Chapter 1384
Interests, interests, and more interests!
Chapter 1384 Interests, interests, and more interests!
Song Heping asked a question that struck at the very core of his being.
interest.
That's right.
I can't help you for nothing.
I'm not related to Duke.
I don't want to get involved in the messy affairs of Americans.
Having reached this point, Song Heping was furious.
After all, they had previously tried to lure him with a $2.5 million bounty on Bakdadi.
It now seems that even if Maisul is captured alive, no clues about Bakdadi will be found from him.
They simply put themselves in as pawns to be shifted blame at any time.
Whether it's the CIA or the US military.
They all share the same idea.
Since that's the case, I need to see what benefits Duke can offer in exchange, and whether it's worth it for me to lend him a hand.
otherwise?
At worst, I'll just take the guaranteed minimum payment from the contract and forget about getting the 2.5 million.
The room fell silent.
Song Heping looked at Duke without saying a word.
He is waiting for Duke's reply.
Offer up benefits in exchange for your own.
"Let's put aside interests for now and talk about what I want you to do," Duke said in a deep voice. "Find Maisour, get the evidence he's hiding before he's silenced, and then do what you need to do. You know what I mean."
"What if I find him?" Song Heping asked, his voice flat and emotionless. "What should I do? Kill him? Protect him? Or take the evidence he has?"
“That’s your decision,” Duke said, but then corrected himself: “No, it depends on whether we can reach a consensus.”
Song Heping's eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly.
He was familiar with this opening line—when Americans say “consensus,” it usually means they need you to do the dirty work but don’t want to pay the full price.
Duke said, "Song, let's be frank. The 'Sower' program is no ordinary scandal. This isn't something a CIA station chief or director did on his own, nor is it an overreach by a Pentagon department. This involves far too many people."
He took out his phone, opened a folder, pulled up a few photos, and then handed the phone to Song Heping.
The photo is somewhat blurry, clearly taken from a distance or as a screenshot from surveillance footage.
The first image shows a person wearing a protective mask operating equipment in a laboratory; the second image shows yellow smoke rising above a village; the third image—
Song Heping stared at the third photo.
It was the body of a child, twisted on the muddy ground, with black congealed substance around its mouth and nose, and its eyes wide open, staring at the sky.
"Alkam, a border village in Syria, March 2014."
Duke rubbed his hands together, seemingly becoming a little nervous as well.
"The 'Sowers' used a modified VX nerve agent with added aerosol diffusion components. Official records indicate it was a chemical weapons attack by an extremist group, but in reality..."
"It was actually your people who did it."
Song Heping replied, placing the phone back on the table with such gentleness that it was as if he were placing a bomb about to explode.
"It was a 'controlled experiment' jointly authorized by former CIA Director Vincent, the White House National Security Advisory Group, and the Pentagon's Office of Special Projects."
Duke corrected him, but there was no hint of defense in his tone.
“This was not simply a U.S. military operation. It was after that that that Messour began to cut off contact with the ‘Witness’ department.”
"Had his conscience bothered him after seeing all this?" Song Heping said coldly, his tone full of sarcasm.
Duke gave a bitter smile: "Conscience? Maybe. Or maybe he just suddenly realized that no matter whether the experiment succeeded or not, he and his recruited companions would eventually be silenced. So he started recording everything—communication logs, experimental data, copies of authorization documents, and maybe even audio and video evidence, and then disappeared with all of that."
"General," Song Heping continued with a cold laugh, "Let me be frank. Why do you want me to expose these things? Is it really for the truth? For the sake of those civilians who died?"
He also didn't believe Duke had a change of heart.
Duke's eyes flickered, and that momentary wavering did not escape Song Heping's notice.
The air in the room seemed to freeze.
Have you heard of the Clinton List?
Duke's voice had a deliberately maintained calm.
Song Heping paused for a moment, thought for a second, and then shook his head: "Never heard of it."
Duke seemed a little nervous, licked his dry lips, and said, "Would you like to hear a story from me?"
Song Heping shrugged and glanced at his watch: "Whatever, I have time."
Duke gathered his thoughts and then began to speak:
In 1978, then-Arkansas Attorney General Bill Clinton and his wife, along with their friends James McDougall and his wife, founded Whitewater Development Corporation, with plans to develop 230 acres of land along the Whitewater River in northern Arkansas.
