Chapter 1351
Carrot and Stick
Chapter 1351 Carrot and Stick
"If all else fails, we'll just break in!"
Seeing that Song Heping had been staring at the satellite communicator screen for a long time without saying a word, his knuckles turning slightly white from the pressure, Xiao Masude couldn't hold back any longer. He suddenly turned around from the front seat, his voice filled with anxiety and desperation.
“I still have some people in the city, loyal men who are willing to shed blood for my father!”
His speech quickened, and his eyes gleamed in the dim light of the carriage.
“I can contact them right now and have them come over with weapons. We don’t need many people, a dozen or so will be enough to form a commando team. When Rashid arrives at the TV station, we’ll suddenly storm in—”
He made a chopping gesture, the movement slightly distorted with excitement.
"—As long as we take him out, everything will be solved! Without a leader, the security forces will definitely fall into chaos. Then we can announce that my father is still alive, and his supporters will stand up!"
Silence filled the carriage.
Jamie broke the silence first.
"A direct assault on the TV station would be suicidal."
He seemed to be calculating, or perhaps recalling some specific data.
"Rashid deployed security forces within a 300-meter radius of the television station's main building, including visible sentries, hidden sentries, fixed firing positions, and mobile patrols—all of them combined..."
Jamie turned to look at Masood, his eyes devoid of mockery, only displaying an almost cruel honesty.
"A conservative estimate is no less than 800 people. This does not include the television station's own security forces, as well as the rapid response teams of security forces that can arrive at any time from three blocks away."
“You only have five people.” He pointed inside the vehicle: “Even if you include your ‘loyal’ subordinates, and they miraculously manage to bypass all checkpoints and assemble on time with weapons, how many will there be? Twenty? Thirty?”
Jiang Feng shook his head: "I'm afraid they won't even be able to break through the first line of defense around the TV station."
Little Masoud opened his mouth, his face pale in the dim light of the dashboard.
In the driver's seat, Jamie glanced at the back seat through the rearview mirror. In the dim light, Song Heping's profile was as hard as a rock sculpture, expressionless.
"Do you have any better ideas?"
Jamie glanced at his watch; the fluorescent hands clearly pointed to 5:07 a.m.
“Time waits for no one. Rashid’s morning news broadcast is at 7:00 AM sharp, which means he’ll be at the TV station by 6:30 AM at the latest to prepare. All in all, we have less than two hours left. Within two hours, we need to formulate a plan, acquire equipment, infiltrate, and take control of a target protected by hundreds of elite soldiers…”
He took a breath and didn't say the last sentence—it sounded like a fantasy.
Song Heping remained silent.
His gaze fell on the satellite phone in his hand.
Finally, the fingers on the keyboard moved.
Who are you contacting?
Masood couldn't help but ask again, leaning forward to try and see what was on the screen.
"Torhan".
Song Heping didn't even look up.
"In this situation, only he can help us open the door to the TV station."
The communicator's screen flickered a few times, and a continuously rotating encrypted icon appeared.
Silence fell again in the carriage, broken only by the faint hum of the communicator and the suppressed breathing of the passengers.
Time passes by second by second.
Thirty seconds felt like an eternity during that wait.
finally--
"Who?"
A deep male voice came from the communicator's miniature speaker.
It is Torhan.
Song Heping brought the communicator slightly to his lips and responded in standard and fluent Arabic:
“General Duke’s friend. My name is Song Heping. I’m with Masoud.”
He paused, giving the other person a very brief moment to process the information, before getting to the heart of the matter.
“We have received information that Rashid will be at the television station in an hour to deliver a national address during the morning news. I need to talk to you about this now.”
A longer silence followed on the other end of the communication.
Five seconds.
Ten seconds.
In the background, the sound of a television news broadcast can be faintly heard, at a very low volume. It seems to be a local station in Kolde, with some static mixed in.
Then, there was a rustling sound, like fabric rubbing together, followed by footsteps that gradually faded into the distance. The television sound in the background also grew fainter and fainter until it disappeared completely.
Instead, there was a hollow, slightly echoing ambient sound, along with an extremely faint dripping sound of water.
"Speak. Hurry up."
Torhan's voice was extremely low, carrying a restless, trapped quality.
"I hid in the bathroom, but there are people watching outside. Long story short."
A knowing glint flashed in Song Heping's eyes.
The situation was perhaps more serious than he had anticipated; Torhan was indeed under surveillance, and he still had the desire and means to communicate secretly.
“We need to get into the TV station quietly and take control of Rashid before he starts the live broadcast.” Song Heping said succinctly, without wasting words: “But a direct assault is impossible. We need your help to get our people in. The condition is that we can’t alert your informants.”
