Chapter 1387
Simon's Warning
Chapter 1387 Simon's Warning
“So,” National Security Advisor Walter began slowly, “‘Podcast’ must not fall into the hands of ‘contractors’ or anyone else. I suspect his unusual actions this time were instigated by the Russians or the Persians! They want to influence our country’s elections.”
“Agreed,” the former deputy chief of staff said dryly.
The blurry figure also moved slightly, indicating its approval.
“Harris’s capabilities are limited, Major General Duke’s military status has too many restrictions, and conventional CIA resources are not efficient enough in Iligo, especially against someone like ‘Contractor’ who has extremely strong counter-surveillance capabilities,” Walter continued. “I propose that we reactivate ‘Witness’.”
This word made everyone, both in front of and behind the screen, tense up.
“The ‘Witness’ department’s ‘Scavenger’ team was the dedicated force for handling the aftermath of the ‘Sower’ program. They were most familiar with the objectives, the background, and… the necessary procedures.”
Walter explained, "They have now been nominally disbanded or moved to other cover identities, but we can urgently reorganize a small elite unit and deploy it to Iligo."
"Who's in charge? How's it coordinated?" Hillary asked, having calmed down and entered decision-making mode.
"I will be in direct command, through the most secure independent channel. Lamont will provide them with intelligence support and necessary logistical coordination on-site. They will operate independently outside the framework of the joint operations team, with a single mission: to locate and eliminate the 'podcast.' If the 'contractor' attempts to interfere or is already aware of it..."
Walter paused, his gaze turning ruthless: "Authorize them to treat them the same way if they deem it necessary."
"I second that," said the former deputy chief of staff.
"Agreed." A hoarse electronic voice came from the blurry figure.
Hillary Clinton took a deep breath: "The operation must be kept absolutely secret. We cannot leave any trace of ourselves, the White House, or the campaign. Funding, equipment, and entry routes must all go through black channels."
“Understood.” Walter nodded. “I will coordinate immediately. Deploy at least two satellites to increase the frequency of reconnaissance over northwestern Iriego, especially the Crescent oil field and surrounding areas. At the same time, activate all CIA informants in the area, both dormant and active, to search for the ‘contractor’s’ trail. The ‘Scavenger’ team will be in place within 48 hours.”
“72 hours.” Hillary held up three fingers, her eyes sharp. “I’m only giving you 72 hours. I want to hear that ‘Podcast’ is gone forever. As for that meddlesome ‘contractor’… if he’s in the way, let him disappear into the Iligo desert.”
The video conference has ended.
Hillary leaned back in her chair and rubbed her temples.
Outside the window, night was falling in Pennsylvania, while a secret hunt thousands of miles away had already begun.
About 40 kilometers southeast of the Crescent oil field in the western desert of Iligo.
Time: Nighttime, the day after Lamont discovered Song Heping's disappearance.
This is a continuous sand dune area where the sun scorches during the day and the temperature plummets at night, with howling winds.
On the leeward side of a huge sand dune, several inconspicuous patches of sand-colored camouflage netting rose slightly, almost blending into the surrounding environment.
Beneath the camouflage netting was a makeshift, concealed observation point.
Song Heping squatted in the tunnel, the night vision goggles emitting a faint green light that illuminated his angular face.
He chewed on a piece of high-energy compressed rations, but his eyes never left the faint lights of the Crescent Oilfield facilities on the distant horizon.
Scattered around him were eight fully armed soldiers.
They all came from the second mercenary battalion of the "Musician" company, and were elites personally selected and absolutely trusted by Song Heping.
The leader was called Joseph. He had a fierce face, was taciturn but decisive in his actions.
Their equipment is luxurious, reaching the level of the US military's front-line special forces, and even surpassing them in some aspects.
This was thanks to the convenience "provided" by Major General Duke.
Each person wore a modified Crye Precision desert combat suit and was equipped with a FAST helmet, which integrated a quad-eye panoramic night vision device (ENVG-B), a communication headset, and a tactical light.
Their primary weapon is the HK416 A5 rifle, equipped with a suppressor, holographic sight, infrared laser designator, and tactical flashlight.
His secondary weapon was a Glock 19 pistol.
The bulletproof vest is a JPC 2.0 with lightweight bulletproof inserts, and the carrying gear is loaded with magazines, grenades (including fragmentation and flashbang grenades), medkits, explosives, and water bags.
