Chapter 879 - 817 Weakness

Song Heping walked up to Brody, reached out, and took the weapon from him.

"Are you Brody?"

"I... don't know you..."

"My name is Song, Song Heping."

Song Heping pointed to himself.

"Your target this time."

Brody wanted to speak, but a mouthful of blood surged up again.

Song Heping looked at him, frowned, and asked, "Do you want me to help you?"

Brody wanted to say "yes," but blood surged up uncontrollably again.

Now he was beginning to feel like he was drowning.

His internal organs ruptured, causing blood to flow everywhere like a sewage outburst.

The problem is, death is estimated to be a little while away.

Not long, but very uncomfortable.

He understood what Song Heping meant.

The person in front of him wanted to help him go with dignity.

To let him die a bit more comfortably.

On the battlefield, this is mercy.

He nodded with effort, as if pleading.

Song Heping didn't linger, drew a gun, aimed at his frontal lobe, and fired the bullet downward.

This way, the warhead could immediately destroy the brain stem, like pulling the circuit from a computer, allowing a quick shutdown.

Brody died peacefully.

This ambush was not difficult.

In fact, in the battles Song Heping had experienced, it didn't even count as low-intensity.

Brody probably died unconvinced.

But what good is that unconvinced feeling?

Go protest to God.

After doing all this, Song Heping checked the time and turned to shout to everyone, "Time is tight, twenty minutes left."

They had to be quick.

Immediately according to the plan, they had to rapidly transform into an assault team from the EO company, then proceed to meet Hakeem and the others in Northern Darfur as the "Shepherd".

Tonight, two armed organization leaders were to be met, both very urgent, leaving no room for error that might arouse the other's suspicion, and certainly couldn't let Pence in distant Chad catch a whiff and slip away.

"Weber, how's my old friend doing?"

"He's still in the presidential suite, hasn't gone out."

Weber reported Pence's movements.

"Song, you have to settle it quickly. It's estimated that at the latest, noon tomorrow, Pence will contact the 'Shepherd' to understand the situation."

"Don't worry, leave it to me."

"Klein! How's it going over there??!"

Song Heping hung up the phone and turned to the plan's key figure - Klein.

"Starting now!"

Klein splashed cold water to wake up the "Shepherd".

"Hey! Wake up!"

He reached out and slapped the face of this arms dealer and intelligence middleman hard.

The "Shepherd", who had been stunned by the explosion, finally woke up.

But he soon realized he was tied to a folding chair.

He instinctively struggled a bit, feeling a sharp pain in his left shoulder.

"Hiss—"

The "Shepherd" gasped in pain.

He glanced at his left shoulder, which had a shrapnel embedded in it, half exposed outside the muscle, soaking half a sleeve with blood.

"Who are you guys!?"

Looking around, he actually had some guesses, but couldn't help but ask the question again.

"We'll skip the boring parts."

Klein put on medical gloves, very much like a doctor preparing to operate, but then picked up the nerve conduction device next to him.

"Directly tell me the meeting code for Hakeem and Markuer."

The "Shepherd" hesitated for a moment, then stubbornly spat out a bloody phlegm and cursed: "F*** you."

Klein sighed, placing the electrodes on the "Shepherd's" temples.

This device wouldn't leave any permanent damage but could create sensations comparable to third-degree burns.

He first dialed the current to 50 milliamps, then turned on the switch.

Current instantly coursed through the "Shepherd's" body, entering from the temples, directly impacting the cerebral cortex...

"Aow—"

He immediately let out a wolf-like wail.

Song Heping frowned and said, "Can you stuff something in his mouth? He might bite through his tongue later."

"Ah..."

Klein turned off the power, casually picked up a stone, and stuffed it directly into the "Shepherd's" mouth.

"Mmm mmm mmm—"

The "Shepherd" widened his eyes, shaking his head in terror.

The experience was too uncomfortable.

Just a few seconds felt like he had endured centuries in hell.

"If you give up and are willing to explain, remember to nod."

Klein explained the details very civilly, like a teacher patiently tutoring a student.

"Tell me the code for the meeting, OK or not?"

The "Shepherd's" eyeballs were rolling, seemingly still hesitating.

Klein didn't give him the chance, starting to turn the power switch.

"Mmm—"

With a stone in his mouth this time, the sound was more muffled and strange, but Song Heping was more satisfied, nodding at the side, saying, "Good, now that's more like it."

The "Shepherd" convulsed as though every inch of muscle on his body twitched uncontrollably.

When the current reached 50 milliamps, the "Shepherd's" muscles started to spasm; at 80 milliamps, his muffled scream echoed across the wilderness; at 100 milliamps...

"Suka! What's that smell!?"

Nearby, White Bear rubbed his nose.

Song Heping glanced down, and the "Shepherd" had wet himself, urine dripping down from the chair.

"The code."

Klein turned off the device, his voice gentle as if coaxing a child.

The "Shepherd's" pupils had already dilated, but he was still struggling: "You… don't know… who you're dealing with..."

Seeing this, Song Heping squatted down, meeting the "Shepherd" eye to eye: "I know you guys are from the 'Elder Council', and I even know that Pence has been in contact with you. Furthermore—"

Song Heping took a tablet from Jiang Feng's hand and held it up in front of the "Shepherd".

"I also know you have an illegitimate daughter in Paris."

The "Shepherd's" breathing suddenly became rapid.

Song Heping opened a picture, showing a smiling little girl in front of the Eiffel Tower.

"Marion Dubois, fourth grade, Saint-Germain-en-Laye International School."

"You shameless bastard!"

The "Shepherd's" eyes bulged as if they were about to burst like two overinflated balloons.

Song Heping listened to his curses, thinking how accurate the British intelligence was.

Everyone has a weakness.

No matter how vicious this guy was, he ultimately had a weakness.

When the electrodes were applied to his temples again, the "Shepherd" broke down.

"I'll talk! I'll talk! But promise me one condition."

Song Heping didn't need him to mention the condition, already guessing what it was, and directly told him: "We Orientals have a saying, 'calamity doesn't befall the family,' of course, unless under special circumstances. As long as you speak, I have no interest in harming your daughter."

The "Shepherd" lowered his head.

Large beads of sweat rolled off his forehead.

"Among the things you took from me just now, there are two daggers engraved with Quran verses. When meeting, just showing them will make the other understand..."

Klein finished recording the last piece of information and nodded to signal to Song Heping.

"Kill me then..."

The "Shepherd" lifted his head.

Song Heping nodded: "Yes, by dying, your daughter will be safer."

Then he instructed Klein: "Clean up."

"No problem."

Klein drew his gun and rose swiftly, shooting the "Shepherd" in the head.

The bullet pierced the skull and lodged into the ground.

The "Shepherd's" head tilted to the side, and he died.