Chapter 1367
Team Leader Lei's Request
Chapter 1367 Team Leader Lei's Request
"It's just so-so..."
Song Heping chuckled, knowing he couldn't hide it from Lei Ming, but he still had to play dumb.
One should be humble in front of one's former instructor.
"You call this just so-so? Major General Samir of the National Defense Force, Vice Chairman Abuyu of the Military Council, and Afanti from Persia—these people are either your subordinates or your close buddies. Not bad."
Lei Ming's tone was as if he were reading out an intelligence briefing.
"Samir has risen from brigade commander to major general, controlling the Mosul region; Abuyu has returned to the Khord Military Council, wielding real power; the Persian 'Quds Force' treats you as a partner. Now, your words carry more weight in northwestern Iligo than those of the Bakhta government. The Americans have to make an appointment to see you. And you call this 'average'? I say, Song Heping, I thought you were quite honest when you were in the training team. What? After more than ten years abroad, you've learned to be slippery in front of me?"
"You can't survive without being cunning," Song Heping said with a wry smile. "You have no idea what I've been through all these years, Captain Lei... I'm just a businessman, trying to make a living in the cracks."
"merchant?"
Lei Ming put down his teacup, the porcelain clinking together with a crisp sound.
"Which businessman can mobilize an armored brigade? Which businessman can play both sides between the US and Iran? Which businessman can give both the CIA and Mossad a headache at the same time? Song Heping, don't try to fool me. We know everything about you in Iligo, even your Swiss bank account balance, although that's just the tip of the iceberg of your assets."
Song Heping felt a chill on his back.
It wasn't fear, but a feeling of unease from being completely seen through.
He walked in the dark for more than a decade, thinking he was well hidden, but in front of his motherland, he was almost transparent.
"Don't worry, I'm not here to hold you accountable."
Lei Ming saw through his thoughts. "On the contrary, I'm here to ask for your help."
"Invite me?" Song Heping frowned.
The wording is subtle—it's not a command, not a request, but a "please".
“Yes.” Lei Ming’s expression turned serious, his eyes fixed on Song Heping like an eagle’s. “I want you to return to Iligo and immediately take action to completely annihilate the 1515 armed group within Iligo and wipe out the northwest.”
Song Heping was stunned.
This request was too sudden and too specific.
"Why?" he asked. "I have a use for them now. The remnants of 1515 are roaming the border, which I can use to ask the Americans for aid and equipment, and also to maintain the legitimacy of my private army. If I wipe them all out, the Americans might abandon me after I've served my purpose."
I know what you're planning.
Lei Ming said, "Keeping the 1515 allows you to negotiate with the Americans, ask for aid and support under the pretext of counterterrorism, and maintain the legitimacy of your private armed forces. This is typical mercenary thinking, maximizing short-term gains. But now the situation has changed."
"How has it changed?"
"First, the situation in Ilig is stabilizing."
Lei Ming took out a tablet computer, unlocked it, brought up several maps and files, and pushed it to Song Heping.
“We have many projects there—oil field development, infrastructure construction, power engineering, with a total investment of over two hundred billion US dollars. These projects are mainly in the Northwest, and the presence of 1515 seriously threatens the safety of these projects.”
Song Heping looked at the information on the tablet.
It is indeed an internal document in Chinese, and its confidentiality level is not low.
"This is the Fao Port expansion project, with an investment of US$1.2 billion. Once completed, it will become an important port in the Persian Gulf, where ships can dock for resupply."
Lei Ming pointed to the first picture.
"This is Phase III of the Halfaya oil field, led by CNPC, with an investment of three billion US dollars and an estimated daily production of 200,000 barrels of crude oil. This is the Basra power plant, constructed by SH Electric, with an investment of eight hundred million US dollars, which will solve the power shortage in southern Bakhta upon completion. There are also more roads, railways, and bridges."
He swiped the screen, and the map appeared densely covered with red markers:
"These are all within your sphere of influence or sphere of influence—Mosul, Kirkuk, Erbil, and Dehok 1515 launch attacks from time to time, which, although insignificant, cause casualties and property damage. Last month, they attacked a convoy of engineers near Kirkuk, killing two and injuring five. This must not happen again."
Song Heping frowned.
