A few minutes later, Song Heping connected to the encrypted line at the Baghdad US Command Center from the command post.

"Colonel Kote,"

Song Heping's voice was deliberately infused with a mixture of "gravity," "confusion," and even a bit of "shock."

"I just received a report here that is...both shocking and perplexing. One of my patrol units ran into a group of unidentified armed personnel in that godforsaken place west of Hulmatu."

On the other end of the phone, Kote's breathing became noticeably heavy, silent for a few seconds, followed by a voice as cold as ice shards: "Song, what exactly are you trying to say?"

"Well, there was an exchange of fire."

Song Heping sighed "helplessly," "The situation was urgent, my men acted in self-defense, and had no choice but to open fire. The result...wasn't pretty; the other side suffered some casualties. Additionally...we captured a few alive."

He deliberately paused before "carefully" throwing out the news that would send Kote's blood pressure soaring:

"After our preliminary...um, 'interrogation,' the captured individuals claim they are...members of the US Delta Force and Iraq ISOF... However, I checked and found that three of them are indeed Americans, so I feel this misunderstanding has escalated, and I called to verify the truth with you as soon as possible."

He could clearly hear the sudden halt of breathing on the other end, followed by the sound of gasping like an old bellows.

Song Heping didn't give Kote time to react, immediately flinging the prepared questions, firing them like a barrage:

"Colonel! This matter is really strange! If they were ordered to execute a mission in my Hulmatu region as 'allies,' why was I not notified beforehand by anyone at all?! My command center did not receive a single word of related communication! You know, lately the group of lunatics from 1515 have been rampant, engaging in terrorist attacks everywhere, making my troops highly nervous and on high alert! Did your US Special Forces conduct any situation assessment before operating here and not feel it necessary to inform me to avoid misunderstandings?"

He became more "excited" as he spoke, even with a touch of "betrayed" resentment:

"Had I known it was allied Special Forces coming here to execute a mission, I would have supported them with whatever they needed! But now it's become like this... Colonel, tell me, whose fault is this painful 'misunderstanding'? I hope you, and the Pentagon, must give me and my men, who are troubled by 'accidentally harming allies,' a clear and understandable explanation! I just want to ask one question: Why would a top-notch US Special Operations team sneak onto my territory without notifying me, the highest commander?! What on earth are they doing here?! What is their mission objective?!"

For these last few questions, Song Heping practically shouted them out, every word like a hammer, heavily pounding on Kote's heart.

Especially "What is their mission objective?" which directly hit the critical point, a fatal blow!

How could Kote respond?

Could he really say, "Oh, they're here to locate you and call in a B-52 to blow you sky high?"

On the other end, there was a tense silence lasting more than ten seconds.

Only Kote's frighteningly heavy breathing could be heard, and Song Heping could vividly imagine Kote's face flushed like a liver and nowhere to vent his frustration.

Song Heping inwardly sneered, knowing he had this under control.

He accurately hit the two dead spots of the US Army's operation that were indefensible: the lack of notification to allies about the operation and the fundamentally shameful objectives.

Colonel Kote was now the epitome of "dumb eating bittersweet," unable to utter a word of complaint. His chest felt severely blocked, with a mischievous fire rampaging inside, yet he didn't dare make a sound.

Admit the mission?

That would mean a complete fallout.

Moreover, if this went public, the US Army would lose moral ground.

Deny?

How to explain the presence of Delta Special Forces there?

All the anger, frustration, and humiliation could only mix with blood, forcibly swallowed down.

"Did you not ascertain who they were before taking action?" Kote stiffly retorted: "Don't you have night vision equipment? Couldn't you distinguish friend from foe? Song, you did it on purpose, didn't you!"

Song Heping coldly smiled: "Colonel, in this tense situation, at this critical juncture, a Special Forces team that appeared stealthily in my core defense zone without prior notice was treated by my soldiers as infiltrating terrorists. Doesn't this logic hold?! My troops do have night vision equipment, but not everyone, and they are old and ragged, with low resolution. If...to avoid misunderstanding, perhaps you could provide support for ten thousand units of individual night vision gear?"

This statement once again made Colonel Kote speechless.

"Song..."

After a long time, Kote spoke again: "This matter...the situation...is very complicated. I...I need to report immediately to the higher-ups. Regarding...those captured personnel..."

"Don't worry, Colonel!"

Song Heping instantly switched to a "reasonable" tone, one that could be described as "sincere."

"Although this is purely an unfortunate misunderstanding, I have always upheld the highest standards of humanitarian spirit! Even more so, they are allies, right?! We will do our utmost to treat and care for the wounded. Meanwhile, we eagerly expect your esteemed side to soon provide an official statement and explanation regarding this 'allied operation without prior notification.' After all, it concerns our future... cooperation prospects, wouldn't you agree?"