Beginning in 1982, the company began raising funds, during which time it had financial dealings with Madison Savings and Loan Guarantee, a subsidiary of McDougall. Madison, an insurer for the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation, went bankrupt in 1989, resulting in a $6000 million loss to the federal banking system.
Clinton won the White House in 1992;
In May 1993, the investigation team began collecting testimonies;
In July of the same year, White House Deputy Legal Counsel and former partner at Hillary Clinton's law firm, Foster, died.
In November of the same year, Ed Willie, a fundraising tycoon who had contributed significantly to Clinton's 1992 campaign, committed suicide in the Virginia woods. On the same day, his wife, Kathleen, held a press conference accusing Clinton of "frivolous behavior" towards her.
The ballistics found by local police did not match the caliber of the handgun in Willie's home, but the case remained closed due to a lack of further evidence.
In November 1994, the Los Angeles Times broke the news that Commerce Secretary Ron Brown had "materials detrimental to Clinton";
Brown died in a plane crash in April 1996.
The crash site of the Brown plane was located in a valley near Dubrovnik, Croatia. Rescue teams had taken photos of what appeared to be bullet holes in Brown's head, but none of the images survived the following day due to a damaged memory card.
Even more strangely, the air traffic manager in charge of the flight's route scheduling was found dead in the car two weeks later. The police hastily concluded it was a suicide and closed the case within 48 hours.
In December 2010, investor George Vandrove fell to his death from his New York apartment.
Police say he has debt disputes behind him, but Fox News revealed that he had facilitated donations for the Clinton Library project through a foundation and expressed dissatisfaction with how the funds were used.
Two hours before his death, Van der Rohe left a recording saying, "If something happens to me, it won't be suicide."
In June of this year, John Ash, a foreign political donation intermediary with close ties to the Clinton Foundation, was accidentally crushed to death by a barbell while exercising at home. The police conclusion was still "suicide."
Just one day later, independent journalist and Breitbart News editor Mike Flynn was found dead in his bedroom.
Flynn, a freelance writer who had long tracked the Clinton Foundation’s accounts, once wrote on his blog, “I have complete evidence of duplicate donations and will present it next week.” Then, late at night on June 30th of that year, a neighbor called the police, reporting hearing three muffled thuds.
Police record: 'No items were stolen from the scene; doors and windows were intact.'
Over the years, more than fifty key figures closely linked to the Clintons' scandals have passed away, their deaths strikingly similar: shootings, plane crashes, sudden heart attacks, gym accidents…
At this point, Duke looked at Song Heping, his eyes seeming to ask—did you understand?
“You’re afraid of being silenced,” Song Heping concluded. “An active-duty general who knows too much might also be a troublesome person who might ask the wrong questions at the wrong time.”
Duke did not deny it.
Then, changing the subject, he said, "I served in the military for a full thirty-four years, but I have received my transfer order. In three months, I will be transferred back to the Pentagon as a 'Special Projects Advisor.' A nominal position with no real power, no subordinates, and no budget. What awaits me is early retirement."
“And if you continue to investigate the matter of Badi Town, and the ‘Sower’ program,” Song Heping continued.
"This transfer order could become a summons to hell."
Duke finished what he hadn't said.
"Or worse. An 'accident,' a 'sudden heart attack,' and getting rid of me won't be any more difficult than that."
Song Heping finally understood.
This is not a moral drama, not a story of justice versus evil.
This is a dirty game of survival, and Major General Duke, a general with a chest full of medals and who has commanded thousands of soldiers, suddenly finds himself a pawn on the chessboard, at the mercy of others.
"So you want me to find Maisour, get the evidence, and then uncover the truth, so that the whole manhunt will be ruined because of my unilateral decision."
Song Heping said slowly, "That way you can get away unscathed, and I'll take the blame."
Duke nodded, his gesture small but heavy: “If I continue to report the truth up the chain of command, I’ll be labeled a ‘troublemaker.’ If I remain silent, I’ll be an accomplice. That lady running for election and her friends need a scapegoat, and a retiring major general is the perfect candidate. Either way, I’m going to die, and I don’t want to die.”
He sighed, got up, walked to the window, stood there blankly for half a minute, and then said:
“But I found a third way. If that evidence wasn’t exposed through military or government channels, but through other means, such as from the front page of The New York Times or The Washington Post, or from the internet, rather than from the internal investigation report I provided.”