He knew that some companies were doing projects in Iligo, but he didn't expect so many.
“I did know some of these projects, but I didn’t expect so many.”
"Therefore, 1515 must be eliminated."
Lei Ming stared at him, his gaze piercing.
“You have the capability. Samir’s forces now number over ten thousand, well-equipped, and much of the equipment was provided by you. Abuyu’s mechanized brigade also has several thousand men, controlling the Kirkuk oil fields. Add to that the two elite mercenary battalions you’ve deployed there, and the total force exceeds twenty thousand. Meanwhile, 1515 has less than twenty-three thousand men left in Iligor. What you need to do is not a direct confrontation, but a mopping-up operation, a decapitation strike, and a complete severing of their supply lines along the Iraqi-Syrian border.”
"The Americans' side"
Song Heping was still hesitating.
"You still need to worry about the Americans?" Lei Ming interrupted him. "Your position in Iligo is very secure now. Samir is a major general in the National Defense Forces, and Abuyu is the vice chairman of the Military Council of the Khord Autonomous Region—both legitimate positions. The Persians support you, the Russians are cooperating with you, and then there are your friends in the Bakhta regime, like Yusuf… Heh, do you think we don't know?"
“Even if the Americans are dissatisfied, they wouldn’t dare to touch you. They still have three thousand troops stationed in Iriego, and they need the cooperation of local forces, the support of the Kurds, and the Persians to keep quiet and cooperate with them in the fight against terrorism. And you can influence all of these.”
Song Heping pondered.
Lei Ming's analysis was very thorough, even clearer than his own.
Indeed, his main concern was that the Americans would abandon 1515 after it was destroyed.
But now it seems that his own power in Iligor is strong enough, and with his network of relationships with Persia and Russia, the Americans can no longer really do anything to him.
"Once 1515 is cleared out, the northwest will be completely stable, and our project will be able to proceed smoothly."
Lei Ming continued, his tone softening slightly.
"This is beneficial to you, and it won't do you any harm, and..."
He paused, his voice lowering slightly:
"And this is also a good thing for the people of Iligo. You know better than I what kind of people 1515 were. They massacred civilians, trafficked women and children, and destroyed cultural relics. You kept them around for profit. But if you can get rid of them and make that land truly peaceful, that is a good deed."
Song Heping recalled the horrific scene he had witnessed in Iligo.
After the Battle of Mosul, he entered the area that had been occupied in 1515 and saw mass graves, burned-down churches, and families who had lost everything.
The reason he spared 1515's life was purely out of self-interest—only with terrorist attacks is there a need for counter-terrorism; only with a need for counter-terrorism is there his business.
But if they can be eliminated
“Team Leader Lei,” he looked up and asked, “is this an order or a request?”
"I suppose you could call it a request."
Lei Ming said earnestly:
"You may make money and gain power overseas, but don't forget to do good deeds."
"No problem!" Song Heping chuckled. "Captain Lei, you've put it this way, if I say no even a single word, my dad's turning in his grave and he'd be slapping me across the face!"
"Hmm, I knew you still had some conscience." Lei Ming picked up his teacup again, smiled, and took a sip.
"I'm more than just 'having a conscience,' I'm a true little pink!"
After laughing, Song Heping quickly added, "But I also have something I'd like to ask you for help with."
"Go ahead," Lei Ming said cheerfully, raising his hand. "As long as it's not illegal."
"I hope you can strengthen the protection of my family in the future. I have quite a few enemies overseas."
"Don't worry," Lei Ming said. "I'll arrange for people to protect your younger brother and sister's companies and residences discreetly. I'll also put in a good word with your brother-in-law; I'll try to make his work arrangements as convenient as possible for him to take care of the family, and I'll have a reason to mobilize resources. But you should also remind them to live normal lives and not to make a fuss."
"Thank you, Captain Lei."
Song Heping was absolutely beaming with joy.
My biggest worry these past few years has been my family.
With Team Thunder's guarantee...
Ha ha!
What's there to be afraid of!
"No need to thank me." Lei Ming waved his hand. "I will remember your help."
Next, the two discussed some more details.
Lei Ming's understanding of the situation in Iligo surprised Song Heping.
He not only knew the surface intelligence, but also the subtle relationships between the various factions, the conflict between the American ambassador to Iligo and the general, and the power struggles within Persia.