The communication equipment is an encrypted AN/PRC-163 multichannel radio that can link directly to a satellite.
In addition, the team also carried a small drone, a thermal imaging observation device, and breaching and blasting tools that might be needed for oilfield facilities.
"Boss, the drone's final scan confirmed that there is an unidentified heat source activity in the old storage area in the southeast corner of the C area of the oil field, which is inconsistent with the usual patrol pattern."
Joseph lowered his voice as he reported, his electronic tactical board displaying a blurry thermal image transmitted back by the drone.
"The guard force is mainly concentrated in the outer and core oil production areas, while the storage area is relatively weak, but there are several suspected hidden sentries."
Song Heping nodded, swallowed his rations, and took another sip of water from his water bag before saying, "Maisour knows that being directly exposed in open areas or blending in with the workers is not safe. Those semi-abandoned, structurally complex areas that are easy to hide in and easy to escape from are most suitable for him. After the fall of Badi Town, he will either try to contact some of his 'old friends' here for evacuation, or he will hide and wait for the storm to pass. Either way, he needs a temporary hideout."
"When do we make our move?" another mercenary asked.
"Two in the morning."
Song Heping glanced at the tactical watch on his wrist.
“That’s when people are most tired and least alert. We’ll infiltrate the sand ditch from the southeast, avoiding the main patrol routes and searchlights. Joseph, you take two men to eliminate the sentries and surveillance cameras. Be quick, and use silenced weapons.”
"clear."
"The rest of you, follow me and storm the target warehouse area. If you find Masour, take him down first, and if necessary, use non-lethal wounds. I want him alive; he has something more valuable in his head than gold."
Song Heping's voice was particularly clear and cold in the cold wind.
"If we encounter oil field guards or unidentified armed personnel, we will decide whether to engage in combat or retreat based on the level of threat. Our goal is to get our people out of here, not to fight an offensive."
The group responded in hushed tones and began a final check of the equipment to ensure that every step was flawless.
The desert night wind rustled through the camouflage netting, making a soft rustling sound that masked all other activity.
Just then, Song Heping's highly encrypted satellite phone vibrated.
It's not the one I usually use.
Song Heping frowned; very few people knew this number.
He gestured for everyone to be quiet, walked deeper into the tunnel, and pressed the answer button.
"Song, what kind of terrible trouble have you gotten into this time?"
Simon's voice came from the other end of the phone, devoid of his usual bureaucratic tone, but instead carrying a hint of exasperation and deep worry.
“I don’t understand what you mean, Director,” Song Heping said calmly.
"Stop giving me that crap!"
Simon lowered his voice, but his anger was palpable: "Just two hours ago, I received an emergency directive from the White House National Security Council, requiring me to coordinate all CIA resources in and around Iligo, including informants, electronic listening stations, and even some dormant assets I had almost forgotten about, to do everything in my power to find you! They want to know where you are, what you are doing, and who you are with!"
Song Heping's eyes sharpened.
Lamont acted swiftly, and went straight to the top.
It seems Duke was right to be afraid.
Even if he is an active-duty major general, he is as fragile as an A4 sheet of paper in front of those top politicians in the DC area.
"So, what exactly did you do, or what did you know, that made those bigwigs in the White House distract themselves from personally inquiring about the whereabouts of a frontline mercenary leader during the most heated part of the election?"
Simon questioned, "Song, I warned you, this peaceful life didn't come easily! My position as director isn't secure either; after the election, who knows who will be sitting in my office! Don't give me that kind of deadly trouble!"
"If I weren't worried that if you died, the information you have about my 'past' would be automatically exposed according to a preset program, do you think I would risk making this call to warn you?"
Simon's voice was filled with helplessness and annoyance.
"You're a ticking time bomb right now, and it seems the White House wants to dismantle you or throw you far away before you blow them up!"
Song Heping remained silent for a few seconds, listening quietly as Simon raged.
Only when he was almost there did he slowly speak: "Simon, have you heard of the 'Witness' department? And... the 'Sower' program?"
Simon's breathing visibly faltered on the other end of the phone. A long silence followed, broken only by the faint hum of the encrypted circuitry.
After a good ten seconds, Simon's voice came again, much lower and more cautious: "...Where did you hear these names from?"
“Lamont, your stationmaster Iligor, is here on a top-priority mission: hunting down a defector named Masour. This man is one of the key assets of the ‘Sower’ program, isn’t he?”