"impossible."
Thor Khan's refusal was almost imperceptible, as quick as a conditioned reflex.
“I am under constant surveillance, with people monitoring me around the clock. I eat, sleep, attend meetings, and even…”
He seemed to be gritting his teeth: "Even when I go to the toilet, there are people guarding outside the stalls. I have no room to act privately, let alone mobilize resources to help you infiltrate the TV station, which is the most heavily guarded place Rashid has right now!"
"Then let someone else do it."
Song Heping said, "You've been operating in Erbil for so many years, and the entire 3rd Infantry Brigade, from top to bottom, is your man. Don't you even have a trusted confidant who can handle such secret matters?"
He didn't give the other party a chance to catch their breath or continue complaining; he immediately offered the terms for cooperation:
"All we need to do is get in. Once inside, find Rashid, take control of him, and leave the rest to us. Of course, in exchange, and as the key to the plan's success, once we have Rashid under control, I need you to immediately mobilize your 3rd Infantry Brigade to assist Masood in stabilizing the situation in Erbil and disarming Rashid's security forces, under the pretext of quelling the rebellion and restoring order."
There was another moment of silence on the other end of the communication.
This time, the footsteps were clearer, very light, as if they were pacing in a narrow space.
Then, a dull knocking sound came through the speaker. It wasn't very loud, but it was enough to make the people in the carriage tense up.
A muffled male voice asked something in Corinthian, with a respectful tone, but the content was clearly an inquiry.
Song Heping's knowledge of Kolde was limited to everyday greetings and simple vocabulary, but he captured a few key words: "general," "need," and "help."
Thorhan immediately moved away from the microphone and quickly responded in Kolgh, sounding somewhat irritated and impatient, essentially saying, "It's okay, don't worry about it."
The person outside the door seemed to say something again, and then the footsteps gradually faded away.
After a long, unbearable silence, Torhan's voice became clear again.
"The situation... is not as simple as you think, Mr. Song."
His tone was full of concern.
"Even if you really manage to sneak in, even if you really manage to control Rashid himself... then what? Are those hundreds of security personnel outside the TV station just for show? Once the news of Rashid's control leaks out, even just a whisper, they'll rush in like mad dogs! Can you few hold them off?"
A barely perceptible smile appeared on Song Heping's lips.
"That's why we need your assistance even more, General."
His voice carried a hint of mocking laughter.
"Aren't you in charge of the 3rd Infantry Brigade, which is responsible for the defense of the entire city of Erbil? If I remember correctly, the briefing provided by General Duke stated that it is one of the most elite mechanized heavy brigades in the Kold's armed forces."
He raised his voice slightly, each word like a hammer striking an anvil:
"T-72 main battle tanks, BMP-2 infantry fighting vehicles, 120mm self-propelled mortars, 23mm self-propelled anti-aircraft guns... a full set of Soviet-made equipment, all in good condition. And what do Rashid's security forces have? AK rifles, RPG rocket launchers, some technical weapons modified from pickup trucks, and at most a few old armored personnel carriers. They are light infantry, you are an iron torrent."
Song Heping paused for a moment, then continued, "General, this is not an evenly matched battle. This is a crushing defeat."
Torhan remained silent.
The only sound on the communication channel was his slightly heavy breathing.
Song Heping was not in a hurry.
He leaned back in his seat, his gaze fixed on the grayish-blue darkness before dawn outside the car window.
Regarding Thorhan, the background briefing and psychological profile provided by Duke were now clearly emerging in his mind, page by page.
Tolhan Abdul, a career soldier, experienced the Kold's independence movement and the later War on Terror. Key personality traits: cautious, conservative, values tradition and order, and places great importance on family and tribal honor.
Capability Assessment: An excellent tactical commander and a steady expert in defensive warfare, but lacks strategic vision and the courage to make decisive choices in complex political situations.
The briefing concluded with a line of small print in red: "Major character flaw: Indecisiveness, especially when faced with major political choices, tends to observe and procrastinate, waiting for the situation to become clearer or for a stronger party to emerge."
At this moment, the old general's old habit had clearly relapsed.
He knew perfectly well what Barzani and Rashid were doing, and even leaked crucial information to Duke out of his own resistance and fear, thus leaving himself a way out.
But he is still observing, hesitating, and weighing his options.
Rashly siding with Masood, this "fugitive," is too risky, but continuing to rely on Barzani, who is clearly walking a dangerous tightrope, also means a bleak future.
He felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, with abysses on both sides, unsure which way to jump, or perhaps just hoping to stay put.
But Song Heping was there to help him "make up his mind," using the whip of fear and the honey of ambition.
“Listen, General.”
Song Heping spoke again: "We know you're hesitant. We know you don't agree with Barzani's actions. Assassinating President Massoud, seizing power, even..."
He deliberately slowed down his speech.
"...Masood Jr. also has evidence of their secret deals with the Turkish people, involving the sale of border territory and sovereignty. Do you think Barzani can still smoothly assume the position of the autonomous region's supreme leader once these things are exposed?"
He sneered.
"Do you think that once he truly comes to power and consolidates his authority, he will be grateful to you for your past 'obedience' and ensure your lifelong prosperity? Or will he look back and carefully consider how President Massoud's itinerary near Kirkuk was so secretive, and how that supposedly foolproof 'accident' special forces team, which was lying in ambush, was discovered in advance and wiped out silently without even harming a hair on Massoud's head?"
These words were like a poisoned dagger, precisely piercing Torhan's most sensitive nerve endings.
"Uh……"
A suppressed gasp came from the communicator.
Torhan's breathing suddenly became erratic.
Song Heping continued to apply pressure, saying:
"General Duke has a complete copy of the encrypted communications between you and him."
He paused deliberately, allowing the fear to fester.
"Do you think that if Barzani comes to power, General Duke, in order to show his stance and 'help' the new government clarify the network of traitors, might 'accidentally' leak some of these records? At that point, General, who will you expect to protect you?"
"You...you're threatening me?!"
Thor Khan's voice was filled with barely suppressed anger and panic, but he immediately realized his predicament and quickly suppressed his tone.
“A threat?” Song Heping’s voice suddenly softened. “No, General. I’m giving you a choice. A clear and unambiguous choice that will drastically alter the fate of you and your family.”
His words began to take on a seductive hue:
"Assist us. Today, in just one or two hours, help Massoud uncover the truth in front of television sets in thousands of homes in Koldistan, and help President Massoud regain his legitimate power. You will become the first hero to restore order and save the country from conspiracy and rebellion. Your 3rd Infantry Brigade will not only be a garrison force, but also a mainstay in suppressing the rebellion."
Song Heping's voice was full of certainty, as if stating a fact that had already occurred:
“Once the dust settles, Barzani and his core cronies will inevitably fall. The position he vacates, the position that controls the highest power in Koldestan, will need to be filled by someone who is both prestigious and capable, as well as loyal and reliable.”
He softly uttered his last few words:
"What do you think, General Torhan?"
There was a deathly silence on the other end of the communication line.
Only Torhan's increasingly heavy and unmasked breathing echoed through the silent carriage via radio waves.
one second.
two seconds.
three seconds...
Time seemed to stretch out.
finally--
"How...how do you want me to help?"
Tolhan's voice trembled with a sense of desperation; his previous hesitation had been replaced by a resolute determination to burn his bridges.
Song Heping said, "Intelligence shows that before the morning news broadcast at 7:00 a.m. every day, a fixed food delivery truck will enter through a special passage in the back alley to replenish supplies for the canteen and the VIP lounge."
He spoke faster.
"We need to infiltrate that convoy and replace the original deliverymen."
After a moment's thought, Tor Khan said:
"The logistics director in charge of supplies is someone I promoted years ago, he's absolutely reliable. But... Rashid's people aren't stupid either. The TV station is sensitive right now, and that director is being secretly monitored. It's too risky for him to directly put strangers on the list; it would easily arouse suspicion."
"Then let him be 'sick'."
Song Heping immediately interjected: "A sudden illness, acute gastroenteritis, food poisoning—any excuse. He had to temporarily appoint a deputy or a trusted subordinate to be in charge of this morning's deliveries and supervision. And this appointed person..."
"They must be my trusted confidants, and have a legitimate identity so that they won't be investigated."
Torhan picked up the conversation, his train of thought seemingly being drawn in.
“My adjutant, Adil. He doesn’t hold a high rank, but he’s been with me for fifteen years, and his loyalty is beyond question. He doesn’t easily attract attention…”
“Very good,” Song Heping affirmed. “Have him prepare five fake repairman identities and clothes for the five of us so that we can enter the studio area. Also, have him meet us at the back door on time, verify our identities, and personally lead us through the entrance checkpoint.”
“It’s too risky.” Tolhan instinctively wanted to disagree again, but this time his tone was much weaker. “Rashid’s security forces are extremely vigilant now. They check ID photos and conduct brief questioning of everyone entering the television station, especially unfamiliar faces. They might even use portable devices for facial recognition comparison. Your faces, especially Masood’s face…”
Song Heping said, "That's why we need Admiral Adil to 'meet' us at the checkpoint."
