Courtyard House: Ten-year-old Master Zhu reorganizes the entire courtyard

In the operations room of Huayuan Camp, the air conditioning was turned up to the maximum, but it still couldn't quell the heat in the air.

The large screen on the wall was flashing blue light, displaying real-time images that Sofia had purchased at great expense from a commercial satellite company.

Vic sat in front of the computer, her fingers flying across the keyboard. Her face was pale, with faint dark circles under her eyes.

"The situation is worse than we thought." Vic projected a magnified satellite image onto the main screen. "This is an image from this morning. Thirty kilometers north of Goma, an M23 assembly point."

In the picture, countless tents cover the valley like white mushrooms. Dozens of trucks and several armored vehicles covered by camouflage netting are parked nearby.

"Based on the number of vehicles and tents, there are at least 1,500 people." Vic turned to look at Qi Tongwei. "Moreover, these aren't ordinary light infantry. Look here."

She pointed to an open space at the edge of the picture. Several towed artillery pieces were parked there.

"122mm howitzers," Qi Tongwei recognized them at a glance. "And mortar positions. They're planning to plow this entire mining area."

Patrice sat in the corner, a cigarette between his fingers, oblivious to the ash that fell onto his pants.

"Fifteen hundred men..." Patrice muttered to herself, "plus those PMC special forces. The few men we have aren't even enough to fill their teeth."

"They'll have to break a few of their teeth anyway." Qi Tongwei stared at the screen. "What about Anna's intelligence?"

"Anna intercepted an internal email from TransAtlantic," Emily said, handing over a printed document. "Codenamed 'Pathfinder.' The first phase of the operation will begin in five days. The objective is to clear out the 'non-cooperative militants' around the Manono mining area and control the transportation routes to Tanzania."

"Five days." Qi Tongwei threw the documents on the table. "We don't have much time left."

"There's another piece of news." Vic hesitated for a moment. "Irina just contacted me."

Qi Tongwei raised an eyebrow: "That Russian woman? What did she say?"

"She said her boss was very interested in this war." Vic pulled up an encrypted email. "The Russians felt that if the Americans controlled the cobalt mines here, it would be a blow to their strategic interests. So, they were willing to offer a little 'help'."

"What kind of help?"

"Four Kornet anti-tank missiles, two Igla anti-aircraft missile systems, and two hundred rockets."

Patrice's eyes lit up, and he jumped up from his chair. "Kornets?! Those things can blow up an M23 armored vehicle like a can open! And anti-aircraft missiles... We want them!"

"Don't rush," Qi Tongwei waved his hand. "There's no such thing as a free lunch. What are the conditions?"

"The conditions are," Vic looked at the last line of the email, "that we must use 20% of the mine's output over the next three years as collateral. Moreover, if we want to introduce foreign investment for development after the war, we must give priority to Russian-funded enterprises."

The operations room fell silent.

This is a contract of servitude. 20% of the profits, plus priority development rights, is equivalent to giving away half of our fortune.

"These Russians are taking advantage of our misfortune," Patrice cursed, then sat back down.

Qi Tongwei walked to the window. Outside, the group of soldiers who had just experienced battle were training on the parade ground. They were chanting slogans, and although their movements were not yet standard, their spirit and morale were different.

Without powerful weapons, no matter how brave these men are, they would be cannon fodder in front of those 122mm howitzers.

"Say yes." Qi Tongwei turned around, his voice calm.

"Qi?" Emily was somewhat surprised. "These conditions are too harsh."

"Only those who survive have the right to negotiate." Qi Tongwei walked to the table, placing his hands on the surface. "If we lose, we won't even have this land. What's the point of talking about the next three years then?"

He looked at Vic: "Tell Irina, it's a deal. But I have one condition: the goods must be delivered within three days."

"She said the goods were already in the warehouse at Sanlan Port," Vic said, "but how we get them in is our own business."

Qi Tongwei nodded. He looked at Kasonga, who had been standing silently at the door.

"Kasonga".

"Yes, Brother Qi." Kasonga stepped forward.

"Take two trucks and a few of your most trusted men." Qi Tongwei took out a pass from the drawer, the one "Mr. Long" had given him before. "Go to Tanzania and bring this shipment back. These things are our lifeline."

Kasonga took the pass without asking why or whether it was dangerous.

"Three days." Kasonga stuffed the pass into his pocket. "As long as I don't die, the goods will definitely arrive."

"Be careful on the road." Qi Tongwei patted him on the shoulder. "Don't take the main roads. I've arranged for someone to meet you at the border."

Kasonga gave an awkward military salute, then turned and strode out.

The operations room fell silent again. Only the hum of the computer fans could be heard.

"We're walking a tightrope," Emily said, looking at Qi Tongwei with a complicated expression. "The Americans are on our left, and the Russians are on our right. One wrong step and we'll fall."

"This is the path we must take." Qi Tongwei lit another cigarette, looking at the densely packed enemy camps on the screen. "Surviving in the cracks between powerful nations is inherently a gamble. But this time, I'm going to bet on myself."

He took a deep breath, the smoke swirling in the light.

"Notify all tribal chiefs to have a meeting first thing tomorrow morning." Qi Tongwei's eyes sharpened. "Tell them that anyone who doesn't want to die should bring all their belongings to the camp. We're going to turn this place into an impenetrable fortress."

"Also," Qi Tongwei looked at Patrice, "drive those excavators to the intersection. I need to dig trenches. In the next five days, even if you have to dig by hand, you have to dig a defensive line for me."