Song Heping continued, "And your esteemed Station Chief Lamont seems more inclined to silence this man forever rather than dig out Bakdadi's hiding place from him. Perhaps he doesn't even know Bakdadi's location, and your people are just using the pretext of tracking Bakdadi to silence him."
Simon fell silent again, this time for an even longer period.
Song Heping could almost picture the CIA director in his office, his expression shifting as he weighed the pros and cons.
Simon had only intended to warn him during the call, but the information he threw out instead left him terrified.
“…Song,” Simon’s voice finally broke through, carrying an unusual seriousness: “Listen to me, stop what you’re doing immediately. The ‘Sowers,’ the ‘Masour,’ are not things you should touch, nor can I touch. The waters in there are deep enough to drown everyone.”
“It’s too late, Simon.” Song Heping looked at the lights of the oil field in the distance. “I’m already in the water.”
“…They’ll send in professional ‘cleaners’.” Simon practically spat out the word. “If you insist on getting involved…be careful. And remember your promise, those documents…”
"As long as I live, they will just be data."
After finishing his sentence, Song Heping hung up the phone.
He didn't need to ask any more questions; Simon's reaction had confirmed all his guesses and foreshadowed the impending level of danger.
He hung up the call with Simon.
"The Cleaner"—the code name itself is quite interesting.
He knew all too well the nature of this type of unit.
No records are kept, no reasons are asked, all for the highest level of "clean" service.
Their arrival meant that the forces behind Lamont had torn off their last pretense and placed him and Masur on the same list that had to be eliminated.
He walked back to the middle of the squad, and Joseph and the others looked up at him.
Song Heping did not speak immediately; his mind was racing, rethinking and processing all the variables.
The initial plan was to infiltrate, take control of Masour, and then secretly evacuate.
But now, the plan must be completely overhauled.
Simon's warning was not alarmist; the "scavengers" had a clear objective.
Maisul must die, and if I were to intervene, I must also disappear.
They have virtually unlimited logistical support and intelligence priority, and may even share tracking data provided by Lamont or even higher levels in real time.
A direct confrontation is clearly not a good approach.
"The plan remains unchanged."
Song Heping quickly broke the silence.
"But the alert level is raised to the highest. We may not only have to deal with the oil field guards and Masour, but also... 'professionals' from the United States. Their orders don't include taking prisoners. So, if we encounter an unidentified, well-equipped, tactically skilled, and hostile squad, we should open fire first without warning, with the elimination of the threat as the top priority."
The mercenaries exchanged glances; Song Heping's words were very clear.
The team is now in a very dire situation.
Someone intervened, and it wasn't just anyone.
Song Heping crouched down, gesturing for his team members to gather under the camouflage net.
Then, turn on the low-light mode of the tactical flashlight and quickly sketch out a simplified map of the C area of the oil field and its surrounding terrain on the sand.
“I just received intelligence confirming two things,” he said in a low voice. “First, the American ‘scavenger’ teams have been deployed, targeting us and Maxour. Second, the information gap between them and us is narrowing, and Lamont will provide them with all the necessary support.”
His finger pointed to the area representing the old storage area.
“Our original plan was to go straight in, dig out Masour, and take him away. But now, it’s very likely that we’ll end up walking into a trap, letting the ‘scavengers’ catch us like turtles in a jar.”
His finger moved to several key passageways and high points on the periphery of the storage area.
“They will anticipate our actions. Since we are also looking for Masour, the most likely point of contact is here. They will set up a perimeter in advance, or follow closely behind us, and wait for us to find Masour, exhausted or exposed during the firefight, and then take advantage of our position to eliminate both of us.”
One of the team members whispered, "Should we abandon the operation?"
"Do not."
Song Heping sneered, "We must catch Maisu. He is our only shield and our only bargaining chip to overturn the table. Moreover, 'The Cleaners' are also looking for him. This is precisely our opportunity."
He raised his head, his gaze sweeping over each face covered in paint and shadows.
"Let's look at it from another angle. If we see ourselves as the only hunter chasing the 'rabbit' that is Mesour, then the 'scavenger' is the 'wolf' lurking in the shadows, and we are the prey. But what if we temporarily stop chasing the 'rabbit' and instead focus on the 'wolf' that will inevitably come to catch the 'rabbit' as well?"
He paused, letting the idea settle in the minds of the team members.