Next came another ten seconds of suffocating silence.
Even Thor Khan's breathing seemed to have stopped over the communicator.
Then, a clear, loud flushing sound broke the silence.
The sound was like a signal, or perhaps a cover-up after a decision.
Torhan's voice came again, speaking very quickly:
“Adil would wear standard desert camouflage combat uniform, but above his left breast pocket would be a custom-made silver eagle badge, his family's emblem. On his left wrist would be a silver-strapped Longines military watch, an older model, easily recognizable.”
He took a breath and continued:
"This morning, at 6:40 AM, in the food delivery lane behind the TV station, at loading dock number three. You only have five minutes. Adil, you only have five minutes. If you're late, leave immediately. Understand?"
“That’s enough,” Song Heping said succinctly.
“Also,” Thorhan added, lowering his voice, “I need you to find a way to get to the control room next to Studio Two after you enter the building. I’ll be there promptly at 6:55, under the pretext of checking the technical preparations for the morning news broadcast, and get the people in the control room to open the door for me. By that time, Rashid should have already arrived and be making his final preparations in the dressing room on the third floor. After the control room door opens, I’ll create a little chaos to distract the people inside.”
"And then?" Song Heping asked.
“Then…” Tolhan’s voice held a hint of ruthlessness: “It’s up to you now. Once you have the situation under control, notify me immediately. I will activate the contingency plan right away. The Third Infantry Brigade will deal with Rashid’s ‘mad dogs’ waiting outside the TV station.”
"make a deal."
Song Heping abruptly ended the call, then looked up, his gaze sweeping over every face in the car.
“The plan has changed,” he said. “We’re not going to launch a full-scale assault. We’re going to go in with a different face.”
Jamie turned the key and restarted the engine, the SUV emitting a deep roar.
He turned his head, his expression somewhat conflicted:
"Do you really think Torhan will do as he says? What if it's a trap? What if he turns around and sells you out to Rashid, using your heads to exchange for an even bigger pledge of allegiance?"
"He will not."
Song Heping put the satellite communicator back into his pocket and said with certainty, "Fear and ambition are the two most powerful forces that drive people to make choices. He's afraid of Barzani's retaliation. This fear has bound his escape route."
He paused, a cold glint flashing in his eyes:
"And if he succeeds, he will become a hero who saves the country. Unless he is a complete idiot, he will know what to choose."
Little Masood took a deep breath and looked at Song Heping: "So what do we need to do now? How exactly do we do it?"
“Become deliverymen.” Song Heping’s gaze swept over everyone. “Jiang Feng, Ivan, and Miroslav, the four of us will play the porters. Our clothes need to be old and dirty enough, and we need to smell of cooking oil and vegetable dirt. Little Masood, you’ll play the delivery supervisor. Wear black-rimmed glasses, mess up your hair, and preferably stick on some fake stubble. Keep your head down as much as possible and talk as little as possible. Your face is key; it can’t give people any ideas.”
He finally looked at Jamie: “Jamie, it’s 5:15 now. We need to be near the TV station back alley by 6:00 at the latest to prepare. I need you to get five sets of old work clothes that match our identities, four fake mover IDs, and one fake supervisor ID within an hour. The photos on the IDs must be of us, but the information must be plausible. We also need a suitable, inconspicuous delivery truck, and a pass that can get through the TV station back alley checkpoint.”
Jamie's brow furrowed deeply: "One hour? Five sets of clothes and documents, a car, and a pass? Song, do you think the CIA is Santa Claus, able to get whatever you want, or do you think I run an all-powerful department store in Erbil?"
"Then let me see just how capable the CIA intelligence liaison officer at the Erbil office really is."
Song Heping thought to himself, "If you don't do a good job, I'll have Simon transfer you back to be an office clerk."
But he still praised Jamie, saying, "General Duke thinks highly of you. He said that as long as you're in Erbil, there's nothing Jamie can't get; if you want it, you can do it."
Jamie stared at Song Heping's closed-eye profile in the rearview mirror for a long time before letting out a hard breath, then jerked the steering wheel, the SUV screeching as it turned into a darker alley.
"Damn it... hold on tight."
Second update. 10,000-word update complete! It's the end of the month, and there will probably be double bonus chapters. Please give me lots of monthly votes during the double bonus period. I only missed three days this month with 10,000-word updates; the rest of the time I updated 10,000-word chapters!
(End of this chapter)