"Boss, dinner is ready."

A subordinate walked into the tent to report.

Song Heping glanced at him, asking, "Are you new? I remember your name is Becker, you served in the South African Special Forces before, right?"

"That's right, Boss." Becker was somewhat flattered.

He had only been with the "Musician" defense for less than a week, yet the Boss remembered his name and even knew where he had served before.

Being remembered, especially by one's superior, is a recognition of one's value.

"Sit."

Song Heping pointed to the small stool in front of him.

"Eat together."

Becker was a bit at a loss.

Holding Song Heping's dinner, he didn't know whether to put it down or not.

"Where's your dinner?"

"Outside."

Song Heping glanced outside the tent, then got up, took the dinner from Becker's hand, and walked out.

The twenty people following him into the Darfur Region this time were all newly recruited mercenary members, most of them had experience serving in special forces, with good combat ability.

Jiang Feng and those core members had more important tasks, so they had gone elsewhere and did not enter Northern Darfur.

Song Heping's appearance caused a stir.

All the mercenaries stood up and greeted Song Heping.

"Sit down."

Song Heping found a spot among them and sat down, then held his dinner, took a few bites, and looked around.

Everyone was standing, no one dared to sit.

"Sit down, didn't you hear?"

Upon hearing, everyone immediately sat down.

Song Heping glanced at everyone present, thinking these guys were quite afraid of him, after all, he could be considered a legendary figure now, and many people joined the company because of his reputation.

A man who can directly confront the CIA, Mossad, and MI6, you can't find many like him on Blue Star.

Most sitting around Song Heping were former retired soldiers or officers from various African Special Forces.

Many African special forces are not well-known, but the South African ones are quite decent, and most people here come from the "Water Buffalo Camp" of South African Special Forces.

The military hierarchy here is quite strict, influenced by British and French colonialism, officers are officers, soldiers are soldiers, and bathrooms and dining rooms are separate for everyday use, unlike now where Song Heping would sit and dine with his mercenary subordinates.

So they seemed a bit uncomfortable.

"Don't be awkward because I'm the boss, eating and chatting together is no big deal. When executing tasks, I require your absolute obedience; at that time, we have a superior-subordinate relationship. Normally, you can relax a bit, we can be brothers. As for your pay and benefits, leave that to me. If you miss a bit, you can shoot me in the back, but if anyone is afraid to die when I'm giving orders on the battlefield, I'm sorry, I'll shoot you."

While eating, Song Heping said these words slowly but firmly.

The surrounding mercenaries had never seen such a superior before and didn't know how to respond, only nodding and burying their heads to eat.

Finally, someone couldn't help but ask, "Boss, I heard you took out several units of American Special Forces, is that true?"

"Yes, it's true." Song Heping answered calmly.

He didn't think much of it, but the mercenaries' eyes lit up.

"Were those really American Special Soldiers?"

Someone expressed doubt.

"Yes." Song Heping continued eating, answering, "This time, it's estimated there are American Special Soldiers coming to kill me too."

Everyone fell silent again.

Song Heping lifted his head to survey them: "Are you scared?"

The group looked at each other.

Song Heping saw hesitation in their eyes.

The American Special Forces have always enjoyed high prestige globally.

After all, in many countries' soldiers' eyes, American Special Forces are top-notch, just like the United States' national power.

It's impossible not to be scared.

"Before you joined our company, you should've known that sooner or later, you'd encounter and fight against American Special Forces, right?"

The group collectively nodded again.

Clearly, everyone knew.

"Then why did you dare to join?"

Song Heping asked.

No one answered.

Song Heping pointed at Becker: "Becker, you tell us."

Becker, seeing Song Heping naming him, hesitated for a moment, then blurted out: "I just want to see if I can kill some American Special Soldiers."

Everyone was stunned.

"Hahahaha!"

Suddenly, someone laughed.

Then everyone laughed.

Finally, someone said: "Actually, my thoughts are the same. Americans have executed many missions in Africa these years, we've heard about them, boasting fantastically. So I want to try too, didn't have the opportunity or courage before, seeing you Boss have killed so many American Special Forces teams and Mossad squads, I want to experience that feeling."

"Yes, yes, that's what I thought too."

"I think the feeling of taking them out must be great."

Once the conversation started, the atmosphere quickly became lively.

Everyone began expressing their desire to take on the Americans.

Song Heping chuckled inwardly; it seems there are quite a few dissatisfied with the Americans in Africa.

These newly recruited mercenaries are quite interesting.

Being a mercenary, you need that kind of courage to try anything.

Looks like they weren't wrong to recruit this batch, Ferrari did a good job of screening.

After dinner, Song Heping walked alone up a small mound, gazing into the distance.

The surroundings were silent.

Under the night sky, Darfur was a strangely quiet place, occasionally hearing unknown animal calls.

Actually, if on the march, they could reach the destination tonight.

But Song Heping was deliberately stalling now.

He knew the Americans needed time to deploy their Special Forces.

He had to give them a chance.

Otherwise, this grand drama would not unfold.

Group A and B, one responsible for cross-border attacks on the opponent's command headquarters, the other for encircling and attacking aid.

Group C responsible for "false flag operations," releasing fake information to confuse the CIA, Mossad, and MI6, while also serving as reconnaissance and alert for their own group.

The fish took the bait.

Just waiting for the right moment to start the play and put on a good show.

"Boss, don't you think it's too quiet?"

Henry appeared at his side, looking in the direction of Song Heping's gaze.

Song Heping nodded, still focusing on the western horizon.

That's Chad.

After crossing the border, less than sixty kilometers in the depth lay the coordinates provided by Simon, which was the joint front command of CIA, Mossad, MI5 disguised as a natural science team.

"Henry, notify all groups, raise the alert level tonight. Especially your Group C, expand the inorganic reconnaissance range to twenty kilometers."

"Is there a situation?" Henry asked alertly.

"Just a hunch," Song Heping said softly, "This desert is too quiet, disturbingly quiet. The Americans' main assault force won't arrive so quickly, but surely they've already placed observation teams around us. Check it out later and you'll know. If no one is detected, it means they haven't deployed yet. If they're observed, it means they've already started."

"No problem," Henry said confidently, "Leave it to me."

Night completely descended, and the camp lit a few weak red lights.

Song Heping sat at a makeshift table, with a map of the Darfur Region spread in front of him. He drew a few circles with a red pen, then connected lines, forming a loose triangle.

"Here, here, and here."

He assigned tasks to two mercenary squad leaders sitting around.

"Depart after midnight, continue to the destination. We'll pass these three points, the convoy divided into two, one at the front and one at the back, separated by one kilometer. If ambushed, don't panic. Engage immediately according to the established tactical plan."

The two squad leaders nodded repeatedly.

Their palms were sweaty.

According to Song Heping's tactical plan, it meant bait group building defenses on the spot, backup group encircling.

"Boss, why don't we take more people?" one of the leaders couldn't help asking, "We have over two hundred people, where have they gone now?"

Song Heping raised his hand to interrupt him: "Some questions shouldn't be asked. Just follow orders."

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by lotustale.com