"The 'Scavengers' are equally eager to find and eliminate Masour. Their intelligence may be more accurate, and their actions may be faster. But they also have a weakness: their primary target is Masour, and secondarily, I, who may interfere with the mission. They will not easily expose their full firepower before confirming and engaging the main target, nor will they anticipate... that the hunter will become part of the trap."
Joseph interjected, "Does the boss mean we should change from 'actively searching' to 'lying down and observing'? Let the 'scavengers' handle this hot potato of a 'sweet potato' first?"
“That’s right.” Song Heping drew a new arrow in the sand with his finger: “We will infiltrate as planned, but we will not make direct contact with Maisul until the very last moment. We need to establish concealed observation and ambush positions around his possible hiding places. The focus is not on defending the oil field guards, but on monitoring all paths leading to that area, especially routes suitable for special forces infiltration.”
His speech quickened, and his thoughts became clear and fluent.
"The 'scavenger' team won't be large; it'll probably be a small squad. Because they're aiming for extreme stealth and efficiency, they'll definitely choose the most professional and unexpected route to infiltrate the storage area. We need to anticipate their possible entry points and set up ambushes in advance. Joseph, you take two people and be responsible for the northwest and north sides, the two most likely infiltration directions. Establish cross-observation posts, using vibration sensors and passive infrared sensors, but don't actively scan for exposed locations."
Joseph replied in a low voice, "Understood. Lock on sights, but do not fire. Wait for the signal."
“Yes.” Song Heping turned to the others: “The rest of you follow me and lie in wait on the south and east sides of the storage area. This area is close to the abandoned pipe area and the pile of rubble, which is convenient for concealment and rapid movement. Our position should be able to observe the warehouse where Maisul might be hiding, as well as the direction Joseph and you have warned us about.”
He continued to refine the tactics, taking every detail into account:
“Once Joseph’s team confirms that the ‘Scavengers’ have entered the ambush zone and are moving toward or making contact with the Masour hideout, they will be the signal. We will remain in place until the ‘Scavengers’ engage in a firefight with the Masour men, or until we are certain that they are about to carry out a clearing operation on Masour.”
He tapped the sand hard with his finger.
“That’s when we’ll strike. The ‘Scavengers’ attention will be focused on Masour, and their formation will be spread out or their flanks and rear exposed as they attack. We’ll launch a surprise attack from an unexpected direction. The firepower must be heavy and ruthless, and we must destroy their command, communications, and heavy firepower points as soon as possible. Our goal is not to repel them, but to eliminate this ‘Scavengers’ squad in the shortest possible time.”
One team member asked, "What about Masour? Stray bullets or 'Scavenger' desperate measures..."
"This is a risk, but it is also an opportunity."
Song Heping calmly analyzed, "Once the firefight begins, Maisul will either escape in the chaos or be trapped. While suppressing the 'Scavenger,' we need to quickly send out a two-person team to Maisul's location and forcibly take him away. The chaos is our best cover. With the 'Scavenger' tied up, the oil field guards will be attracted by the large-scale firefight and may become confused due to their inability to distinguish friend from foe, which creates a brief but crucial window of opportunity for us to act."
He looked around at everyone and emphasized, "Remember, the core objective of this operation has changed. The primary objective is no longer 'finding Masour,' but 'seizing Masour from the Scavenger Group and eliminating this tracking force as much as possible.'"
At the last minute, he added a final evacuation plan:
"After the mission is accomplished, regardless of whether we completely annihilate 'The Scavengers,' we must immediately withdraw along Route Z, which is the most complex and difficult-to-track desert route we have scouted beforehand. The rendezvous point remains the same, but we must be prepared to activate vehicle-mounted signal jamming devices in case of emergency and be ready to change the final rendezvous coordinates at any time. The forces behind Lamont and 'The Scavengers' will not only send this small team; we must assume that there are rapid reaction forces or aerial surveillance."
The team members silently processed this bold and high-risk plan.
It turned what was originally a relatively straightforward capture mission into a high-intensity ambush against another top-tier special forces team.
But no one objected. Song Heping's logic was clear and ruthless, carving out a seemingly viable path to counterattack from a desperate situation.
"Are you clear about your respective tasks?" Song Heping asked finally.
The response was deep and uniform: "Understood, boss."
"Check the equipment, especially the communications silence and backup channels. Five minutes to prepare," Song Heping ordered.
Asking for a monthly ticket! Asking for a monthly ticket!
(End of this chapter)