Chapter 1933 - 1421: Baghdad's Deadly Chess Game

The tires of the bulletproof SUV rolled over Baghdad's broken asphalt, kicking up a cloud of yellow dust.

Inside the car, Song Heping leaned back in his custom high-backed seat, unconsciously tapping the armrest with his right index finger.

Outside the window, Baghdad's street scene sped backward like a damaged film reel.

"Old squad leader, do you think Walker will give in?" Jiang Feng turned his head and asked from the passenger seat.

"Actually, he has no other choice; accepting my terms is his best way out," Song Heping said. "But unfortunately, he won't be content; people like him never know when to stop."

"Next, he'll do two things." After a moment of thought, Song Heping continued, "First, he'll find a way to close the gap in this batch of goods from other places, stabilizing his Libyan buyer. Second, he'll plan revenge. Against me, or possibly against all of us."

"If that's the case, we need to prepare in advance," Jiang Feng said.

"I've already thought of how to deal with him." Song Heping took out a satellite phone from his pocket.

This phone looked no different from commercially available Thuraya satellite phones, but its internal processor and communication module had been thoroughly modified. Each call would be encrypted through server nodes in six different countries, even the most advanced NSA monitoring system would need at least forty-seven minutes to crack a single communication.

He dialed that familiar number.

The phone rang six times before being answered.

In the background came a crisp "pop" sound—

The sound of a golf club hitting a ball, followed by faint conversations and laughter.

"Song, you'd better have something important." Simon's voice came through the receiver, carrying a hint of annoyance at being disturbed.

"I have something very important." Song Heping cut straight to the point: "Major Walker smuggled nearly $6 billion worth of Javelin anti-tank missile launchers, Spring Blade 300 loitering munition, and three Stinger air defense systems into Libya, intercepted by my people. And those equipment were promised to me, clearly listed in the contract. You are the intermediary for this deal, what's your take?"

The line went silent for five seconds.

Song Heping could imagine Simon's expression at this moment.

On that usually expressionless face, the muscles would make small twitches, the only sign of his anger or shock.

"Speak in detail."

Simon's voice changed, the bureaucratic laziness disappeared, replaced by the hardness of a professional intelligence officer.

Song Heping briefly summarized the matter down to its most basic version.

"Samir's Tenth Division's third brigade patrol 'accidentally' intercepted this convoy near the Amadiye Mountain Area." Song Heping deliberately emphasized the word "accidentally": "The vehicles were carrying exactly the equipment Walker was supposed to deliver to me this Wednesday."

He paused, letting the information sink in: "Now Walker threatens to report to Washington, accusing me of robbing US Army equipment, planning a terrorist attack, and demanding the Ministry of Defense immediately terminate all cooperation with me."

Simon was silent again.

This time longer, a full twelve seconds.

"What do you want to do?"

Finally, he asked the crucial question.

"I want Walker and his protection umbrella completely out of this matter." Song Heping said bluntly: "As long as they exist, my business in Illiguo will continue to be troubled. And, Simon, think about it, if such people continue to manage the transfer of equipment to Iraq, who do you guess they will sell the weapons to next time? Do you guess they might sell directly on the black market to extremists wanting to attack on US soil?"

Each of these words pierced Simon's most sensitive nerves precisely.

But he is first a bureaucrat, and what bureaucrats fear most is not failure, but uncontrollable risks and scandals that might trigger a political earthquake.

"Do you have evidence?" Simon asked, with a trace of caution in his voice.

"There are records of satellite communications between the convoy commander and Walker two minutes before the attack, spectrum analysis and voiceprint matching have been completed. There are high-definition photos of all equipment serial numbers, completely consistent with the signed warehouse release list by Walker."

Song Heping paused to let Simon digest this information, then added: "I also have decrypted texts of all 27 encrypted communications between Walker and the Libyan intermediary over the past three months, if you need them."

"How did you get them?" Simon's voice showed genuine surprise for the first time—and a faint but perceptible vigilance.

"Mr. Director, in Illiguo there is no intelligence you can't buy." Song Heping answered without giving much away, of course, he couldn't say it was Swift and other US Army insiders who provided him the intelligence: "The point is, this evidence is enough to let Walker spend the rest of his life in Leavenworth Military Prison. But I'm not planning to do that, because it would implicate too many people, embarrass the Pentagon, and strain our cooperation."

He was offering Simon a way out, a graceful exit preserving face for both sides.

Sure enough, Simon's tone softened slightly, though only a little: "You want a clean and decisive solution."

"Yes." Song Heping set the condition: "Walker retires early due to 'health reasons', preferably with a diagnosis of post-traumatic stress disorder, so that everyone keeps face. His protection umbrella in the Pentagon needs to be removed from key positions, especially the two members of the Weapons Procurement and Transfer Committee. The transfer of equipment work should be taken over by Major Swift, he is more professional and cleaner."

He waited for Simon's response, then threw out a bargaining chip: "In return, the 'sensitive equipment' intercepted last night, I will properly deal with, ensuring it does not appear anywhere that could embarrass the United States. In fact, I have already found a suitable destination for them."