Chapter 1898 - 1407: Accepting Delta's Surrender (Part 3)

The movements are skillful and mechanical, but everyone has a tense face.

Lemont walked to a temporary detention area deep in the tunnel.

Milosh was sitting in the corner, his hands bound with plastic ties, bruises on his face, but his eyes remained sharp.

"It seems like you've run into trouble."

Milosh taunted in heavily accented Eastern European English.

Lemont squatted down and cut through the ties with a knife: "Your boss won."

Milosh moved his wrists, quickly gritting his teeth, as several of his finger joints were broken, causing intense pain with even slight movement.

"I told you, you can't beat my boss."

"Don't be too pleased with yourself," Lemont said coldly. "Your boss just got lucky. A moment later, and he would be hit by the bomb!"

"But the fact is, you lost."

Milosh stood up, towering half a head above Lemont.

He spoke a sentence that deeply affected Lemont: "And my boss will never abandon us, unlike your superiors who left you here to die! That's the difference!"

Lemont's face alternated between pale and flushed.

Milosh's words struck a nerve.

Previously, the politicians in Washington didn't care about their fate.

Compared to Song Heping's loyalty to his own subordinates.

There was indeed a significant difference.

Suddenly, a call came from the other side of the tunnel: "SIR! The Tenth Division has responded, they are accepting the transfer process, requesting us to gather at the main exit."

The sudden report ironically provided Lemont with a chance to escape the awkward situation.

Lemont gave Milosh one last look, saying hatefully: "Go back and tell your boss, this time he won, but anyone who opposes the United States of America will not end well."

"I will pass it on." Milosh said expressionlessly: "Now, where are my subordinates?"

"In other areas. You will be transferred together."

Milosh nodded, following Lemont towards the tunnel exit.

Along the way, they passed other detention areas where over two hundred mercenaries were released in succession.

Most remained silent, a few whispered curses, but all lined up in single file under the watchful eyes of the Delta Force soldiers.

At the main exit, when Lemont pushed open the heavy iron door, morning dawn light already tinged the horizon outside.

Outside, soldiers of the Tenth Division had already established a defensive line.

Armored vehicles blocked the base exit, snipers occupied their positions, hundreds of soldiers deployed in tactical formations, weapons aimed at the exit.

Samir stood by an armored vehicle, Song Heping stood at the front, having waited there for a while.

"Lemont," Samir shouted through a megaphone, "please order your men to exit one by one with visible hands and disarm themselves. I wouldn't want any unpleasant incidents after the ceasefire. As long as you cooperate, we will ensure your safe departure."

Lemont took a deep breath, first to step out of the tunnel.

The vehicle lights were dazzling, causing him to squint and raise his hands.

"All personnel, execute the standard transfer procedures."

Delta Force soldiers and agents streamed out, each going to a designated area to place rifles, pistols, and explosives on anti-explosive blankets one by one.

The movements were standardized, faces expressionless, but each person stood tall.

Milosh and his mercenaries were the last to exit.

Compared to the disciplined Delta Force, these mercenaries seemed much more disorganized, with some rubbing wrists, others whispering, and many gesturing when they saw Song Heping.

Song Heping nodded in response, his gaze fixed on Lemont throughout.

The disarming process lasted twenty minutes.

When the last rifle was placed on the anti-explosive blankets, Samir signaled soldiers to move forward and inspect.

"Mr. Lemont, I need your personnel to remove all protective gear." Samir said approaching.

Lemont stared at him for a few seconds, starting to unfasten his bulletproof vest.

Other team members followed suit, soon forming small piles of bulletproof panels, tactical vests, and helmets on the ground.

"Now, please cooperate with identity verification."

An officer from the Tenth Division approached with a list.

Just as the verification was halfway through, engine roars suddenly came from afar.

Everyone instinctively looked up, seeing two Black Hawk Helicopters pass at low altitude without approaching, only circling in the distance.

"Our evacuation team," Lemont explained, "ensuring the transfer is completed."

Samir looked at Song Heping, who nodded slightly, indicating no problem.

Identity verification ended.

All two hundred plus detained mercenaries were accounted for.

Delta Force soldiers and CIA agents were told to bring their comrades' bodies, boarding trucks provided by the Tenth Division, to be taken to a temporary shelter point, awaiting pickup by US personnel, before leaving by helicopter.

Before Lemont was the last to board, he paused and turned to Song Heping.

"I know what you're thinking," Lemont said. "You believe this is Washington's weakness."

Song Heping stepped forward a few more steps, reducing their distance to just a meter: "I believe this is Washington's rationality. You lost a battle, but avoided losing more."

"We will meet again, Song."

"Maybe," Song Heping responded very calmly, "But next time, you should first figure out who you're fighting for, and why you're fighting."

Lemont's expression stiffened for a moment, then turned and boarded the truck.

The truck's engine started, raising dust as it slowly left the scene.

Milosh walked to Song Heping's side: "He hates you."

"He hates defeat," Song Heping watched the departing truck, "The difference is, some learn from defeat, and some only accumulate hatred."

"What now?" Milosh asked.

"Now..." Song Heping turned to his subordinates, his gaze falling on his hand.

"You should see a doctor and take a good rest for a while. Tell the brothers detained this time that each will receive an extra $30,000 special allowance this month. As for you, I have other arrangements."