“Then you are safe.” Song Heping replied.
Duke did not deny this somewhat bleak analysis: "It's the only way to keep me and my family safe. They can cover up past covert operations, they can falsify reports, they can manipulate internal investigations. But he can't control the media around the world. Once things are public, Congress will have to hold hearings, and the special prosecutor will have to get involved. By then, the risk of silencing a general is too high."
Song Heping stood up and walked to the window.
In the morning light at the base, vehicles come and go, soldiers change shifts, and the world goes on as usual.
But beneath these appearances, a covert power struggle is unfolding, and he has just been invited to join it.
“We’ve been arguing for so long, I almost forgot to talk about what I care about most.” Song Heping didn’t turn around. “Suppose I agree to do this, suppose I find Maisul, obtain the evidence, and expose it through safe channels, taking huge risks to provide you with an opportunity to escape. So, what will I get?”
This is the key issue.
Song Heping is neither an idealist nor a human rights activist.
He was a businessman, a pragmatist. He ran a business in a war-torn region that required resources and connections.
Most importantly—profit.
Duke seems to have anticipated this problem.
He took a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Song Heping.
“In recent years, our troops have been withdrawing from Iligo on a large scale.” Duke glanced at the paper and said, “According to the withdrawal timetable, within the next six months, we will close the last four major bases, retain only a very small military presence, and transfer or dispose of equipment worth hundreds of billions of dollars.”
Song Heping looked at the paper in his hand.
It was a list of military supplies.
As he looked, his eyes narrowed slightly.
清单详细列出了各类军事装备：M1151装甲悍马车、M1126史崔克装甲车、M240通用机枪、M4卡宾枪、M72轻型反坦克武器、M3E1古斯塔夫无后坐力炮.
Each piece of equipment comes with a quantity and condition assessment.
“Traditionally,” Duke continued, “there are three options for dealing with this equipment: repatriation, transfer to the Iligo government forces, or destruction locally. Repatriation costs 40-60% of the purchase price and is politically unpopular; taxpayers wouldn’t understand why we would spend billions of dollars to bring old equipment back home. Transfer to the Iligo government forces is the preferred option, but their receiving capacity is limited, and there is a risk that the equipment will end up on the black market or with hostile forces.”
Song Heping looked up at Duke and began to understand the general's intentions.
“The third option,” Duke lowered his voice even further, “is to transfer assets to regional security partners at a very low price through the Foreign Military Sales program. These deals require congressional approval, but are usually just a formality, especially when the deal is packaged as ‘counterterrorism aid.’”
"You want me to become that 'regional security partner'."
Song Heping smiled.
Duke nodded: "My authority allows me to approve equipment transfers within a certain limit. Larger transactions require higher-level approval, but I can bypass some restrictions by splitting orders and processing them in batches."
He paused for a moment, observing Song Heping's reaction.
"I'm talking about equipment worth at least $15 billion, Song. The actual transaction price may be only a tenth of that figure or even less."
Song Heping's heart skipped a beat, but he remained calm.
$1.5 billion.
That's enough to arm a small army.
And they're all American style!
Seeing Song Heping's eyes light up, Duke knew that the incentive he had offered was attractive enough.
He looked directly at Song Heping: "This is about one-third of all the equipment left behind by the US military in Iligo. If it works properly, I could even increase that proportion to half."
The lure of profit is constantly increasing.
Song Heping slowly exhaled.
He quickly calculated in his mind: transportation costs, storage fees, potential buyers, and officials he needed to bribe.
Although it's tedious, the profits are astonishing.
More importantly, this batch of equipment will significantly enhance their strength.
In the Middle East, weapons equal power, and the power to possess heavy American-made equipment is something many countries and organizations dream of.
"Duke, aren't you afraid I'll sell you off?" Song Heping asked with a smile. "I'm the owner of PMC, an arms dealer. Aren't you afraid I'll sell you to that old lady and get a better price?"
Duke smiled and shrugged: "If you think it's safe to deal with their family, you can try and see if you're tough enough."
This was the first real smile he had tonight.
He knew that Song Heping's question meant he had agreed to help him.
“OK, deal! But I need more details,” Song Heping said. “The handover location, the timetable, the payment method, and so on. And most importantly, how can you make sure this isn’t a scam? Once I have the evidence, you can completely deny everything and leave me empty-handed.”
Asking for a monthly ticket!
(End of this chapter)