous warmonger, stirring up a storm at the United Nations, and pressuring for international intervention.

Sena is also a member state of the African Union (AU).

The African Union's attitude is an even more unpredictable variable.

Song Heping's current moves often involve overthrowing a country's regime.

If the African Union is encouraged to intervene, or if the United Nations actually sends peacekeeping forces, the situation will become extremely complicated. It's not a question of whether they can win—he has absolute confidence in his battle-hardened mercenaries—but rather whether they can fight and dare to fight.

Fire at troops wearing blue helmets or AU flags.
That would be tantamount to cutting himself off from the entire international community; Song Heping isn't that crazy.

Not to mention the label of "Kuomintang leader" that the Americans forced upon him, which still hangs like a sword of Damocles over his head.

Without the political protection of a major power, playing this game of changing the world is like walking a tightrope high in the air, with an abyss below.

Although using the idea of ​​the French rooster is risky, it is currently the best solution.

Although not long ago he had helped the British outmaneuver the French, severely damaging French influence in the region.

But in the murky waters of international politics, the only pass is naked self-interest.

If Song Heping were willing to offer the coveted niobium-tantalum mining rights in the southern Seine as bait, the French would absolutely not hesitate to cast aside their past grievances and plunge the Seine into the river.

Nobody would turn down a real gold mine.

"but……"

Henry's voice rang out again, but with a hint of hesitation, like smooth silk suddenly getting knotted. He subconsciously avoided Song Heping's direct gaze.

"But what?"

Song Heping immediately pressed for answers.

Henry swallowed hard and said with difficulty, "Charles... he requests that you meet with him in person to confirm this."

"personally?"

Song Heping's brows furrowed almost imperceptibly, his eyes instantly sharpening as he scrutinized Henry: "He really wants to see me that badly? A phone call, or you doing it for him, isn't that enough to make him feel comfortable placing his bet?"

"The sound of the wind outside..."

Henry explained, beads of sweat forming on his forehead: “It’s rumored that you’re dead, that you died three months ago in the fighting in the neighboring country. Charles’s attitude is very clear: if he can’t see you alive, it proves that you are indeed in control behind the scenes, and he’s not confident that this plan will succeed. The French side… is unwilling to take this risk. But if you are indeed ‘alive,’ and he confirms it with his own eyes, then everything is negotiable.”

"Fuck me!"

Song Heping was taken aback at first, then chuckled softly.

suspended animation!

This was a brilliant move he had carefully laid out.

He successfully deceived MI6 (British Military Intelligence) and CIA (American Central Intelligence Agency) with a meticulously planned "accidental death," allowing him to disappear completely from the spotlight and lurk in the shadows like a ghost, silently weaving a giant web to overthrow Seine.

This is his greatest strategic advantage and the foundation upon which the entire plan can be implemented.

Once the rumor that he was "not dead" leaked out, even the slightest ripple would be enough for the British, like frightened birds, to turn Sena into a military fortress—more advisory groups, more elite SAS (Special Air Service) squads, or even directly send additional troops to the mining area.

That would be a devastating blow to his meticulously planned lightning strike.

The Frenchman's move struck right at his weak spot.

Charles, that old fox, clearly knows this well.

You can’t catch a wolf without sacrificing a kid!
After a brief period of gloom, Song Heping's eyes regained their resolute gleam, a light that seemed ready to gamble everything.

The risks are enormous, but the rewards are equally astonishing.

Without the crucial "diplomatic curtain" of the French and the inside help of the Isis family, the probability of a successful coup and subsequent stability would be greatly reduced.

Trying to get the French to place a huge bet without any investment? There's no such thing as a free lunch.

He needs to show "sincerity," even if that sincerity comes at the cost of his own safety.

"Row!"

Song Heping's voice, firm and decisive, broke the stagnant atmosphere in the safe house, "Tell Xia Er to arrange a time with him. But the place, the time—"

He emphasized, each word like a hardened steel nail: "It's all up to us! If he accepts, then we'll meet. If he doesn't—"

He glanced around, his gaze sweeping over Jiang Feng, Henry, and a few core members holding their breath in the corner. A cold smile curled at the corner of his lips. "Then cancel the deal. We'll do it ourselves!"

Do it yourself?
These three words were like three heavy bombs, exploding loudly in the cramped safe house.

The air was instantly sucked out, replaced by a suffocating silence.

Time seemed to stand still, with only the second hand of the old-fashioned wall clock ticking away, its sound amplified infinitely in the deathly silence, each tick striking the hearts of everyone present.

"Are you all scared?"

Song Heping broke the silence. His voice was not loud, but it was like a cold dagger, easily slicing through the solidified fear.

He slowly stood up, walked to the map, and pointed heavily at the location representing the southern mining area and the capital city of Seine.

"Six thousand elite troops."

His voice was calm, yet contained the power of a volcano about to erupt: "This is the force we can quickly assemble on this land. Don't you know what kind of people the Sena government forces are?"

His sharp gaze swept over everyone. "Outdated equipment, lax training, low morale. Their forces are just numbers on paper! The French won't stand for it?"

He suddenly raised his voice, with an arrogant air of dominance, "Then we'll just find a proxy within the government army! We'll put him in power! We'll do it ourselves!"

(End of this chapter)