When the conversation ended and we left the teahouse, it was already three in the morning.
With fewer ships on the river, the river surface is more tranquil.
Most of the lights on the opposite bank were turned off, and the city entered a deep sleep.
Lei Ming drove Song Heping back to his younger brother's house.
As we approached the residential area, he said, "I'll leave you here. Take care."
"Thank you, Captain Lei," Song Heping said. "Take care too..."
"Goodbye."
Lei Ming glanced at him, his eyes filled with eager anticipation.
"You are still young, not even forty years old yet, and you have a long road ahead of you. Remember, no matter how far you go, never forget where your roots are, never forget your origins."
"Damn it!" Song Heping waved his hands repeatedly: "I can't do that, I know who I am!"
After getting off the car at the entrance of the residential area, Song Heping stood under the streetlights for a long time, watching Lei Ming's car disappear into the night.
The neighborhood was unusually quiet in the early morning, with only the streetlights casting dim yellow glows on the road.
He looked up and saw that the light was still on in his apartment window on the 28th floor.
I guess my younger siblings left the light on for themselves. The light for coming home.
As long as your loved ones are here, you'll have a home.
He slept very little that night.
Lei Ming's words echoed repeatedly in his mind as he pondered his next move.
Eliminating the 1515 militants is not difficult; the challenge lies in maintaining balance afterward.
How will Americans react?
Will the Persians take this opportunity to expand their influence?
Will the Kolds demand more autonomy?
Will the Bakhta regime want to regain control of the northwest?
These are the real challenges that follow.
The next morning, Song Heping told his younger siblings that he was leaving early.
"So fast?"
Lingling was making breakfast, the spatula hovering in mid-air, the eggs sizzling in the pan.
"Didn't you say there were still a few days left? Harmony was even planning to take a day off to go hiking with you."
“There’s an urgent matter to deal with over there,” Song Heping said, sitting down at the table. “A project has run into problems, and I have to go back.”
Harmony emerged from the bedroom, her hair still disheveled, her eyes bleary with sleep.
"Brother, can't we stay a few more days? Lingling wants you to come with her to her prenatal checkup next Wednesday. The doctor said she can have an ultrasound and see what the baby looks like."
“I can’t do anything about it,” Song Heping sighed. “The project is too tight, and the deadline has to be met.”
Lingling's eyes reddened. She lowered her head and continued frying the eggs, flipping them with the spatula with a bit of force: "So when are you leaving?"
"My flight was this afternoon. I've already rebooked it."
"Why the rush?" Hehe muttered as he sat down opposite her.
Breakfast was eaten in a somewhat quiet manner.
Fried eggs, pancakes, and soy milk—a simple breakfast.
Lingling ate very little and kept looking at her brother, as if she wanted to etch him into her mind.
Zhang Wei also got up. Upon learning that his brother-in-law was leaving, he felt somewhat helpless: "Brother, won't you stay a few more days? My parents were thinking of inviting you to dinner."
"Next time, there will be plenty of opportunities." Song Heping looked at his brother-in-law and said, "Zhang Wei, take good care of Lingling. Make sure she goes for her prenatal checkups on time and gets enough nutrition. You're family too, so if anything happens, call me anytime. Remember, anything."
"Definitely!" Zhang Wei nodded repeatedly.
After the meal, Song Heping began packing his luggage.
There's not much to pack, just a backpack.
His younger siblings insisted on taking him to the airport.
At noon, the four of them had lunch together at a nice restaurant, with Song Heping treating them.
During the meal, he tried to talk about lighthearted topics.
He shared some interesting stories about Iligo and some international observations, and even told a few harmless jokes.
The younger siblings laughed along, but the air was thick with the sadness of parting.
On the way to the airport, Lingling, the younger sister, finally couldn't hold back her tears.
At first, she wept silently, then sobbed softly, and finally leaned on Hexie's shoulder, her shoulders trembling.
"Why are you crying!" Song Heping patted her back, his movements a little clumsy—he hadn't comforted anyone like this in a long time: "It's not like I'm not coming back."
“You said the same thing last time,” Lingling sobbed, “that you’d come back in two years, but you only came back once every ten years, and then left after just one week.”
Song Heping was speechless.