He intentionally stressed the word "cooperation," full of implication.

The call ended in this extremely bizarre atmosphere.

Song Heping slowly put down the satellite phone, exhaling a long, satisfied breath, revealing the smile of a hunter who had successfully captured a formidable prey.

He knew this beautiful counterattack was flawlessly executed!

He had successfully turned the Americans' attempted backstab against him, redirecting their weapon's edge back at their own necks, and forcefully turned a crisis that could have obliterated him into a heavy chip in his hand!

"Next, let's see whether the dignitaries in suits at the Pentagon choose to disregard everything and flip the table, or are forced to hold their noses and sit down for a good talk with a 'chef' they look down upon about new prices."

Song Heping walked to the window, looking at the horizon of Hulmatu gradually illuminated by dawn's light, and murmured to himself.

The piece of evidence in his hand, hot and stained with blood and tears, was his greatest assurance at this moment.

Of course, this isn't over.

I estimate the Pentagon will want us to hand over the hostages first, then hit us hard.

Those old bastards in the Pentagon are nothing but trouble.

Looks like we need to put some "insurance" in place.

He called Jiang Feng over and instructed:

"These days are probably our most dangerous. If this isn't handled well, I estimate the Americans will target us. You need to handle the following tasks immediately—Firstly, divide the command into three: Group A with me, Group B with you, and Group C with Samir. Follow the evacuation plan, and leave the command post one by one after an hour, enter the backup nodes! Then order the electronic warfare company in the mercenary camp to create false signals to conduct electronic deception, so the Americans can't pinpoint my exact location."

Song Heping's orders were simple and clear.

The so-called backup nodes were mobile command points secretly constructed by Samir around abandoned mines and natural caves near the Northwest River District, Hulmatu, a few days ago at Song Heping's request.

These locations are not only concealed, but they also have simple yet reliable wired communication links between them, and even short tunnels were dug for emergency retreats.

At the same time, the electronic warfare team began to get busy.

They quickly set up high-power fake radio transmitters in Hulmatu Town and several surrounding preset locations to simulate the command's communication signal characteristics.

"Prepare a few 'banquets' for the Americans' satellites and drones."

Song Heping sneered, "Let them bomb and see how many expensive JDAMs they can waste."

As the command post began to physically disperse, Song Heping left the command post and arrived at the temporary command node.

This was a reinforced basement beneath a building on the outskirts, temporarily requisitioned, and even the "Liberation Forces" soldiers didn't know its purpose here.

He opened a specially modified laptop that wasn't connected to the internal command network and connected to an independent satellite link.

An encrypted communication interface popped up on the screen, and he quickly entered commands.

Soon, an independent dialogue box appeared on the interface.

"God! You're insane! You took out a Delta Force team?! The military won't let you go, better run!"

Before Song Heping could speak, the other party had already preemptively questioned.

"Run?"

Song Heping countered, "You're worried that if something happens to me, your secrets would automatically be exposed, right?"

There was silence on the other end.

Indeed.

On the other side of the network was the CIA Director, Simon.

"FUCK!"

Simon didn't seem to like this kind of questioning, but had to acknowledge it as a fact.

So he could only type a crude remark.

Song Heping continued, "The military is planning to decapitate me, yet you didn't inform me beforehand."

The meaning in these words was clear.

He was questioning Simon's "loyalty" to him.

As expected, Simon was urgent and quickly replied, "I just found out about what you did to the US Special Forces unit in Hulmatu, I swear to God, the Pentagon didn't consult me at all before planning to take action against you. Song, you must understand, our relations with the Pentagon have always been strained!"

He offered a lengthy defense for himself.

Song Heping knew this wasn't an excuse.

It's a fact.

The military heads really don't have much enthusiasm for an espionage organization like the CIA.

"Don't be nervous, my old friend."

Song Heping eased the atmosphere: "I was just joking."

Simon said nothing.

Over the network, Song Heping seemed to see him breathe a sigh of relief in front of the screen.

"I have some materials at hand that I'll now send to you. You can say it's something I intentionally disseminated on the network, intercepted by your people. I want you to use these materials at the right time to knock some sense into those old folks in the Pentagon, let them know the chips I hold. I don't like bloodshed, but if someone wants to wager his high office against me, a mere mercenary leader, then I welcome it."

"What materials?" Simon asked cautiously.

"Nothing much, just some interrogation records and a few PFD files, very interesting. You'll understand what they are once you have them."

Song Heping said, "If you want me alive, you know what to do. I'm sure I don't need to teach you, Mr. Director, how to navigate so effectively."

```

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by lotustale.com