This is what he owes his family, and he can never repay it.
Harmony comforted his sister, "Alright, Lingling, I'm busy with my career. I'll be back at the end of the year, and it'll be so lively when the baby is born."
As the car entered the airport expressway, the scenery outside the window rushed past.
Song Heping looked at this familiar city, a place where he was born but now felt strange.
Over the past decade, it has changed so much, but his feelings for it remain deep in the softest part of his heart and have never changed.
Upon arriving at the airport, Hexie went to park the car, while Song Heping, Lingling, and Zhang Wei went to check in.
The international departure hall was bustling with people speaking various languages, and travelers with suitcases were hurrying along.
After getting their boarding passes and checking their luggage, Song Heping called his younger siblings aside at the security checkpoint.
"I have something to tell you." He took out two black bank cards.
Harmony took the card, puzzled, "Brother, what's this?"
“I’ve deposited some money for each of you. The password is Mom’s birthday,” Song Heping said. “Don’t refuse, just accept it. Spend this money as needed.”
Lingling looked at the card but didn't take it: "Brother, we have money. Keep yours; you'll need it more out there."
"Take it." Song Heping stuffed the card into her hand, his action leaving no room for refusal: "My business outside is doing quite well, this is nothing."
He looked at the card in his hand, hesitated, and asked, "Brother, how much is in here?"
“It’s not a lot. Anyway, you don’t gamble, and you won’t use it all for normal spending,” Song Heping said calmly. “It’s in a US dollar account.”
Lingling gasped, her hand trembled, and she almost dropped the card.
Zhang Wei caught it with lightning speed and was stunned.
Harmony's voice trembled: "How much is that? Ten million? Or twenty million? Brother, this..."
"Legitimate income".
Song Heping remained calm: "I've made some money doing engineering and trade overseas. There's no problem with the money, you can use it without worry."
He thought to himself that if they knew his true net worth—billions of dollars in various offshore banks, real estate in Dubai, oil field shares in Iligo, and hundreds of offshore companies used for money laundering—they would probably faint from fright.
Better take your time.
Giving them too much at once will actually harm them.
Lingling rushed over and hugged him, crying even harder: "Brother, you must be careful out there, you must take good care of yourself. Eat on time, drink less alcohol, and you must come back at the end of the year!"
Song Heping patted her on the back.
"I will. You too. Contact me anytime if you need anything. Oh, and..."
He looked at Song Hexie, his expression turning serious. "If anyone tries to find out about me again, just tell them that I'm doing legitimate business overseas and know nothing else. If they keep bothering me, call the police or call me directly—24 hours a day, anytime."
"I understand." Song Hexie nodded and carefully put the card away.
The time to leave has finally come.
Song Heping gave his younger brother and sister a final hug.
Lingling held on tightly, refusing to let go.
Hehe patted his brother on the back, his voice choked with emotion: "Brother, take care."
When shaking hands with Zhang Wei, Song Heping gripped the hand firmly and then raised his hand as if making a phone call: "Take good care of Lingling. Call me if anything happens."
"Definitely! Have a safe journey, brother!"
I turned around and walked into the security checkpoint. I handed my passport and boarding pass to the staff member, who glanced at them, stamped them, and let me through.
When going through security, he took off his coat, unbuckled his belt, and put his phone and wallet into the tray.
The metal detector door didn't ring.
The security guard was a young woman. She glanced at him and nodded.
all the best.
While waiting in the departure lounge, he looked out at the runway.
The planes took off and landed, like giant iron birds.
He recalled the scene when he left more than a decade ago, with only a few clothes, some cash, and a fake passport in his backpack.
The future is uncertain, and life or death is unknown.
Now that he has returned, he is the "King of the Northwest," controlling a powerful region.
He has brothers, a career, enemies, and friends.
With responsibilities on my shoulders and concerns in my heart.
My phone vibrated; it was an encrypted message from my bodyguard, Milo.
He went into the restroom, entered a stall, locked the door, and then turned on his phone.
"Boss, everything is ready. We're just waiting for you to come back for a meeting to develop a detailed battle plan."
Song Heping replied: "Inform everyone. There will be a meeting at the Hurmatu Command Post at 10:00 AM tomorrow."
Asking for a monthly ticket!
(End of this chapter)